all saints hearts saint----
heart, the pillow briar i sleep
with every nite this year,
a finger in my thimble,
thumbs in ears
for the muffled voice of my love
the bitter tongues of madness:
talk i cannot bear to hear.
this marriage makes me witness.
i am cowardly. i am a coward.
cover me, cover me briar!
if my eyes bleed i cannot be blamed.
hold the bare October trees
push head into the ink spot evening
let the air make me cold
where cold freezes flame:
let my whisper be sane.
the prayer of non believer
the rosary beads round my neck
each round and swollen with your name.
this chill surrounds my breath.
i am alone in this forest hunt.
the family is scattered and scarred
a nest of tree stumps:
i run my hands over each wound
press my lips to the worst of the cost.
the sky tesseracts over me:
all is not lost.
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"What would happen if one woman told the truth about her life? The world would split open " M.R.
she's precocious / and she knows just what it takes / to make the pros blush
The Mr. & Mrs.
what i thought love was is so much less than what it is
Our Pack: Dakota Wolf, Lola Moon, Ian Oliver and our baby, Ever Elizabeth
Someone may have stolen your dream when it was young and fresh and you were innocent. Anger is natural. Grief is appropriate. Healing is mandatory. Restoration is possible. -Jane Rubietta
you can stand under my umbrella
the light is on for you
My dear child, who can tell? One can only tell that, by remembering something which happened where we lived before; and as we remember nothing, we know nothing about it; and no book, and no man, can ever tell us certainly.
Some couples don’t ask much of one another after they’ve worked out the fundamentals of jobs and children. Some live separate intellectual and cultural lives, and survive, but the most intense, most fulfilling marriages need, I think, to struggle toward some kind of ideological convergence. Norman Rush
Pray For Kate McRae
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I Believe In Nationwide Health Care
E Pluribus Unum ( Out of Many, One )
"I pay no attention whatever to anybody's praise or blame. I simply follow my own feelings." - Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart
gorgeous and brutal and gorgeous.
Striking imagery from a haunting voice, Maggie May. The 'nest of tree stumps', the rosary beads 'each round and swollen with your name' stay with me after the reading and the rereadings. I hope that today, and everyday, the chorus of voices from your blog friends and followers will help still those 'bitter tongues of madness'.
wow...
we all are witnesses of some kind of madness.
i love your words!!
non-believer... you don´t read the believer mag? hehe.
no, seriously, i think my eyes bleed too when i read poems like this...
let my whisper be sane.-- oh!
i love you!!!
yolanda
"i am alone in this forest hunt.
the family is scattered and scarred
a nest of tree stumps:
i run my hands over each wound
press my lips to the worst of the cost.
the sky tesseracts over me:
all is not lost."
You have the ability to describe emotion with powerful imagery. I love the whole poem, but as a poem, especially the closing stanzas, and the synthesis of the imagery throughout, and the symbolism of the rosary of the nonbeliever, and every bead your name. As for meaning, a family scattered and scarred, isolated, cut to adjacent tree stumps, and the poem ending on the hope, as you touch the wounds and kiss the scars- gives me hope, too. I love all of your poems. This one is among your very best.
Another testament to the power of your poetry. I am undone (again, newly, afresh). You weld words beautifully!
thank you everyone for reading. it means so much to me, each response and each observation. thank you.
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