poetry – Isidora Works

Mar 22, 2019Mar 22, 2019 M English, My Pen, Verse

flowers growing in unusual places

It started with a grain first fed then contained Fear kept it lovingly in its domain I was always brave when the time came. Breathe in rip it out like a band aid Now I harbour winds that rage like hurricanes but hardly whisper outside the brain I used to be brave when the time … Continue reading flowers growing in unusual places

Jul 13, 2018Mar 22, 2019 M English, My Pen, Verse

I blame Tom

I blame Tom for fingers that want to dance along the skin for the fire emerging from sailing within.

Jul 29, 2017Mar 22, 2019 M English, My Pen, Verse

Seeds

The eyes In my mind See all the skies I've crossed Since they were left behind Can you see All the seeds you left Inside me How they grow Do you know It is all you I am turning into.

Jul 13, 2017Oct 29, 2018 M English, Pen, Português

Translations

O meu amigo Ricardo escreve umas coisas - bastantes e boas. Há poucos dias publicou, no seu cantinho virtual, um poema em que pede para não ser traduzido. O que me pareceu a oportunidade perfeita para exercitar os músculos de tradutora e pseudo-poeta. Sem mais demoras, aqui vai: My friend Rick (see what I did there?) … Continue reading Translations

May 22, 2017Mar 22, 2019 M English, My Pen, Verse

primordial

It breathes ancient, this thing. It stirs and it rings and pours out of my skin. There's a tempest within. I should hold down the lid but can't sail this ship while lost drunk on longing. The sails rip at the seams. My lips holding the seeds I can't sow - for now. Can the … Continue reading primordial

May 22, 2017Mar 22, 2019 M English, My Pen, Verse

Bag Lady

Too many bags with too much baggage back from when your heart was savage and oblivious. A bag of lights A bag of doubts An empty bag on where to shout. The bag of tricks you've since collected - their smoke and mirrors have now deflected. So pile it up and build a pyre Make … Continue reading Bag Lady

Jun 13, 2015Sep 12, 2018 M Digital, My Eye

Weekly Photo Challenge: Poetry

Crossing the Bar, Alfred Lord Tennyson

Jan 19, 2015Mar 1, 2018 M English, My Pen, Pen

Us & Them

It is always Us vs. Them. The Others are different so They must be feared. What was that? You don't fear Them? We'll take care of that for you. Repeat after us: Threat. Violence. Terror. Evil. Infidels. Degenerates. One more time. Repeat this everyday - it's for your own safety. And don't worry: we'll remind you. … Continue reading Us & Them

Jan 6, 2015Mar 22, 2019 M English, My Pen, Pen, Verse

Down the spiral ladder

Down the spiral ladder Your pet demons’ visiting hour. (Can you truly hate them when you’re their mother?) Can’t you tame them When light shouts louder? You know better. Being born from the water and all The mysteries you claim to know. Just go under.

Nov 29, 2014Mar 22, 2019 M English, My Pen, Pen, Verse

heartburn

I used to feed on the unseen - such a tempting, delusive thing - starving leaving my brain to digest not even mist but air I would just leave it there chewing chewing teeth gritting images brewing (they were everywhere) and I carried them faith full the invisible stories too heavy to bare when I … Continue reading heartburn

Oct 28, 2014Mar 22, 2019 M English, My Pen, Pen, Verse

intermittent

Simmer down the intermittent pen the intermittent everything this lack of discipline is too exhausting. You're such a star such a pretty light. Always on always off. Pulsing as if you one day just might expand into soaring flight. But no - not quite. Like a wave a daughter of the restless waters shallow - … Continue reading intermittent

Oct 10, 2014Mar 22, 2019 M English, My Pen, Pen, Verse

Sylvia’s tree

Only the branches seem to grow and multiply - like Sylvia's tree. I should not depend on the wind as guide - it changes all the time. But the speed with which I need to grow (do I?) may well be the death of me. Shallow roots grow faster but never hold.

Jun 4, 2014Jul 17, 2018 M Blurb, Pen

04-06-89

I am merely a discarded wooden plank powerless to resist the crushing of steel still, I want to save you no matter if you’re dead or still barely breathing, breathing Liu Xiaobo, June Fourth Elegies Translated from the Chinese by Jeffrey Yang Graywolf Press, 2012

Oct 3, 2013Mar 1, 2018 M English, My Pen, Pen, Verse

11.

