This Ache

•October 25, 2014 • 6 Comments

This ache
Here you are again
Nesting nerves under my skin
The obvious and throbbing thumb
The growling ghost inside my gut
The drawer left open yesterday
The toppled pile of disarray
The hungry tug away from tasks
The dream today that just distracts
The chair pulled out and left that way
The knick-knack put back out of place
The water boiling down to bare
The scent of scorching in the air
The forgotten feeling left ajar
The cold stuffs spoiling where they are
The dust shadow upon the shelf
The empty pang for something else
You reside inside this space
Here you are again
This ache

-a.r

IMG_1513.JPG
Painting: Rachael by Heather Bolinder

Posted in Body, Identity, Loss, Meditation, Poetry
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Magical Thinking

•October 23, 2014 • Leave a Comment

I thought of rooms on fire
And the smoke alarm detected
A strangeness still in the air
After I had smelled its ash for days
Finally, the sound of something there

Then I thought of you
And the back door blew open
Cooling parts of me by breeze, exposed,
My wildness calmed, for just a moment
I let it stay askew to spite the chill

Then I thought of other worlds
And words with eyes glared at me from pages
Winked at me from gaps in speakers
As verse and music mingled
I was moved and moving all day long

And then I thought, “Now, I am strong”
I let myself follow whims and feel it all
The electric me let loose
A magnetic pulse to pause all machinations
And I am still buzzing, and causing blazes

-a.r.

Magical Thinking Photo Shoot Tim Walker Image: Magical Thinking, a photo shoot by Tim Walker

Posted in Body, Dance, Identity, Music, Poetry, Whimsy
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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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