Category Archives: hair

breakfast love

NaPoWriMo 2021 Button with white background
NaPoWriMo 2021 Button with black background

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like a river i hold close in my arms, my body

your run through me — a quiver

of arrows and slings stroke my limbs, my mind

like stars plucked for your eyes to startle me

a name stammered and chimed — a sound

surrounds — a kind of grace escapes

.

i’ve lain down in moonlit thoughts of you

awoke to the sun of your skin and fingers

taunting the morning with stolen scents —

of your breath as breakfast, love

of murmurs of bees stirring my hair

a dapple of flowers gathering

over a slither of summer heather

over darkened hills, a moan, a chill

a gasp of lemon-dazzle glints blackening

the shiny stones of you blinding

me to other

worlds

other landscapes

other loves

drowned out

.

this is my sorrow, my secret, my dove

the rain in my mouth announces it

no other

hears it

as happiness

swallows

.

not a haiku

.

NapoWriMo day 10 :- write a love poem

https://www.napowrimo.net

how cool is this!

hiya!!!

NaPoWriMo day 4

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up to my feet

higher than ever

ever was

my knees awash with blush

blue as the sun

come to kiss

incessantly

.

unpredictable dangle, my hips

swung undone, clicking in places, ungripped

angles untongued, unhorizoned, unzipped

come to pass

over

and over

caress

where i was

.

heels over head

like a wheel

bums up, pants down

what a feeling!

i’m not burning. i promise

i’m adonis!

.

warming my jets

upended by toes

detached from all that ever

ever was

i’m not falling. i promise

i’m gaia! i’m higher

.

i’m fearless, trawling stars

a mess, a tangle of hair, a thicket of air

sketching nothing nothing that

ever was

.

i’m not flying. i’m goddess

i promise. look !

no hands! no stands!

imagine this!

.

nb

Adonis : God of beauty, fertility , permanent renewal. Greek mythology.

Gaia: Personification of the Earth. Greek mythology.

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NaPoWriMo

https://www.napowrimo.net/

In honor of the always-becoming nature of poetry, I challenge you today to select a photograph from the perpetually disconcerting @SpaceLiminalBot, and write a poem inspired by one of these odd, in-transition spaces. Will you pick the empty mall food court? The vending machine near the back entrance to the high school gym? The swimming pool at what seems to be M.C. Escher’s alpine retreat? No matter what neglected or eerie space you choose, I hope its oddness tugs at the place in your mind and heart where poems are made.

over 50 wisdoms ( or finding crow’s feet )

i see

varicose veins,

wrinkles,

gray hairs,

sagging skins

as celebrations

.

haiku

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Ps. I am the Crow, finding my feet. Finding my wings. In wonder of the wisdom that comes with acceptance of age as a cloak of honor; of having come through many fires, blackened, but not burnt. I am the fire. And the water.

Don’t be afraid of me. Come on in. And have a cup of tea!