Sylvia

•December 31, 2014 • 5 Comments

I will serve no one
Not even me, only living
Will be my lover

I will serve no order
Not even thine, only chaos
Will be my minister

I will serve no wellness
Not even mine, this sickness
Will be my mistress

I will serve no comfort
Not even bliss, only suffering
Will be my savior

I will serve no silence
Not for long, this voice
Will be my villain

I will serve nothing
Not even my self, impermanence
Will be my master

-a.r.

/home/wpcom/public_html/wp-content/blogs.dir/874/35995244/files/2014/12/img_1769.jpg
Painting: Lady Lazarus — Sylvia Plath
by Aleksej Daniel Djermanovic

Posted in Body, Death, Humanity, Identity, Marriage, Meditation, Poetry, Women's Issues, Writing
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Traveling

•December 21, 2014 • 1 Comment

Dear Readers,

Just a quick note to let everyone know that I will be traveling, visiting family, for the next two weeks. I will write and post, if and when I can. May your holidays bring you whatever it is that you wish for whether it be joy and liveliness, peace and quiet, or simply a couple of weeks just like all the other weeks.

Poetry & Practice,
april

image

Photo: Suitcase and Girl found on thepaintfactorypdx.com

Posted in Family, Friendship, Writing
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Ritual

•December 18, 2014 • Leave a Comment

My skin it ripples where I grip
My heartbeat slows its gulping
My body floats
My spirit soaks
My sins each bath absolving

-a.r.

/home/wpcom/public_html/wp-content/blogs.dir/874/35995244/files/2014/12/img_1747.jpg
Photograph by Linda Troeller

Posted in Body, Humanity, Poetry
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Home and Skin

•December 18, 2014 • 3 Comments

I should write
But I exhale
The “shoulds” whisper
To no avail
I settle in
To home and skin
Until the watch
Begins again

-a.r.

jack vettriano

Painting by Jack Vettriano

Posted in Body, Family, Food, Food & Wine, Friendship, Identity, Meditation, Poetry, Writing
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Season’s Greetings

•December 15, 2014 • 2 Comments

Much too fast or way too slow
The felt sense of these days I know
Family time and travel soon
My skull and skin with shrinking room
Outcomes drift up in the air
My stuff piles here as thoughts fly there
I’m good to go or not enough
This season’s self-talk-shit gets rough
Wrapping and unwrapping fears
Shared spaces whisper in the year
Resolute, I’ll make the effort
My messy self kept in the present
What I want and what I need
The gift is that it’s up to me

-a.r.

IMG_1736.JPG
Painting: Girl in a Copper Dress 3 by Steve Henderson

Posted in Body, Family, Food, Food & Wine, Identity, Marriage, Meditation, Poetry
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Something’s Wrong with Haiku

•December 14, 2014 • Leave a Comment

Our banks writing bills
Our lawmakers letting them
Our future is passed

Our bodies abused
Our speaking is then slandered
Our value erased

Our people as prey
Our protectors not serving
Our past still present

Our silence allows
Our vengeance devours us
Our words must ring out

-a.r.

IMG_1715.JPG
Painting: Rainbow Voices by Kim Novak

Posted in Abuse, Body, Equal Rights, Friendship, Human Rights, Humanity, Identity, Loss, Poetry, Women's Rights, Writing
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Sensitive

•December 11, 2014 • Leave a Comment

It seems I chose the softest part
A precious spot on which to start
Pale and tender this thinned skin
No better place to let pain in

-a.r.

IMG_1712-1.JPG
Painting: Vulnerable by Shana Molt on Etsy

Posted in Abuse, Body, Humanity, Identity, Meditation, Poetry
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Silly Bear

•December 8, 2014 • 7 Comments

Love-hate has always been
My relationship with all things
Including with myself
I have not been able
To give myself completely
To imperfect love affairs
Or family affairs
I always keep a part of me
Guarded and regarding
From a safe sardonic distance
I have rarely even questioned
My hardened nature
It kept me safe
Until this morning
As I slept
My daughter woke me softly
With a kiss to say goodbye
She offered me her Pooh Bear
She said I should hold him for safe-keeping
Half asleep and without hesitation
I held out my hands to her
And I gently took the bear
I pulled him tight to my chest
Wrapped my arms around him
And rested my head between his little ears
In my early morning haze
I exhaled so completely
That I suddenly felt as if I were falling in love
Unashamed, unprotected, unguarded
Unabashedly I cried
Why did I let this go
Why did I ever hide this away
Why did I put it in a box, in a bag, on a shelf
Why did I give it away
Why did I call it child’s play
I want it back again
This freedom to let myself fall
Even if it is only pretend
Even if it is only for the length of a hug

-a.r.

IMG_1699.JPG
Image found on e-reading-lib.org

Posted in Body, Family, Humanity, Motherhood, Poetry, Whimsy
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Little Things

•December 4, 2014 • 1 Comment

Loss of little things
Pinpricks of impermanence
Paper cuts still sting

-a.r.

image

Painting: Broken Chinese Porcelain by Jan Teunissen

Posted in Humanity, Loss, Meditation, Poetry, Twitter, Whimsy
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Walkabout (again)

•December 3, 2014 • Leave a Comment

Are we so bored
Uninterested and unaware
Of our own travels
That we miss
Our own momentum
Demanding then
Racy bandwagons
To hitchhike on
Hoping, hopping
From one to the next
To another
No. I’ll get there
Eventually
So I wave them by
And think
I am content
To take my time
On my own
Two feet

-a.r.

girl walking alone in a golden paddy fieldPhotograph: Girl Walking Alone in a Golden Paddy Field by Atul Tater

Posted in Body, Humanity, Identity, Meditation, Nature, Poetry
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