Week 4 – 31 days of poetry

Day #24

Written July 13, 2017.

Palm Springs

Smooth ascent
Bubbled and bobbling
Cotton candy
Now this is a pool toy.

We packed our bodies to ship them to the swelter
Laid skin bare cool and calculated
To warm, broil and bake.

Night falls
Finally

Shall we return again? Palm Springs.

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Day #25

By “Guest” Holly Arrowsmith – a singer/songwriter from New Zealand.

Mouth of the Morning

There’s not such a huge difference between music and poetry, is there? I first saw Holly play in 2016, in a backyard concert at the home of a friend. I’m obsessed with her lyrics.

Enjoy!

From the mouth of the morning out poured the dawn
Waking the valley with her silent song
Like my mother she kissed me with the softest of light
Broke the skyline inked with the darkness of night
She spilled into every space every fold
To tell of a mercy that’s new with each morning
And it flows alike for the rich and the poor
Yes it flows for the slave and the free
Why I’ve collected all of my sorrow
Why I have stored it, I do not know
Maybe in shame of its revelation
Maybe in fear of letting it go
From the mouth of the morning out poured the dawn
Waking the valley with her silent song
To tell of a mercy that’s new with each morning
And at an uncertain moment day came
And dawn was gone

Day #26

Written in my bed, last night (August 26th, 2019)

Swimming, now

In April, I began to swim in the ocean
rushing waters with my body
to escape, to breathe – and not breathe
wheeling my arms in the cold, salty mess
is not easy
and frankly, the grey darkness beneath promising God-knows-what scares the shit out of me
(not literally)

But, one time I was out there
gasping
when a nobbly head surfaced
next to me, a turtle finning its way around
I’m out here!

We looked at each other – I swear
framed only by blue,
and knew joy

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Day #27

Written in my bed, last night (August 26, 2017)

ex nihilo

On Sunday, my pastor said
ex nihilo – and it was all I heard
ex nihilo – something out of nothing
as in, God
made the universe out of emptiness, black & purple – or rather, clear

He spoke
something into
nothingness, despair, the long wait,
confusion, boredom, deep sighs,
fears, wants, regrets, the long red light

something

His hand brought a bloom
Fingers, a smile
Mouth, a wish fulfilled

I imagine a sudden splotch of rainbow on an otherwise colorless frame

a possibility.

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Day #28

Written by “guest” Amanda Ziegler about ME! Amanda wrote this poem after we visited Ireland together on a magical trip in June 2017.

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Go to full post here.

 

Day #29

“Guest,” the late, great Mary Oliver. 

August 

Warning: This poem is not super uplifting. But it is real and poignant. It captures the quiet observations of a neighbor (Mary) watching a family dealing with tragedy.

Read August, by Mary Oliver.

 

Day #30

Written August 17th, 2019.

Adversity

Adversity lifts you higher
said some poet
a few centuries ago
But adversity feels like crap
especially when it rises
from your own dear self
patience-less & graceless

adversity finds itself hooked
into your skin at stop lights
and mid-conversation–mind adrift
until your tongue moves
fingers gripped
muscles taut
synapses snapping & neurons whirring

pushing through what felt thickly concrete
has become the only option
you are a sledge hammer–now

So, this is adversity?

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Day #31

Written sometime in the fall of 2018.

2018

“new beginnings” sounded lovely
rolling through her mouth soft, nudging and budding with promises
a bulb peeking through chocolate soil, tenderly opening itself to light
baby toes squirming for the first time in cool air
cheeks blooming with a smile

But new beginnings hurt like hell, unfurling stiff, tight roots with a sharp scream
new beginnings crackled heat, pain, a fat bubble bursting on charcoal pan
unwinding a bandage to the cold, salty stinging air, bloody wound a mess
breaking her from the inside, heaving and expanding – to free her

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