Saturday, September 28, 2013

She said, "Love your tree!"

So my 
feet grew 
roots deep & mighty 
ropes to anchor a ship 

And my belly heard earthquakes
& animal cries before fear could strike

And my fingers trembled like a leaf when
 when you rested under my shade of  blooms  

And my thighs became strong to wrap  around 
the man  & hold him here, and my breasts heavy

with milk  dripped  before my child  could utter a cry  
And my hands soft as feathers nurtured the fire of nests 

My  spine tingled  with distrust and healed with care 
and  my bones  heard  darkest of  storms coming

 Under every line, freckle & wrinkle, I relished:  
seeds, sap, cracks, decay & fruits 

Then, I echoed back 
mother's words :
   
I love my tree! 


Update:   This has been selected as Poem of the Week by Poets United


“The body knows things a long time before the mind catches up to them. I was wondering what my body knew that I didn't.” 
And I thought of sharing this lovely poster ~

Credit:   TreeSisters

Tuesday, September 24, 2013

Season of autumn



morning fogs garden 
mulch of yellow leaves & 
bug-bitten blooms -
everything bows to autumn rain:  
trees, petals, even my words    
     


~0~0~



a maple leaf falls 
on empty playground 
its descent, an arc 
 unsteady in cool breeze - 
sunset fills my eyes      





And in honor of Ghanian poet, Kofi Awooner who died in Kenyan shopping mall over the weekend in hands of the Al Qaeda linked terrorists, I was inspired to write this:

autumn never came for you:
your words are always spring
& rain & drumbeats of hope-
now the black birds are silent
& elephants are weeping a river 


Posted for D'verse Poets Pub - OpenLinkNight - Thanks for the visit ~  
Shared with Real Toads - Tanka poems 
Picture credit:  here

Saturday, September 21, 2013

You ask me, a poet, to write of peace



Instead 
I pour sea salt
on floor, white crystals on black 
forming lines, trails, zigzags, u-turns grief    
to healing, meticulously hour after hour, 
a canvas emerges 

Instead 
I stitch a patch  
with my sisters, aunts, girlfriends
pinning & folding each sides carefully, 
delicately threading, day after day
a quilt spreads

Instead
I prepare chicken soup
& fresh salads & bake pies
rinsing & wiping each plate & cup 
tending a warm fire, season after season
a hearth nests 

Instead
I pot the garden 
& sweep neighbor's side of fallen leaves
offering my bus seat to an old man
& smiles to tired woman behind the check-out counter
a bridge shapes  

Instead
I gather all:  words & salt grains
& hurl them back to the tides during autumn's eve  
perhaps this is how peace finally arrives:
to accept that all returns 
to sea  


Posted for D'verse Poets Pub - Poetics on Peace - Inspired by the artist work via Colossal
Thanks for the visit ~

Tuesday, September 17, 2013

Fishbones

My spine stiffens before the devouring:
Close eyes, feel nothing, not even disgust
Hardening becomes the norm, factor & given
Picked clean to the bones, I gather my salt

At night, weave & cast net for words & foam
By the light of harvest moon, flesh & fins quiver
There is partaking of a different kind: deep
Nourishing blood, spewing poison rotting the lungs




Posted for D'verse Poets Pub - OpenLinkNight ~  Thanks for the visit ~ 

Saturday, September 14, 2013

Naked, the song's A SmaSh-


Pages 
torn raw  
bellies & guts out 
spread eagle, unfurling for all to see- 

      No, not the naked ex-teen princess  
      in wrecking ball video, humping/singing, whose father
      said it wouldn't matter if she wore jeans & flannel shirt,
      the song's A SmaSh-  SmaSh 

           the SpInES, edgeS 
           & cover SheetS until lines 

                 d i l u t e 

           & water drOwN the artist-
           a coMModity, scAndAl, nEwSrEel- 
           
     the song's A SmaSh-  SmaSh 
     My teen girl saw it (xXhits in xXhrs) so I tell her- it matters that you 
     wear clothes decent/clean, hold one's tongue IN/choose care-
     fully, simply be    

bouquet, canvas, vase or sculpture-
fire-carved, tears-tempered &  
made with bare 
hands 


Art Made from Books: Altered, Sculpted, Carved, Transformed


Posted for D'verse Poets Pub - Thanks for the visit ~

Fragility



Fragile
leaves, I’m a tree
unyielding, like a storm
I’ll not lay blame on changing clouds,
nor the quickening sands, moulding my hands
into pearls, layered hard, shiny -
Peel away  skin  at  night:  
blood, scars, fears- I’m
Fragile



Posted for Imaginary Garden for Real Toads - I am featuring the lovely work of Kathryn Dyche Dechairo.   There's a give-away for those participating until OLN Monday.   Thanks Kathryn !!!
Poetry form:   Rictameter (9 lines) 

Shared with Poets United

Tuesday, September 10, 2013

Voracious

kill the palate of old habits:
fresh soup, chicken, vegetables & fruits 

scorn the fingers & hands
of crushing garlic, chopping spices & herbs

until we get used to dry chemicals 
& pills & frozen dinner rolls & thirsty

equates to sugar pop rush, not fresh water-
saturate the pan with salt & MSG until  

bellies widen with forgetting
grandma's recipes & bones turn delicate

with milk & cheese sealed in plastics-
slow & wait & reap becomes outdated for fast-

food, and on some days we're looking  
for flesh, juice, pit & seeds

ironically it will be packaged
more expensive in glossier paper & labels

someday we will be very hungry 
& not even food can fill it -



Posted for D'verse Poets Pub - OpenLinkNight - Thanks for the visit ~

Sunday, September 8, 2013

While eating thai food & memories


Thai Beef Satay @ Grace


her body is stooped spoon, heavy from
     deaths of husband, parents, two siblings
     dealing with autistic child now a young adult
               with violent behavioral challenges

but her eyes are clear as river
     detailing childhood toys, books, garden, games   
     snippets of conversations with cousins, names 
               & dates & years traversed like a bridge 

prayers, i keep on praying, she says
     as we look at her 1 album, covered neat & shiny,   
     i have many more pictures, she adds, 
              but its all buried in mess   

except stories of growing up in grandma's house, 
     now long gone: stones, trees, landscape of houses-  
     & as i eat my thai noodles & satay, i wonder 
             what memories my children will keep 

Posted for Poets United -  Spent Saturday afternoon in Toronto City, meeting up with hubby's cousins ~ Thanks for the visit ~

Thursday, September 5, 2013

River

 Rideau Canal, Ottawa City @ Grace

I.

red-skinned or paler than sky
my tongue is a serpent,
my bones, softer than sands
but you will never see my face

II.

in the aftermath of winter storm 
& howling winds, carved still by 
northern sky, i turn into an old woman,  
but you will never see me weep


Posted for D'verse Poets Pub - Riddles ~ Thanks for the visit ~

Wednesday, September 4, 2013

looking out from my (business class) seat


Grace @ Everyday Amazing

the trees are throwing up
their hands in the air, shouting
verses & clapping hands- 

summer rushes, an impatient choir
as train carries me
feather light through corn & winery fields  

i let business & weighty  
matters of expectations & scorecards   
fade & slide behind me, 

the window, a waterfall of green
leaves as clouds followed me  
billowing the sky 


Posted for:   Imaginary Garden with Real Toads - Things Carried
I was in Ottawa City last week for a company sponsored sales conference.
And Flash Fiction Friday - 55 words for the G-man.