sometimes in Fall
when the mist is just right
floating, hanging in light
you can make out a wall
a rampart extends
from the Back of Beyond
shouting of a far place
that is ever so near
and if you simply walk
walk right thru that deft arch
on your light tippytoes
you can just about touch
the glowery stem
of the flowery Rose
at the Center of all…
sometimes in Fall
the soft day
from the stage
her way gentle
and in layers
of soft silky
and I, brief burst
upon the face
of quiet night
shine fierce in
my sharp longing.
Source: The Quiet Lonely Lake
These haiku are over 35 years old
Source: Haiku #9
To you newish readers, here is another of my favorite poems, from a couple of years ago…Our Little Hut…dedicated to my Love
Source: Our Little Hut
Constance…Thank you for your patience with me as I am not writing new things right now…but do I ever, really?
Write new things…
Oh, I catch poems that have not yet been caged in words, and do so with some volume…but I dunno if they are new.
But I am focused on the election, and no, not the candidates…but the story this election is telling about the lurking horror inside so many in this nation, which is the seeds of destruction for so many souls.
In the meantime, enjoy some of the poems from the past as I post them. You can also check out my FB page…if you are not yet a friend, request me with a message that you read at Grace Notes. ❤
Source: Grace Upon Grace
“I want adventure in the great, wide somewhere I want it more than I can tell And for once it might be grand To have someone understand I want so much more than they’ve got planned…” – “…
I am re-blogging this old poem, for it is one of my very favorites, and I think it is actually one of my most excellent poems as well. The metaphors are very full and agile…I wrote about one night in the winery, doing “Evening Punch”, that process where the crushed mass of grape clusters together with the seeds and stems called “must” is pierced over and over again with an implement called a “punch”…
OH!!! How these things just came alive to me!! I encourage you to think about things like:
dirt become flesh
flesh become spirit
silver (color of redemption)
As I have commented before, I think wine is the central metaphor that best explains the journey of Life, and the task we are all given. In that post, I said that a good bottle of wine is the disti…
Source: The Must
Contrast the difference a year makes… Reeling In Rome when the blow of being shunned by flesh and blood was fresh… And the next, the poem below, when I had been born from betwixt the legs of suffering, and becoming…
Source: Morning Meditations
Things feel like silk over thistles. My heart is home, snuggled down certain and in place and yet, underneath being home, pulses pain sighs sorrow sings sadness tamborine thistles timbrel thorns cl…
Source: Reeling in Rome
I wrote this to one of my deepest loves… The day after the hardest text I ever heard. Two years later, and it’s still unclear whether this rift will ever be healed, or just stand there gaping and bloody, gawking blindly at the horror of separation…
high strung doesn’t even come close to how high strung i really am… but i lay like the dead lifeless, empty inside, afraid, seeing your departure as the substance of my ugliness and you…
I am Pressing this poem from a couple years ago…it was just before The Great Reduction began…it is written to and for my friend Dani over at Blooming Spiders…and I think it captures something of what makes a friendship.
I love you Dani…always your sister,
Source: I Smelled Rosemary and Sage
Say yes with your pupils,
black and unadoring,
to to white lace promises;
the little half- truths
that kill tomorrows
that never morph
Twist my heart
one ventricle at a time,
out of empty chambers
ripe for the picking.
One last repost…it is the contrast here of the mountains and the valleys that creates the space in-between…a space that I love to write about.
Edges are not merely the furthest border of a given territory…Edges by definition are their own space, and time and place…transgender people inhabit edges in obvious given ways…but I write as I do, speak as I do so that you can tumble to the fact that all human beings live in “Edges”…
…it is what makes us human.
What are your edges? Your furthest reaches?
And what “Edge” is that place that is you?
Mama’s words to me are mine.
Source: Mama You Told Me
This is my naming poem. It is one of my very favorite works…I am happy with the allusions, metaphors, the techniques and inferences…the resonances in the poem and the implications of a transwoman being a “half-sister”…
Well, I just love it and I hope that you can find some resonance that echoes to your own life.
words. swallowed in medicine times but found to be only poison slow half-life killers just in time spat out in relief, in apprehension, in hope… i am jacob’s half-sister confessing her …
Source: Jacob’s Half-Sister
This is a re-post of a poem written last year…this goes out to my recent “Constances” who have come round after this poem was composed…I am so honored that you read here and I hope this poem rings a bell within.
