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
I blame Tom
I blame Tom for fingers that want to dance along the skin for the fire emerging from sailing within.
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.
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
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
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
Weekly Photo Challenge: Poetry
Crossing the Bar, Alfred Lord Tennyson
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
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.
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
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
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.
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
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.
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 -
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
185
"Faith" is a fine invention When Gentlemen can see— But Microscopes are prudent In an Emergency. - Emily Dickinson -
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
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
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)
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
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.
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
Isidora’s Birth
Black phoenix born anew (hatches, hatches) orphan bird tries a flap and then two.
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