Bound

Bound, and squirming, in the binds

of our own stories.

Brain picks them up, gut tightens and writhes,

unceasing but for moments:

Drop it.

None of this is true.

You are not this.

But the ego likes its house.

Even if the water’s shut off, rafters tilt,

light obscures through unwashed panes.

Repetition of story

and the prison story makes.

Comfortable? No. Familiar? Yes.

Dismantle the house, it is not you.

Brain picks up the story

and You put it back down.

Over, and over, and over, and

over.

Beyond the wire

There’s a coyote

who prances for prey, alone,

bushy tail and quick jaws,

out by the downed orchard ladder,

knows

each morning,

to amble by, crosswise, unhooked fence

to closed.

I don’t know where he wanders but

his visits thread the world,

animal to animal,

and my mind follows full marled fur

beyond the wire and through the long field

of thin-armed oaks.

The next meal is plenty to concentrate on

with wide openness,

allure, risk, and slow lichen growing,

a bounty of waiting.

Hour upon hour

Clumps of feather snow drifted heavily down

hour upon hour

and the whole of the visible world softened in white.

A surprise storm cupped the riverland,

suspending life in sweet and requisite slowness.

By late afternoon,

a collective inhale–wind change

and the vanished birds flocked in,

lilting through air, hopping

branch to earth and

back again,

their celebrations begun.

Gave way

Frozen beads drop on fallen snow,

an unusual morning music.

Overnight, the roof of the shed

gave way,

resting now on domed forehead of the horno.

Deer turn to stare at my presence.

Ponderosas, no longer white,

burn their reserved green.

Today’s another passing without any humans,

I continue listening.

Mettle

Withstand the Void.

Please.

Be upon your own two small feet,

at the edge,

darkness cloud-forming,

ledge a tipping perch.

Night ocean crashes on rock straight below,

the rhythmic waters moon-guided, rich and dangerous.

Call forth in echoless open and

wait,

the wind will snap and take it up.

Let the Void offer

all your fears, inadequacies, foolishness,

rage, grief, shame and sorrows.

Be with them.

Sense their intolerable

movements in your one body–

these are the monsters

you are to marry.

In union, living through and beyond

your exiled, an invitation

to what Beauty is yours deeply,

the gift to be offered back.

Leave no aspect behind–

you are here to love the denied.

Blood needs circulate.

Bones need grow. Air must enter.

Bring the outcasts and castaways under

warmth of your grand cloak.

Allow them refuge of your beating heart.

Welcome the unwanted,

a feast-filled table is set to feed everything

in dawn of this new year.

Holy rage

I see her, red hair aflame,

paint flying.

Swaths of blackest black,

gashes of scarlet–

blood, bone, ash, scorch,

ochre of marrow.

Enough words, make image.

Shock the system with truth,

Pandora’s box wide,

coffins nesting

and thrown open, skulls screaming out,

souls of generation upon generation of women:

This will not stand.

This will not stand.

No!

This is no poem

I’m puzzled by where we find ourselves,

puzzled, grieving, sickened.

When did hate root itself in our choices?

And divisiveness and defensiveness,

offendedness, opinion and othering,

fragile egos and rigidity,

become the stuff of a collective north star?

This illness snakes through my own family–

microcosm macrocosm–

its source generations back, before mental memory.

Remaining in body.

Remains,

a cemetery, until recognized,

named.

In this moment, and they do keep changing,

rearranging,

I see us collectively entranced

staring, a shadow Narcissus, into the dark side

of a mesmerizing mirror image

in polluted waters.

What are we watching? Reading?

Ingesting, binging, consuming online,

in media and from around us?

Which likes? Which feeds?

What groups, cohorts?

And who actually pulls the invisible strings behind?

Where’s the money go by addiction

to corporate feed?

We’re being factory farmed.

We are stuck until we can each awaken

to the worst in ourselves,

seeing there is no other, no

out there,

no them.

It is we. This is our sickness.

Which seeds will we water in ourselves?

In one another?

Hate?

Or love?

Pick up the phone,

talk with a friend, remember

sound of voice, warmth of body,

land holding us up,

and that breath

is finite.

Today, a darkness

Today, a darkness.

I turn on lights though they’re unneeded.

I pull up blankets though it’s hardly cold.

My mind moves out in dips and turns,

nothing compared to the torrents in the wider world.

No sense to be made, these waters wash over me.

Now, this is how it is.

Burgundy overstuffed chair

Sitting in a burgundy overstuffed chair

in the children’s library,

one of the most joyous places to be,

with an oval blue rug edged with smiling kids,

their woven images holding hands, underfoot,

a mom begins reading a story aloud.

A green spotted carved dragon listens in,

and the enormous bear and giraffe,

they lean closer from high,

cappuccino-colored corners.

I thank the world for libraries,

for books, for people behind counters who say,

Yes.

Once again, having no house key on my ring,

I breathe in while I still can,

knowing all this will continue on

without me.