Autumn's mist and Sarah's Sea I'm back to the months when I longed to see what I've since met but have not seen yet.

Jun 28, 2012Sep 13, 2016 M Pen

LXIX

ONE need not be a chamber to be haunted, One need not be a house; The brain has corridors surpassing Material place. Emily Dickinson - LXIX -

Oct 31, 2011Feb 12, 2019 M English, My Pen, Pen, Verse, [2010 - 2011] Isidora Masson

Stygian

You have been carried for years on someone else's lips (you sound good on paper) with your island descent and abyss ascent and all the spectres forever loyal. I have not met you but know your women and tangled tales (I know far too many details) of you the shy ghost who never shows. We … Continue reading Stygian

Sep 6, 2011Feb 12, 2019 M Blurb, [2010 - 2011] Isidora Masson

185

"Faith" is a fine invention When Gentlemen can see— But Microscopes are prudent In an Emergency. - Emily Dickinson -

Mar 4, 2011Jul 17, 2018 M English, My Pen, Pen, Verse, [2010 - 2011] Isidora Masson

Hg

Me, the ever restless twins Fast as wings in Hermes’ heels You, Apollo’s racing car Know what is a cinnabar. From chemistry to alchemy Astrology, astronomy An orbit of the highest Eccentricity Coulomb interaction Semi-neurotic reaction To bad grammar and bad spelling That we both find so repelling. You know the capital of Nepal … Continue reading Hg

Feb 18, 2011Mar 1, 2018 M English, My Pen, Pen, Verse, [2010 - 2011] Isidora Masson

old tales

Little Princess Little Princess, I declare There's nothing finer than your hair Its perfect waves and perfect length And how it seems to give you strength Little Princess, how you stare!, Into mine eyes I cannot bare As if once lost and by me found Your tiny feet swept off the ground Little Princess, do … Continue reading old tales

Oct 27, 2010Feb 27, 2018 M My Pen, Pen, Verse, [2010 - 2011] Isidora Masson

Cosmology (pt. 1)

I. Light light said the Word was there not Spirit before Matter came, though they say the clay was molded first? Light life blew the Breath that condensed to make flesh from the breast of the Earth now the Mother of all birth. II. There is always a serpent hissing up your spine all the … Continue reading Cosmology (pt. 1)

Oct 11, 2010Feb 27, 2018 M My Pen, Pen, Verse

it aches my love

it aches my love it aches your silence pressing against my chest my flesh ripping open wounds tiny and big closing and healed it burns my love it burns flames and heat scrapping the surface of some inner organ the hidden place where pain is felt and I try my love to keep my love … Continue reading it aches my love

Oct 11, 2010Feb 12, 2019 M English, My Pen, Pen, [2010 - 2011] Isidora Masson

Isidora & Prose

I am a painfully s l o w writer of prose and soaringwriterofverse. To my mind prose is convention & norm, poetry free form. In a poem, you can cut sentences in half wherever you wish and pile them up together in whatever shape you want You could never have that with prose.

Sep 13, 2010Mar 23, 2018 M Best Of, My Pen, Pen, Verse, [2010 - 2011] Isidora Masson

Isidora comes of age

Black sunflowers are but red. I am not darkness a Lilith moon calling out beasts and demons to roam the woods and minds of dreamers who step down the steps to the cave where they store what they hide. I am a different cave: where every creature goes to digest what it feels that harbors … Continue reading Isidora comes of age

Aug 30, 2010Feb 12, 2019 M English, My Pen, Pen, Verse, [2010 - 2011] Isidora Masson

Isidora’s Birth

Black phoenix born anew (hatches, hatches) orphan bird tries a flap and then two.

Apr 12, 2009Jul 17, 2018 M English, My Pen, Verse, [2008 - 2010] Night Bugs

it is quiet

it is quiet my love I do not float away at your sight at your words at your matter of gray it is rooted my love like the ancient cool stream your reflection so close to the one I have seen and they're crappy, my love these words and the rhymes as it's born in … Continue reading it is quiet