Swarm

Anxious thoughts like scurrying ants swarm over me,carry away scraps and crumbs of rational thought.

Thousands of insect feet keep time to the fluttering beat of my over-emotional heart.

Sugar-water tears stream down my cheeks, a map of trails for this demon ant army.

They march in formation over my face, into my eyes, my nose, my mouth, feasting on the tracks of my pain.

I cannot sleep, for the thundering battles they make in my head.

advice from e.e. cummings

climbing

*on a day when i face my climb alone,
a beloved poem by e.e cummings
can say everything i need to hear.
this is my response:

advice from e.e. cummings

run to the woods
for the sun is warm
he said, “trees are their roots
and wind is wind’

so, when you feel alone
climbing your mountain
you can “trust your heart
if the seas catch fire”

you’re surrounded by strength
you are loved by many,
so “live by love
though the stars walk backward”

the words of a fool
will lose their power in truth
while you ‘dance your death
away at this wedding’

———-

AUDIO FILE:

Haggard (a decima espinela poem)

blackraven

My body bates at all that moves
as though I might bind to a peace
I’m sore and tired. I need release.
I hope with sleep my mood improves.
For now this ache all sense removes.
My thoughts seem just a pantomime.
I cannot force these words to rhyme.
The ink won’t flow or find the page;
My words lie trapped, in iron cage.
I feel my wing-beats out of time.
—–
POETIC FORM:
Decima Espinela — 10 line poem, 8 syllables per line, abbaaccddc rhyme pattern.

 

 

Just a Taste — After Halsey, Castle (a golden shovel poem)

werewolf2

 

I wonder if you understand it now 
the way you draw pain from my 
body like blood from a jugular. My neck 
–both pale and trembling– is 
yours to take, always open 
to your appetite, and the wide 
hungry hollow in you, begging 
to be filled. I will surrender, ache for 
any chance to feed your need.
wild and hungry wolf, you are the fist 
that holds me close, wraps itself around 
me and draws pain like blood, just to taste it.
———-
POETIC FORM:
golden shovel – Take a line (or lines) from a poem you like. Use each word as an end word in your poem. Keep the end words in order. Credit the original poet, ie. “-after (poet)”.
—–
POEM A DAY NOVEMBER 2015 – PROMPT:
For today’s prompt, write a “let the moment begin” poem.
—–
AUDIO FILE:

Leftover Thoughts on Being Lost – After Kasey Chambers, Lost and Found (a golden shovel poem)

compass

 

No, I don’t want to talk about it yet.
don’t know which of these words I could 
say to make sense — some thoughts can give 
a girl such nightmares, and scatter away 
all the good from the coffee and sun of this 
morning. I do know this — my sensitive heart 
is shifting, in these hours of weariness. I’ll leave 
it to itself – to refold the map and choose the path it 
wants to take. My feet will find their way. So, in 
case you’re thinking you should worry — the 
truth is, there’s no reason. I know I’m not lost 
for long. I’ll find my compass in this confusion, and 
let it point me north — keep going until I’m found.
———-

POETIC FORM:

golden shovel – Take a line (or lines) from a poem you like. Use each word as an end word in your poem. Keep the end words in order. Credit the original poet, ie. “-after (poet)”.

—–
POEM A DAY NOVEMBER 2015 – PROMPT:
For today’s prompt, write a leftovers poem.
—–
AUDIO FILE:

Wildfire — After Christina Perri, Human (a golden shovel poem)

wildfire

The fire is in the chasing, and I’m 
burning to break free. There’s only
one remedy for being this human.
 
The road less traveled is calling and 
the sun is fading, curling at the corners.
long to run through the trees, to bleed 
the sorrow from my bones, to gasp when 
my lungs can’t swallow enough sunlight.
want to run until I find your feet, and fall 
like the last leaf, let the wind carry me down —
 
The fire is in the chasing, and I’m
burning to break free. There’s only 
one remedy for being this human.
 
 
———-

POETIC FORM:

golden shovel – Take a line (or lines) from a poem you like. Use each word as an end word in your poem. Keep the end words in order. Credit the original poet, ie. “-after (poet)”.

 

—–

POEM A DAY NOVEMBER 2015 – PROMPT:

For today’s prompt, write an echo poem.
—–
AUDIO FILE:

Vulnerable Human

 

But I’m only human
And I bleed when I fall down
I’m only human
And I crash and I break down
Your words in my head, knives in my heart
You build me up and then I fall apart
‘Cause I’m only human

 

-Christina Perri, Human

robot

I define vulnerability as uncertainty, risk and emotional exposure. To be human is to be in vulnerability.

 

You can’t get to courage without walking through vulnerability.

 

Vulnerability is the glue that holds relationships together. It’s the magic sauce.

