Okay, when you get to those dozen roses--I wasn't expecting this best friend line. And l like the phrase "to let him hold it then and now and never" with the turn of the line there at "care" -- yes!
The multi-sensory nature of this poem really got me. The line "become the wind so I can travel unseen" opened a space between realms. Haunting, in a good way. The ideas of tasting childhood and returning to girlhood to be loved again as a child, wow. My eyes dewed up.
Great grief poem, I really feel the pain and longing in it. I love 'I want the words to come out written,' and how it fits expressing grief. Really any kind of strong emotion.
Love the details in the opening stanza, especially the gorgeous green candle. And I love how the wanting a sister morphs into a desire for a life partner to have a family with
I Want to Rewrite Fatal Attraction
And make the rabbit break free before
the villain boils her. I want to brush
my hair with cinnamon. I want to find
wedding rings thrown from a bridge
in Reno. I want to touch a newborn
filly after she’s licked clean. I want to hold
the dozen roses my high school crush gave
to my best friend. I want to let a dairy
calf suckle my hand. I want to smell fresh baled
alfalfa in summer sun. And when the man
I want to love takes my hand, I want
to let him hold it then and now and never
care if others see or what they think
we do behind his door.
Okay, when you get to those dozen roses--I wasn't expecting this best friend line. And l like the phrase "to let him hold it then and now and never" with the turn of the line there at "care" -- yes!
Agreed, that line break with "gave / to my best friend" was exquisite.
This is so great. Brush my hair with cinnamon, the wedding rings thrown from a bridge in Reno, these are all so evocative :)
The way the title leads us in…brilliant!
I want to hear my mother’s hello on the telephone one more time, just five more minutes, please.
I want to write you the storm before the calm.
I want my words to stop scratching at my sternum, but that means I need to write them.
I want the words to come out written
I want to live in a cypress tree, become the wind so I can travel unseen.
I want to dance in the aisles of the grocery store as I put Pop Tarts in the cart because they taste like my childhood.
I want sweet zest of lemon before I get to the bitter rind.
I want to read the patterns of the ocean in my coffee and frolic in the sea foam at high tide.
I want my tears to cleanse this pain so I can be the girl my mother loved.
I want my words to stop scratching…gah, I actually felt that in my body ♥️
"I want the words to come out written" <-- so relatable.
That last line is devastating. So good.
The multi-sensory nature of this poem really got me. The line "become the wind so I can travel unseen" opened a space between realms. Haunting, in a good way. The ideas of tasting childhood and returning to girlhood to be loved again as a child, wow. My eyes dewed up.
Great grief poem, I really feel the pain and longing in it. I love 'I want the words to come out written,' and how it fits expressing grief. Really any kind of strong emotion.
I want to feel safe all the way
through. I want to be lifted, held
by something that wants nothing
from me. I want to spend my days
like a body floating the ocean, arms
spread to the sky, flying on the rise
and fall of my life. I want to tumble
into my next obsession with a raging
fire in my heart and a cool dedication
in my mind. I want to inhale knowledge
and excommunicate fear and feel all
my cells vibrating at the frequency
of creation—glorious, invincible, new.
**[Title?] I humbly request inspiration, insatiable motivation, and hardcore brilliance, in that order please.**
The first sentence does it for me: I want to feel safe all the way through. Damn. I love how it says so much and also leaves so much unsaid.
"Arms spread to the sky" -- the absolute picture of freedom. Take me with you!
A child of Desire, I’ve been wanting
my whole life. Wanted a gorgeous green
candle, an ephemeral turquoise dress,
a pink bear keychain. A pet dolphin and
the cool black shoes and emotions
other than shame and
invisibility
and through-the-wardrobe worlds
and most unrealistic of all, a sister.
Or anyone to have in my room
to giggle and talk after bedtime
like my brothers.
Now, I still want someone to share my room:
a partner before it’s too late for me
to have children. I want to speak five languages
or more. community that doesn’t leave.
to paint. to write. to publish.
a couch.
Most of all, I want the faith,
the discipline, the audacity to hope
until these things materialize. Maybe
that’s the real reason I need Magic
to visit this summer.
Love the details in the opening stanza, especially the gorgeous green candle. And I love how the wanting a sister morphs into a desire for a life partner to have a family with
My Magical Life
An unhurried steamy cup of sunshine, disguised as dark roast.
Body loving stretches,
maybe yoga, maybe qigong.
Letting the day unfold ideas,
nudging me to give them breath.
Maybe images, maybe words.
Getting lost in heart expression,
letting the messy in, giving it a home.
Breaking to bring me back to earth, my eyes closed, facing the sun.
Inhale. Exhale.
My favorite tote and I at the farmers market where communities are connected, abundance is shared, artists and artisans are supported.
I gather dinner.
My love joins me to chop and sauté and sip and smile and talk about the magic of ordinary days birthing an extraordinary life.
A walk on the beach, a bike ride through town, a hike in the woods. Hunting salt, and moss and breezes. Both lifts me up and grounds me.
Snuggled up on the couch
planning our next adventure:
A trip, a dinner with friends, a sleepover with the grands, a holiday with the family, an artist retreat.
But none more meaningful than this moment of fuzzy socks, hot tea, our legs and hearts, entwined. Dreaming.
Let’s dream some more under the covers. Safe. Content. Until tomorrow unfurls it’s passionate wishes, of which I’m happy to oblige.