life
Life is broken,
like kindling stacked and ready for the match
Have I wasted my life, my home
just waiting for you?
I have gotten too used to
living in the dark
and the cold,
like tundra nights.
I am a cork, waterlogged, in the vast ocean;
We measure our time by our spinning.
I got you to tremble with lust.
Doves, all around us.
Ariel
earth
let me plant my feet deep and send out roots
let me grow yellow-green leaves this spring
and soak up the warming sun
we are living in this liminal time
before humans burn our mother up
let me disavow them, step away
and nuzzle back into the earth
be her child once again.
Ariel
last six words
You say you’re a bear but I think a boar
a cowboy looking to collar “a filly”
using a bit of flair.
Dude,
women don’t care how many greenbacks
you pull; this isn’t The Wild West.
they want self-determination and respect.
Ariel
draft
Why I’m Still Living
1: I would do anything to spend
time with my witty son. Even endure
sickness and a body of pain.
to hear his voice laugh and tease
give him two rooms, one for sleeping, one for waking
I live to see him stride across the local stage
and I must live to protect him from the snake who attacks without warning,
I must ensure his survival
2: and of course there are my furry cats
3: siblings
4: there is art. and bubbles. trees. grass. daffodils. lilacs. plums. soft fabrics. hot baths. scented candles. there is electricity. piped water. toilets and toilet paper. phones, computers and internet. instant communication. mail that comes. i have purple sheets and blankets. pillows. scented candles. wood fire. a curved couch. money. food. poet friends. art friends, music friends. theater friends. movies. a pool.
last: there’s an infinitesimal chance
you may show up at my door
(you remember where that is)
and give in to your desire.
Ariel
draft
panic
there are invisible bugs crawling on my skin
phantom boa constrictor around chest
my mind in a thousand dank caves all at once
how can I find myself
my hands slither over each other like a clutch of worms
my hair falls, trying to shield my eyes from seeing, well, everything
my arms reach out, come back empty
how can I live like this
Ariel
draft
middle
passion month
and the pink moon
is halved in the ink of it.
my honey breast is going places
looking for its north star,
hoping against hope it never moves.
this spring rhythm; again it shimmies
through my skin like a creature
emerging from thawed hibernation;
i wake, i breathe, i write.
i long for your embrace
the silliness of it, like minor falls
and major lifts.
Ariel
draft
essential angel
a gentle love of a familiar, ache
after him almost another day.
a drunk, who hungers
between blaze and ground,
soak there your heart –
an imagined bouquet
kept sacred between a season of snow
& winter, a lesser nature of air.
oh beautiful woman, he inspires
a freeze of river, whispers during night.
Ariel
Draft
Nine wounds of Frida
from The Wounded Deer by Frida Kalho
Was she the woodland creature
or the fallen branch we overlook
Same difference,
she was lost among the trees
And could only follow the water line
back towards herself,
horns and all.
Ariel
draft
habits
My prayers take on the form learned in childhood.
Ariel
draft
fuck up better
on a day like today, when you fuck up
even before you wake up
you hope to at least fall forward
and miss getting it in the face
on a day when the morning alarms
weren't loud enough to rouse
you tell yourself that you are human
and this is likely fixable, with hat in hand
and so you go to take it on the chin
confess that it was all your fault
and "what can I do to rectify this?"
needs to fall from your mouth
often and repeatedly.
Ariel
draft
headlines
detective stories are most often stolen from New York library
I never return the luscious art books I've check out
It's okay, in December I bring in canned food to pay my debt
is this charity? I don't know
when the wind blows my loose hair,
it is never as alluring as novels say
neither are dresses.
Sneakers the thing; best footwear
for the woods on account of comfort
still, i got furious when a friend
asked me to stand on my head.
I will not; however,
I would sit on a burglar,
and teach him, like a naughty bird,
cuss words until he returns to his den
I'm a queer bird that looks part monkey,
part eagle, and a little bit dove.
Truth be told my young pheasants are
ashamed of their dowdy old mother.
I don't care; I will buy the Eiffel Tower
and paint the cats that come,
feed the queer ones; they are such cheeky fellows.
lightni,cng will scatter pastry across the graveyards,
ghosts and dogs will sit right down
eat pie and cakes, drink a kettle of coffee,
ice cream? For breakfast? So Ezra Pound said,.
Ariel
draft
instructions on how to love me
bring me home rose bushes
complete with thorns
so i may plant them near my windows.
surprise me with kittens
and full grown cats
name them something ridiculous
take me to bookstores
and let me bring home my bounty
and read to you
drive me to the seashore
and build me a bonfire
watch me dance to old gods
lay near me quietly at night
touch me as you will
listen to my heart beat.