 

-Brené Brown, PHD, LMSW

 

I am deeply, madly in love with a strong, smart, generous and breathtaking woman. Her wife is a courageous, giving, welcoming, fun and beautiful soul. She is my dear friend. Like many in my circle of polyamorous life partners, and dearly loved metamours, the three of us are learning every day to communicate well, to make room, to celebrate each other and to pour out generous amounts of trust and love as we enjoy the ecstasy and wonder that is this web of support, value and gratitude we are building for ourselves and each other. In the four months since we began, things have been absolutely, incredibly amazing.

We all work really hard to make space for each other, to flex and bend, to support and share, and to communicate, to talk honestly, to trust. We do a damn fine job, I don’t mind saying. We push ourselves, look for opportunities to grow. We are courageous and vulnerable. We’re purposeful about being good at this life, because we love each other, we honor each other, and we want to do right by those who we are so lucky to love.

I love those connections where I can let down my guard, silence my inner-critic, and be genuine. I’m welcomed with open arms. I don’t have to know all of the answers; I can struggle and laugh at myself, and know that my partners and metamours will meet me with love, and celebrate me in all my messy, morning breath, grouchy, Tuesday morning glory! I am deeply moved and fed by the willingness of lovers and their partners to be real with me, to let down their guard, put on their pajamas (or be naked), laugh about their mistakes and share their fears. It’s the very soul of this life I’m living, and I am so grateful to be met with such beauty, courage and strength.

Still, some days, the hurt comes. And that sucks.

Some days, no matter how good our intentions, no matter how carefully we choose to live, no matter how real and honest and open-hearted we are… we fail. We find ourselves in the middle of a tangled and hurtful miscommunication.  We misunderstand, we stumble, we inadvertently bruise someone else’s heart. I inadvertently bruise someone else’s heart. I did it this week, and that sucks.

No, I wasn’t alone, there were things I could have done and things others could have done to prevent the painful situation that arose — if we’d only seen it coming — but that’s not the point. The point is, I am human, and my partners and metamours are human. No matter how well we do this polyamorous life — no matter how carefully we choose our actions, our reactions, we will spill our messy, difficult-to-swallow humanness all over those we love. It just happens.

That’s a tough pill for me to swallow today.

I am only human, and it breaks my heart to know my choices, no matter how pure my intent, caused others pain. I have cried today. I have apologized, I have spoken words of understanding and love, and meant every one… and today still sucks. Because I don’t want this kind of thing to happen, especially because I messed up.

Thankfully, I’m in this with adults — strong, generous, loving humans — who join me in gathering up the pieces, and healing the hurts. We will get through this. We will learn something about ourselves and each other. We will grow. Tomorrow will be easier, better, than today, and we will celebrate. We will face the days ahead with courage, and vulnerability. We will love, and there will be joy again. In fact, there’s a tiny bit of joy even today, knowing that we are gonna be just fine.

We’re gonna let vulnerability be our magic sauce!

 

 

 

Sinner — after Hozier, Someone New (a golden shovel poem)

womanspillsink

It’s four o’clock in the morning,
know the hour, before I wake.
The beating of my heart, at 
this familiar darkness will be the 
penance to open my eyes — the first 
groaning prayer of my day. I won’t cringe. 
I shall not moan over tired bones or lack of 
sleep, I’ll flood this night-filled morning 
with words, kneel before it with ache and 
ink. I’ll spill this blood to write my 
pain across the sacred page, until my heart’s 
low hymn becomes an echo — already
chanting, rhythmic cries of sins I’ve sinned. 
———-
POETIC FORM
golden shovel – Take a line (or lines) from a poem you like. Use each word as an end word in your poem. Keep the end words in order. Credit the original poet, ie. “-after (poet)”.
POEM A DAY NOVEMBER 2015 – PROMPT:
For today’s prompt, write a mistake poem.
For more information, check out– http://www.writersdigest.com/whats-new/2015-november-pad-chapbook-challenge-day-9.

Thirsty — after Jo Dee Messina, Bring on the Rain (a golden shovel poem)

sleep

I am tired of fighting tomorrow’s 
battles, today, of thinking too long on another
possible outcome for conflict, I need a day 
of white flags, doused in gasoline and 
excuses piled up, set ablaze. I’m 
not ready to lay down tonight, too thirsty 
to swallow more words — can’t sleep anyway. 
———-
POETIC FORM
golden shovel – Take a line (or lines) from a poem you like. Use each word as an end word in your poem. Keep the end words in order. Credit the original poet, ie. “-after (poet)”.
POEM A DAY NOVEMBER 2015 – PROMPT:
For today’s prompt, write a submerged poem.
For more information, check out– http://www.writersdigest.com/whats-new/2015-november-pad-chapbook-challenge-day-8.