Tagged poetry

Winterclung

There’s an orange glow From that moment I held your secrets closeAnd now it’s skipping on the edges the of the waterCatching on the little waves and highlighting the shifting moods The grey of the winter evening is filling with charcoal and will grow blackBut for now the rain is breaking the surface of the lakeIt’s…

Slowingly

  Time races by Like a child Run amok   Splashing at puddles Wishing for luck   I anticipate Cells slowing As they will   Urgency and dread builds Then dissipates   I search for breath and breadth To fill me   With presence and peace   Not so pressingly Now   As I am…

Simon Alexander

How did I watch Her soft hands pull his stiff body closeto dress his purple skin Still cold from the hospital fridge  How did I watch Her face split with horrorwhen she realized his armswould not bend Not even For his mother    SARAH currently lives and works in Edmonds, Washington. She would describe herself as painfully shy by nature…

.This is my blood too.

After I broke the vaseAnd the candle in it too My sister said,“This isn’t like you.”   But isn’t it?Isn’t this me too?This unpleasant sideThat grabs for any object it can throw.   Isn’t this me too?Furious.Shattering my lungsWith high-pitched screams And shallow hums.   Isn’t this me too?The broken glass on the carpet that…

Now for the LoVeWork

Remember what it was like before you became  Roommates with responsibilities Brother and sister  Bickering under your breath   We can hear you We can see you We hurt for you  And we always LoVe You   I think if you touch one another In more ways than one Physically, emotionally and spiritually (LoVe is…

Hands

It was not old, as trees count years, when it succumbed to disease or gravity or storm. I found it lying on the beach at the base of a cliff, its naked frame silver and black. Worn root stumps reached from the butt, fingers scoured away by surf and time. I spied a stone grasped…

Communion of Saints

Spoken word/ music track from the Poor Clare album: Like the Tide. Listen below.  . I want to know the god my own unbelieving self can believe in. The one who sides with justice, because there is no other side to take. Who doesn’t fit in holy books, because she is bigger than the bigots reciting…

Migratory birds

Cape Porpoise, Maine, 2007. The first snow has come. But why, I wonder, do they always speak of snow as blanketing, as if comforting, warm? Underneath its smooth spread surface I can only imagine a seering cold. On Saturday the ducks hunted for their lunch in icy shallows, pecking algae through a film of ice, advancing spectre.…

Keeping Time

WOE TO THE waiting The riskers for taking For thinking too seriously I’ve mustered and busted And cornered and clustered And wrestled with moments like these The stuff of life begs and it pleads for attention The thief steals creativity That cruel spy is timing To ruin and live by I’ve rushed and I’ve hustled…