Category: Uncategorized
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roadtrip
that word. rattles its own corner of personal history with a particular kind of longing. not for time or place but for renditions of self, roads not taken. and so, its top note is familiar, but i can’t place it; is it middle school? high school? or i suppose it may be tucked down there among the blurred haze of tender shards…
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a mother’s love
it doesn’t have to make you hard it can make you soft, it can soften you still just as different water runs the same rock over & again and over & again you are proof, existential pudding that our existence can exist without the love, without the esteem of our mothers it’s unnatural sure and not without…
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signs of life (con’t.)
4.23 today cherry blossoms tickle my eyes my nose my throat too achoo! 4.24 today the river runs teaching me i’m interested in what’s already here and how it changes 4.25 today a raven sits high & brave in an empty tree 4.26 today my children just ten & four- are kind& self-possessed and…
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4.17
today blue jays squawk and fly as one then land in separate trees like you like me about this poem more from my ‘signs of life’ series ..hoping to continue through the month of april xo
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hawkeyes v. gamecocks
i know what you’re thinking: another poem about birds. but can you imagine it? a rooster (trained to fight) and a hawkeye (whom i’ve only just discovered isn’t even a real bird to begin with) playing basketball? i have no choice but to believe it was a privileged white man who came…
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signs of life
4.1 today a fool’s sky cotton candy clouds green thorns cluster high a branch of hands reach reach reaching 4.2 today bone white springs where a face use to be “remains” they call them dying proof 4.3 today wild carrot seeds scatter & stick their tiny dry pods…
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vulnerability
a collapsable bridge in Baltimore onedrive.live.com (my new Microsoft word processor) the trepidation in my kid’s eyes when they are making sure they haven’t lost me writing a letter of support for someone i love “can i beep your nose?” walking (anywhere) close to dark the call you have to get out of…
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something else entirely
when the moon is dark my imagination is illuminated like light returning like its never left my desk becomes a fortress laid with an escapade of scraped paper, pencils, blue light glasses, and notebooks, sure but also, flat stack rocks piled four high for balance (of all things) too …
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sticks & stones
it wasn’t long after he left my body started making stones(‘uric acid deposits’ they called them)what sticks is he wasn’t there(in my memories of that time)in the emergency room visits(there were three)or the frequent rides over the new london bridge(to dr. gupta’s office)i never saw him reach for the milk beside the shameful brown canisters(over…
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portals ::
he cannot bear itthe thought of himself young & curious, unfinishedrefuses even to look at what he dare create before he understood what he understands so effortlessly now –and so this under ripe version of this beautiful man & his brilliant mind sits buried and stillworth less somehow to him now. our differing opinions surprise…
santos scribes 