Showing posts with label Poetry. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Poetry. Show all posts

Wednesday, September 28, 2022


Every morning as I wake
swimming with dreams
wrestling with the dark

our world is ready to stack
before me, crisp towers
of lists and leftovers 

from the night behind me
and so I enter the strange 
thing that is the day 

like an all-you-can-eat buffet 
the return of my appetite 
some bright miracle

Pic: MSU's spirit rock in honor of the Iranian women's protests. The highschoolers walking out over Virginia governor Youngkin's anti-trans policies, a lunch-time walk-and-talk with AK, my capstone students brilliantly knitting news with readings... I am grateful for decency and beauty showing up in this world.

Saturday, September 24, 2022

yesterday's sunshine

yesterday's sunshine listens to me
guessing at laughter or at grief
yes, the kids are playing again
but no, they've not forgotten

yesterday's sunshine reminds me
I should live wildly--as if I can
erase distance, ease today's rain
warns me beacon-like: enjoy

Sunday, September 18, 2022

how do you know

how do you know
the sudden bunny in the trees
a streak of white tail a trail
ringing in the heart 

how do you know
the storm hovering overhead
brooding here, eager to grab
cobwebs and hope

how do you know
the scream waiting in readiness 
to jump out of the darkness
that is my throat 

I don't know 
I wait to reckon with these knots 
with silent prayers to calm
the angry seas inside 

Pic: Nu and At taking off for a walk-and-talk post dinner. Things did not go as I'd hoped. 

Saturday, September 17, 2022

time begins to hurt when

the leaf's green and the river's green 
hesitate on unripeness 
but I am sun-warmed and life-bound 
and have to try it

for you are taller than I can remember
stronger than you know
yet here I am trying to keep the monster
hidden... and quiet

O hush little baby, let's flee this moment 
in its blossoming bruises
for my mind is still trapped underwater
and cannot anchor it 

 Pic: Red Cedar, earlier this week. (I needed a reminder of calm after some particularly horrible hours this morning. I'm thankful for Big A being there and community help.)

Monday, September 12, 2022

coming in

my eyes are insistent
yearn to find amends
rivers wake unaware
these roads catch fire

for ever there is light 

I unfasten the heavy
I catch myself happy
a song between sighs
what is day, if not this

Pic: Sunrise over the Maple River. I get to work so early these days!

Saturday, September 10, 2022

overheard, over here

today I bring nothing but words
they're probably in the wrong order

but let's wander in adventure soon
although I'm too obstinate for miracles

as we walk together, try not to notice 
I brought my books though they fall apart 

if you believe in madness and darkness
be ready to see the stars twinkling through

Friday, September 09, 2022

up next

fog like whiteness giving over to nothing
only scarves and neckties are flowering
I play a matchbox and then a jukebox
sitting here quietly with my knife

I cut a path of spirals through smiles
of my own motherhood brimming
only to hide under frosty glares
as though the sky is burning 

isn't it strange how we define words
with more words and... gesturing
how even the ruins of a day
can be filled with people
Note: KB talked to KO and I got a long, kind, and helpful walk-and-talk about options (with KO). Cannot describe how it feels to be understood and validated.

Thursday, September 08, 2022


now gone the silver hair
in the dusk to dust 

the theft and the torment 
how they abide

amazing--go ahead, ask
about our dead

while symptoms, suffering
in the event hide

all we lost and never found 
rippling under water


Wednesday, September 07, 2022


from under the belly of the bridge
I arrive like wonder 
like a wound

flickering like prayer or heartbeat 
remembered, returned,
and restitute

surely, it must be true that others
too, climbed language like
a promised land

Tuesday, September 06, 2022

when the city pulls back

quiet days have their own story
happy or not, peace or loss
a small warm animal 

both presence and invisibility 
to bark--now what--free yet
there should you want
a snuggle

Pic: Red Cedar River

Saturday, August 27, 2022


a sunflower bee buffet--its energy
as if today's withdrawn into destiny
exists just to accumulate satisfaction

birds find in flinging into air
they freshly configure the familiar
into an avowal of joy and experience 

I note the proximity of strangers
--companion stars surging again 
in windows left longing for dawn

Tuesday, August 16, 2022

only connect

so open that door 
or open this book
I open my mouth 
wait for an answer 
                           ...answer always already  
                           the knocking of my heart
                            promises folding around  
                             surrounding me like love
                                                      you, for I love you 
                                                                 and I know how I love you
                                                               every one of you, I know you
                                                               can remind me of no one else 

Pic: Picnic at KV's... so many generations of women and children. I appreciated this lovely summer afternoon with Nu: destressing, snacking, reconnecting, and cuddling babies. (It was especially welcome after an all-morning, in-person meeting for our departmental re-visioning.)

