Posts tagged “Poetry”

Ill living

Once, when I was much much younger, I told someone I trusted that every day I chose to live. I thought this person might understand something of what it was to live with chronic migraine. But they ordered a wellness check and our interactions turned achingly distant and coldly professional. I am reading the October […]

From “Where the Forests Breathe”

Nobody knows how little we know about this forest. And nobody knows how much time we have to piece it all together either, nor how many mistakes we can make and survive. So best believe the ineffable gives life to what we can love and revere, as when we revel in the vine maple’s red […]

I walked it, I walked it, I walk it.

In That Year And in that year my body was a pillar of smoke and even his hands could not hold me. And in that year my mind was an empty table and he laid his thoughts down like dishes of plenty. And in that year my heart was the old monument, the folly, and […]

Bulbs from my mother

From 3QD: What the Old Woman Said I will tell you this. There was a garden by the pump. Fallow land given me. My father built flowerbeds. Offshoots of paths. Geometric patterns. Cuttings. Bulbs from my mother. The texture of earth. Stone. The smell of water. I could grow anything. I will tell you this. […]

A poem for your Monday

Straight from 3QD: TWO STARS   after  Mohammed  Iqbal As two stars approached Each other, one said: “If we could stay Only could stop whirling, If the sky were kinder We’d shine together.” But this desire of two Bears longing in itself. Stars are fated to revolve In orbits ordained. Together is a dream Separation […]

Sunday Poem

Following Frida That mono-brow wouldn’t work today. Girls wax the in-betweens, the ups and downs, smooth, smooth. Sometimes, the greenery around the hacienda itches so much we sneeze and tickle, create unnecessary frowns, a slippage. There’s always Dr. Death, of course, his bright smile, that happy mouth inviting us to pout and make kiss shapes. […]

This is how to build

A Visit Gone are the days when you could walk on water. When you could walk. The days are gone. Only one day remains, the one you’re in. The memory is no friend. It can only tell you what you no longer have: a left hand you can use, two feet that walk. All the […]