Fits and Starts (again)

•October 22, 2014 • 4 Comments

I evolve in fits and starts
When shifting sand below my feet
Swallows me and spits me out
I grind the grit between my teeth

Annoyed and agitated yes
The stuff that sticks and stabs
Might be the harbinger of new
Movement that shoves me off my ass

Then sometimes I stay still and sit
Sink peaceful to the depths
I wallow blissed in dark a bit
‘Till all that’s left is barely breath

Yes, I evolve in fits and starts
My meditation too
I’m glad of it, play in the sand
Until this hourglass runs through

-a.r.

Hourglass Artwork: Hourglass by ForestFaerieQuean, on deviantART.com

Reposted because WordPress is being wonky this morning, or maybe I am, either way…here it is again, this time when and where I originally wanted it posted. I guess you can’t expect to post a poem about fits and starts without a few fits and starts.

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

•October 21, 2014 • 1 Comment

My daughter witnessed death today
Only a lowly squirrel
But, the thump, the crack, the randomness
Sent wild her little world

She screamed and sobbed and shook a bit
Tried an escape inside my arms
But there was no way around the thing
And so she cursed the driver long

She then imagined hover cars
Invention as a cure!
With tears still streaming down her face
She’d found a fix, yes, she was sure

But by evening she confessed to me
The scene was seared inside her brain
Nothing she tried could stop the death
From happening again

I have my own confession child
It’s not the kill that wrecks me so
But the playmate who had given chase
Now left alone beside the road

-a.r.

XIR184766Painting: Squirrels by Albrecht Dürer

Posted in Death, Family, Friendship, God, Motherhood, Nature, Poetry
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Fits and Starts (part two)

•October 20, 2014 • Leave a Comment

I evolve in fits and starts
When shifting sand below my feet
Swallows me and spits me out
I grind the grit between my teeth

Annoyed and agitated yes
The stuff that sticks and stabs
Might be the harbinger of new
Movement that shoves me off my ass

Then sometimes I stay still and sit
Sink peaceful to the depths
I wallow blissed in dark a bit
‘Till all that’s left is barely breath

Yes, I evolve in fits and starts
My meditation too
I’m glad of it, play in the sand
Until this hourglass runs through

-a.r.

Hourglass
Artwork: Hourglass by ForestFaerieQuean, on deviantART.com

Posted in Abuse, Body, Humanity, Meditation, Poetry
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Stone

•October 20, 2014 • Leave a Comment

Should I wait silent
For someone else to speak up
I cement my tomb

-a.r.

image“The Beauty of Loulan”

Posted in Abuse, Body, Death, Equal Rights, Human Rights, Humanity, Poetry, Twitter, Women's Rights
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Hypocrites!

•October 18, 2014 • 1 Comment

Where are the crosses
In churchyards for the living
Children raped by priests

-a.r.

image

Posted in Abuse, God, Human Rights, Humanity, Poetry, Twitter
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I Qui(l)t

•October 16, 2014 • 1 Comment

Single stitch holding

This patchwork peace together,

I found the scissors.

-a.r.

fistful-of-scissors-charlie-spear

Painting: Fistful of Scissors by Charlie Spear

Posted in Family, Loss, Marriage, Meditation, Motherhood, Poetry, Twitter
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A (new) Choice

•October 15, 2014 • 6 Comments

I
Am the stray hair
Caught in my eyelash there
During silent sitting
I
Am the hot knot
Churning hungry in my gut
While I am sitting still
I
Am the bones
Inside my toes
Grinding
Into the ground
When I chose not to move
I
Am the decision
I will have to make
When I get up
And go through my day
I
For now
Am willing
To be
The tug and sting in my eye
The rot and rumble in my gut
The gristly grating in my bones
The desire to choose in my chest
I
Will sit with
Me

-a.r.

frida-kahlo-the-broken-column

The Broken Column, Frida Kahlo

A reworking of a recent poem, because it made more sense this way…today.

Posted in Abuse, Body, Family, Humanity, Identity, Marriage, Meditation, Poetry
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Early Reaping (again)

•October 14, 2014 • Leave a Comment

A crow carried my soul away
Too many years before I passed
Beyond my body breaking low
I parted gladly in his grasp

Not soon enough for saving though
I was no longer fit for that
Having been born savagely so
Ravaged quite well before this act

He flew in through the window
With winging swirling shattered glass
Swooping he scooped my spirit up
And gave me leave from living fast

But what to do with wispy me
Pitied much sooner than was tasked
We’re now each other’s chore forever
More with purgatory ticking past

-a.r.

imagePainting: Touch in the Mist by Ryta

Posted in Abuse, Body, Death, God, Humanity, Identity, Loss, Nature
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Bare

•October 13, 2014 • Leave a Comment

I wear the stink of a well-worn shoe
And its co-conspiring sock
I’m a fleshy foot
Framed and cushioned long
Now walking wild, bare beyond the wash

-a.r.

Foot Edward Nigles

Painting by Edward G. Nilges

Posted in Body, Humanity, Identity, Nature, Poetry, Whimsy
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Gray Day (again)

•October 13, 2014 • 2 Comments

Nothing

But rain dripping deep and hollow

On the roof a heartbeat

Irregular

Nothing

But cold coffee in my mug

Reheated and forgotten and reheated

Forgotten

Nothing

But churning in my stomach

Growling at me to be filled

Knotted

Nothing

But the smallest of blood flow reaching my toes

Unnoticed until standing, then

Collapsing

Nothing

Published, but drafts of poems

Edited and waiting

Delaying

Nothing

To do today but file away

The moments as they dribble past

Gray and drab

Nothing

-a.r.

gray-day
Painting: Trees, Clouds, Gray Day by Tom Brown

Posted in Meditation, Nature, Poetry, Writing
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