Source: Love And Breath
To Trump Voter:
You are against divorce.
You say you hate porn.
You hate Hillary for reasons that you cannot link to anything
except the onslaught of attack from the 90s…
So therefore you are gunna vote for a man who:
Sends Gingrich and Giuliani to attack Hillary because HER husband
was unfaithful but SHE HERSELF WAS FAITHFUL…
He himself also attacks her on this basis…
Which means that between Gingrich, Giuliani and Trump they have 9 wives…
NINE!!! NINE WIVES!!! Which means that you are supporting a candidate
that is ANTITHETICAL to EVERYTHING you claim is core value.
You get angry and defensive when this is pointed out.
You say the media is lying to you about this, and that
Fox News is the only one that tells you the truth.
Even though the internet gives the ability to check out multiple sources for yourself
so you CAN find out who is telling the news straight…if you want to.
But you would rather sit…and pull Fox News’s lies around
you like a snuggly warm dirty diaper around your brain.
Yes…it is warm…but you now have the WORST case of mental diaper rash.
Do you know that Trump..your Presidential Nominee…
uses his DIRECT COMMUNICATION LINE (Twitter)
to TELL YOU to look at a sex tape of some woman
that he has already insulted, bullied and verbally abused…
AT THE SAME TIME WORLD LEADERS ARE EULOGIZING Shimon Peres…
let that sink in.
Trump is raving about sex tapes and everyone else is being world leaders…
SOOOO….when the sex tape search was conducted???
NO sex tape found with Hillary…
NO sex tape found with the person he accuses…
ONE SEX TAPE FOUND!!!
Do you know who is the star?
(It’s a hard Q, given what I just wrote…it will shock you,
cus NO ONE would or could imagine this person doing a sex tape…NOT)
Donald Trump. Your Nominee.
Leads off the tape pouring champagne on women…and it goes downhill from there.
I am outraged, upset, and deeply DEEPLY grieved that you sit…
and tell me that God wants Trump…tell me that the christian thing to do
is put Trump in place…give your support to the evangelical right who have
SOLD THEIR FREAKING SOULS TO THE DEVIL and climbed in bed with Trump…
It’s like watching Donald Trump and you his supporters
commit sex tape atrocities EVERY SINGLE DAY!
Yes, this whole election has been like A Clockwork Orange,
and being forced to watch such perversions…
the perversion of a formerly Grand Old Party,
and the degeneration of a whole expression of Christendom
into masturbatory self-worship at best
and adulterous profligate orgies of hatred and fear.
He disgusts me…deeply.
You disappoint me…sadly and intensely.
And after all of the above, I STILL find myself utterly unable
to purge myself of my intense and literal keening…and grief…
Fallen! Fallen! Oh! The Beauty of Israel is slain on the mountains!
You were once swifter than eagles! You were stronger than lions!
Tales of your renown circled the world in scarlet threads of redemption.
Your reputation was faith, hope, and love!
Fallen! Slain! Your lips once held rubies of love, pearls of wisdom…
and now your mouth is an open grave of worms and maggots.
You were robed in scarlet…you had ornaments of gold
but now you are wrapped in filthy rags and rotten blood
and ornamented with skulls and the teeth of your enemies…
Once your song smelled sweet of salvation
but now your very breath is death, and your speech is STENCH
and you stink of hypocrisy, adultery, idolatry, and your medal of honor
is nuffin but a divided heart.
WEEP AND HOWL!!!
REPENT!! REPENT YOU HYPOCRITES!
Let your sorrow no longer be for those you condemn to hell
but for yourselves, and PRAY that it be godly sorrow
which produces repentance!
I am distressed, I am in mourning and my sun has set.
I remember when your love was sweet, sweeter than song
and I flounder in this night of long knives and zombie moans
But I shall wait for dawn unflinching
I shall see the rise of the Morning Star
and the oppressed shall sing again
and the fatherless shall be gathered
for justice shall come, in rivers and waves
rolling in righteous streams
to cleanse…to heal…
I write with no expectation of a metanoia…
I write in Hope, that Great Holy Spirit is in this world…
to convict humans concerning deviations
and woo with Love.
May God have mercy on us all
and deliver us NOT from Donald Trump…
but from our divided avaristic hearts
that led us here to the precipice of self
on which we now teeter.