Wednesday, August 10, 2022

wild as me

night sticks in my throat
growling, waits to see 
what we pounce on next

life slips by in a canopy 
of breath, exhaling time
...scattering new stories

I stay only to praise this:
asking for my memories
speaking soft mysteries

for questions that arrive
expectant and curving, 
 muscular as a horizon 

Pic: Wildflower patch, MSU

Saturday, August 06, 2022


some nights still ignite memory
for surely, the before times have now ended 

these are the final days of now
we'll yet, plot a way forward at lines's end

to hearts that can highlight us
even if, the burning map descends over us

I can turn my back to the bullets
my friends, like a coward or a rebel or a child

Monday, August 01, 2022

we won't talk (about)

no one called out but I looked again
tree light pouring through me

where I once felt nothing but abyss
I hear love spread like a gasp 

tonight I may fall for rumors and loss
for I will never stop migrating 

ask me how I can show up alone again
jumping from caesura to synapse

Pic: Baker Woods with L and Nu.

Note: Last week's cousin trip didn't happen because someone tested positive for Covid; this week's SD visit might not happen because someone else tested positive for Covid... I am so tired of this pandemic and missing people I really want to see.

Sunday, July 31, 2022

something else

I know I don't need this 
poem at the end of the day
go ahead, tell me, I'll listen

frown/yawn/warn at this 
sorry summary of the day 
go ahead, tell me, I'll listen

say I should forget all this 
as I look away... every day
go ahead, tell me, I'll listen

hush-shout me, for you have
a wounded song of your own
go ahead... tell me... I'll listen

Pic: Fiesta Monarca at Casa de Rosada. Nu and his friends are on sitting on the grass f a r a w a y from the dancers.

Thursday, July 28, 2022

the telling

everyone loves stories, we know
no one can be lonely with them
for their arms stretch both ways
to hold you in: openings endings 

their hands can pinch together
the holy ghostly glory of time
so by the time you step back  
blue skies are pink-purple-red

& evening is squeezy as a bosom 
roomy for whatever comes next
if sun: to show our fiery hearts
if rain: to share forgotten tears

Pic: Bee on thistle; English Garden @MSU.

Monday, July 18, 2022

one child

one child says their name is nothing
one child says they love you not
one child says they love you 
but not themselves

one child has put themselves to bed
one child refuses to go to sleep
one child just can't stand it
can never rest enough

one child lies without thinking twice
one child tells only horrific truths
one child will read nothing 
says everything is dumb 

one child is too large for this house
one child is tiny enough to vanish
one child doesn't want to know 
there's only one... child...

Pic: Red Cedar River, mental health walk by myself. 

Sunday, July 17, 2022

A Warning

day opens 
its jaws
like danger

it is considered natural here
to be golden in the moment 
then vanish and be replaced
for all you know is bravery
when you have no memory

of the sky
the hawk 
in the sky
where the
others went

Pic and notes: Koi at MSU Radiology Gardens. They're always so tiny because the bigger ones are snatched by hawks (and then replaced by staff). 

Wednesday, July 13, 2022

Like there is no time

The Uber has already been called
It's nearly the end of the night
of the first day of a hurried wedding
It's after the cousins have finished 
with their choreographed dances
after the henna has dried on my hands
My aunt, the brides' mother, comes up
to her sisters and sisters-in-law
Let's get on the dance floor
she says, It's our time now
The aunt who is giving me a ride back  
says: but I already called the Uber
the app says it's just five minutes away
Then let's go, let's go, let's go 
the bride's mother says
gesturing to the dance floor
looking like she's already dancing
we have no time to lose
we can't waste a single minute, she says 
but she seems also, so far away
It's the same far away look she has 
at the reception the next day
until the bride and groom 
that a baby is coming soon
and everyone is ooh-ing and crying
even more than usual
because--you know--we know
and when I finally get to congratulate 
my uncle and my aunt
My aunt who's made no mention 
of what we all know all weekend long
finally breaks. Gripping my uncle's hand 
in a way both hard and tender, she says--
I just hope he gets to see the baby
she says, as if there is no time

all set to start

 Navaratri celebrations tonight! "Take homes" (snack boxes and gift bags) and our miniature magic forest "Golu" are read...