bone poem

How long must I hold these words
before they become a poem--
before they creep out effortless to say
what in the idle settled bones of earth
is already known?

[magnetic]

stand by
he said
but let the morning's eyes bloom

so full as they could
and almost still
beneath tree night moon
dropped every shell, like tears
after a wild stream
howling

to bear witness

"In so many ways, I wish I had not seen what I saw. Oil out to sea from horizon to horizon; people sick; marshes burned; hope collapsing. It will be years before we know the truth of this BP blowout in the Gulf of Mexico. I am now accountable. How to change my life and become more deliberate in all my actions, large and small? May my eyes stay open to the beauty of this world and act. This is my daily mantra."

"A friend said to me the other day, 'You are married to sorrow.' And I said, 'No, I just choose not to look away.' There is joy in facing the truth of our lives whether it is through beauty or terror. Perhaps it is about presence, choosing to be present with where we find ourselves at any given moment. I simply try to bear witness to what I see through the language of story."

"To bear witness is not a passive act. It can lead us to acts of consciousness and consequence."


--all from Terry Tempest Williams, in and around The Gulf Between Us

images

"Don't you cherish me to sleep
Never keep your eyelids clipped
Hold me for the pops and clicks
I was only for the father's crib

Hair, old, long along
Your neck onto your shoulder blades
Always keep that message taped
Cross your breasts you won't erase
I was only for your very space

Hip, under nothing
Propped up by your other one, face 'way from the sun
Just have to keep a dialogue
Teach our bodies: haunt the cause
I was only trying to spell a loss

Joy, it's all founded
Pincher with the skin inside
You pinned me with your black sphere eyes
You know that all the rope's untied
I was only for to die beside

So itʼs storming on the lake
Little waves our bodies break

There's a fire going out,
But there's really nothing to the south

Swollen orange and light let through
Your one piece swimmer stuck to you

Sold, I'm Ever
Open ears and open eyes
Wake up to your starboard bride
Who goes in and then stays inside
Oh the demons come, they can subside"

(Bon Iver)

and at once I knew

I was not magnificent.

resurface

“There are only two reasons for ever doing anything; one is love, and the other is fear.” 

surface [above, beneath]

once again
this aching desire to feel
alive to feel
the whole shattering force
of the wave of the world
crashing into me
surrounding me and soaking
me through like a new tall stone on the shores
on the towering cliffs above, engulfed
surrounded
windswept sea-swept
lifted from this low.
lifted and submerged in the grasp
in the sweet arms
in the sweet suffocating breath
in the salt. oh the sea.

[why didn't I dive
in? and will I not
again?]

my lungs burn from drowning
in a scream
I swallow
salt and choke
I know will come back churning
burning to be released.
Will be released--
from my eyes or mouth or from my
incoherent erratic
violence.

[I am so tired of being silenced]

Oh aching lungs
lips
hips
heart and the tips of my fingers desperate
to find the words
the motion
the truth behind this urge.

once again.
[spinning
spinning
pink shape
circle slips off my reaching
reaching outstretched hand
and flies into the sea.]

the landscape where i dwell

"How shall I live? I want to feel both the beauty and the pain of the age we are living in. I want to survive my life without becoming numb. I want to speak and comprehend words of wounding without having these words become the landscape where I dwell..."

-Terry Tempest Williams.

on love

When love beckons you, follow him,
Though his ways are hard and steep.
And when his wings enfold you, yield to him,
Though the sword hidden among his pinions may wound you.
And when he speaks to you,...
believe in him.
Though his voice may shatter your dreams
as the north wind lays waste the garden.

For even as love crowns you so shall he crucify you.
Even as he is for your growth so is he for your pruning.
Even as he ascends to your height and caresses your
tenderest branches that quiver in the sun,
So shall he descend to your roots and shake them
in their clinging to the earth.
Like sheaves of corn he gathers you unto himself.
He threshes you to make you naked.
He sifts you to free you from your husks.
He grinds you to whiteness.
He kneads you until you are pliant;
And then he assigns you to his sacred fire, that you may
become sacred bread for God's sacred feast.

All these things shall love do unto you that you may
know the secrets of your heart, and in that
knowledge become a fragment of Life's heart.

But if in your fear you would seek only love's peace
and love's pleasure

Then it is better for you that you cover your
nakedness and pass out of love's threshing-floor,

Into the seasonless world where you shall laugh, but
not all of your laughter, and weep, but not all of
your tears.
~Khalil Gibran

straddling worlds

between what I am doing and what I could ("should") be doing

I am sick of being asked what I am doing right now. Living at home. Working spottily. Taking a course. Teaching myself how to hula hoop. Growing a garden. Enjoying life. Writing, reading. Thinking about how I can make the most difference. Acting in small (seeming) ways that I believe can make a difference. And all of those are fine things to be doing, and mostly acceptable to people, but only on a temporary time period. I am expected to be trying to be doing something else--namely getting a "real job" and moving out. And maybe I do want that, but maybe I don't.

I don't want to do those things just because it is what I am supposed to do in this culture, that's for damn sure, because this culture has no reason behind what it does except that it will help the "economy." And then there are all the reasons we are conditioned to believe, like the pride of supporting yourself individually, being "independent," being "successful." But all that is just more and more becoming white noise to me. I have my own ideas of what those words mean or not, and while I may not get in depth about that right now, I believe they are more substantial, meaningful, and real.

I want to do the things I do because they bring me alive, or because they help someone, or because they are beautiful, meaningful, important things to do.

What am I doing right now?

I am trying to be alive in the most full and authentic way possible. I am trying to stay true to my values and visions. I am trying to create positive change in the world. I am trying to learn in love, be open, be true. I am focusing on my body, mind, and spirit. I am creating daily practices of movement, prayer, and learning, thinking, and action.

I am living at home. I am spending time with my cats who are lonely and domesticated and stuck in this house unable to fulfill their wild nature. I am spending time with my dad while my mom is away helping her brother who is dying from a disease created by a toxic culture and environment. I am spending time with this place, which I love, which is being stripped and desecrated. I am spending time with myself, alone, trying to release and reveal the love and life that is bursting from my heart, in a way that is meaningful and effective and true and beautiful. I am trying to live into my anger and allow it to fuel my work (and my words). In my work I am trying to stop these desecrations and diseases that pervade this country, this culture, and the human world by grieving them, feeling them fully, raising awareness about them, and acting against them, or toward something better.

I am trying to heal from a sick society. I am trying to find ways to live in greater harmony with myself and human others, and animal others, and other beings, and the earth. I am trying to resist the feeling that I need to do something that I don't want to do in order to make money instead of doing what I actually want to do which is make change. I am trying to contend with my privilege of even even having the choice to not get a full-time job or of even being able to contemplate this, and of even being able to contemplate half of what I contemplate.

I am trying to contend with all the contradictions, injustices, and criminalities of western culture, American politics, and mainstream media/society bullshit in general.

I am trying to create a new story for our time based on older stories of land-based living, and newer stories of global community, to create real community, true economy, and a grounded balanced spirituality. I am trying to reignite curiosity, passion, bursting flowering expression of self and soul and earth.

I am trying. I am feeling connected, and not separate. I am feeling more alive than not, and that is certainly something.

I don't want to stay in my current circumstance for much longer, but I whatever I step into next, I want it to be on these terms.