Ariel
draft
twofer tuesday
it rained and didn't rain
and i sat on the couch and paced
again i didn't want and desperately needed
you and me
two is supposed to be my lucky number
but now I am only one
or zero
i want to be two,
two for you and me.
Ariel
draft
ode to a lottery
hope
it's easier to feel it with a slip
of paper in your hand
knowing however slim
there's one chance that is all yours
numbers that, as a group, belong to you
when the roof leaks
and the electricity is iffy
that little paper keeps you dry.
Ariel
draft
encounter, never should have been
Someone introduced my computer to McAfee
and McAfee moved right in
rearranging files and moving in new furniture
Did they not know I had already 86'ed that guy
that guy with the cutoff vest and roaring Harley
he punches out walls, brings in trash everywhere.
Now I must start the eviction process
go to court and see the sheriff's deputy.
This will not end well.
Ariel
draft
with luck
why tell stories
if there'll be no one left to tell
why write you poems
if you won't read them
why love you
if you're not here
perhaps
because we may not end.
we may be live again in another life
and find each other
then all I'll have to do
is remember the words
or maybe our souls will
find each other after death
and I'll have eternity to recite them
as I spoon-feed you ambrosia
angels setting my words to music
because love lasts forever.
maybe archeologists will discover them
translating our prehistoric scribblings
and the Future will find out
I loved you so deeply and completely
and more stories will be written
my love for you continuing.
Ariel
draft
wish you were here
tide is coming in
why have I built a sandcastle?
I wanted something for you to enter
a home, a place to belong
walls to hold you, a floor
our time was more temporary
than I had planned it to be
you know, even stars eventually die
with a bang, and then suck everything in
I want to suck you into my black hole
spend eternity with you together.
you went out with the tide,
will you come back in?
Ariel
draft
strangest thing
The strangest thing is not the platypus
with its furred body and laying eggs
nor is it starfish having
a brain in each arm.
It is that I still love you
without reason.
Ariel
optimistic
the sky is gray
and outside January cold
yet it is the start of April
daffodils braved the artic weather
will the tulips also show their faces
will the primroses open
the sun approaches closer and closer
parts those deary curtains to the side
(who hung them anyways)
reaches down and caresses the fruit trees
spring is coming, is coming I say
brush aside the dried leaves still there
let the stalks grow tall.
Ariel
Red Fern
A boy loves his dogs
more than pennies he collects
in an old mason jar
and dogs love their boy,
more than the scent of coons
or the joy of the chase
the boy feeds them table scraps
from his own plate
has them sleep on his bed
rather than the cold shed
the dogs love their boy
with a passion only wild things love
the boy loves his dogs
with a passion only young boys have
the dogs wiggle with joy at his call
lead him into the untamed woods
find prey for him, coon skins
and lay their lives down for him
where the red fern grows.
Ariel
I am doing National Poetry Writing Month and April Poem-A-Day challenges again this year. I’m going to catch up here over the next few days. I’m behind because my ‘puter got a virus and I have had to rebuild it. I think it is all good, now.
Keep in mind that all poems posted in my blog tend to be drafts, especially during a month like April or November.
Let’s start with “cage”.
a cage
this heaving
this skin and bones
trapped as if
a tornado in my gut
gelatinous organs
an ocean,
churning in a storm
tossing me and burying me
a freezing grave
poisonous salt water
burning through my lungs
a time
of nonexistence
wishing death
stripped
of all I am, trapped
a second stretched to week
too weak
my head, my limbs
this virus
a cedar
chopped down
drying out
sap too thick to flow
bark lets go of trunk
and falls
to pests and pestilence
to be eaten
consumed by microbes
a window
to death
a curser
a bird after hitting the pane
falling, my wings akimbo
broken bones shiver
but hold their frame
a sword
with a weak spot
keep me sheathed
use me and i will shatter
so I wait
in this cage
of skin and bone
organs gelatinous
until a call
a flute
to rise again
and I am reborn
on the shore
able to fly.
Ariel
Sorry; life still throwing some curve balls at me … I’ll get more timely on posting these prompts
Today’s prompt is Edgar Allan Poe’s “They who dream by day are cognizant of many things which escape those who dream only by night.” Continue reading “Jan 27 prompt”
Posting early …
Today’s prompt is “She never looked nice. She looked like art, and art wasn’t supposed to look nice; it was supposed to make you feel something.” Continue reading “Jan 26 prompt”
Sorry – I’ve had guests today …
Today’s prompt is “Give yourself some credit for how far you’ve come.” Continue reading “Jan 25 prompt”
A late morning today,
Friday’s prompt is CS Lewis’ “There are far far better things ahead than any we leave behind.” Continue reading “Jan 24 prompt”
nwpoetariel
Ariel, Pacific NW poet 