Bloodroot Ink Poetry

ashes, ashes

2012-02-10T20:04:00.001-08:00

chestnut curls drift
in lazy whorls
strangely
slowly
to the floor
time itself
reluctant
to touch her

but hair will grow
again not knowing
how relentless
is this blade

   clothes torn
   hair shorn
   nothing left
   to cut

reluctant fingers
relax their hold
cold clunk
of steel on counter

   ashes

she turns
from the mirror
seeing nothing
hearing nothing
feeling blessed nothing
near the surface in this moment
but the urgency of ashes

   there must be
   something here
   to burn

~jws
reworked from 2006 version

Linking up to dVerse ~ Poet's Pub Open Link night.

offering

2012-01-11T22:30:00.000-08:00

I hold

the weight

of this day’s

silence

one more

heavy

offering

to place

upon the

altar

of stones

stacked

high

each still

throbbing

with living

heat

of all that

would be

spoken

if not for the

crushing

severity

of this

sacrifice

I have

required

of me

and I struggle to remember

the why of it.

(From the archives, April 4, 2009)

October

2011-10-18T21:01:00.000-07:00

dry leaves
   rattle
rustle
     in the evening
   breeze

each rasping
   sigh
dying
     a whispered
   lullaby

~

joining in Open Link Night at dVerse~Poet's Pub

on the day of the funeral

2011-09-05T18:49:00.000-07:00

a caramel cake for you.
made just the way Granny taught me.

burn the sugar
until you’re sure it’s ruined,
stir the smoking, sputtering liquid
into sweet buttery cream, then
spoon over split layers of
golden cake.

as friends come
to sit with you
in your raw, fresh grief
and to remember,

share with them a cup
of strong hot coffee
and a taste of this,

rich and dark
and sweet.

collecting freckles

2011-08-18T19:36:00.000-07:00

Collecting freckles
at the shore,
wind and spray
play wild in my hair.

I mark miles of sand
with a barefoot rule
to the cooling caress
of ocean foam
and reflect
in the light
of a blazing sun.

I search the horizon...

the sky...

the sea...

until a fresh perspective
finds me.

Unburdened
by this quiet gift,
I am content
to turn toward home.

2009

dark wings

2011-08-07T20:15:00.000-07:00

There is a hole

in my house where

the wasp crawls in

again and again

I spend

countless hours

catching it up

in an empty glass

to let it fly free

in the garden

but it never

fails to

return

even so

I cannot bring

myself to crush

its

glossy

delicate

menace

Linked into Open Link Night at dVerse - Poet's Pub. Go check it out!

opened

2011-07-31T21:15:00.000-07:00

now the dam is broken

after years of tireless service

protecting natural waterways from more

than they should handle

according to someone's estimation.

now the river may run swift again,

may sometimes flood its banks,

and the dead and dry will rise up green

in lush and tameless life.

now the stream may sing once more

its trickle ripple song,

and the forgotten pond may be reborn

a silent, sacred refuge.

but I did not forsee the power

of too much too long held

when finally loosed.

all is uprooted,

overturned,

and churned

in the fury of this flood.

how long until the waters settle?

what will then remain?

some say I must have lost my mind.

I fear I may have found it.

tag-a-long

2011-07-31T19:59:00.000-07:00

there is a cold dark in my chest
where once a fountain poured
forth fire, now a frozen...

wait

this is not my demon!

where'd you come from little fella?

here,

check his tag for a phone number.

(A favorite from the archives.)

negative space

2011-07-28T10:29:00.000-07:00

I keep hidden
deep
beyond the bottom
of my heart,
in a place
that does not exist,
a singular Nothing,
the presence of which
no longer causes grief
or pain.
No sense of loss,
no suffering remain,
at least that you might notice,
but behind every thought,
between each breath,
I am keenly aware
of this hollowness,
this empty space

which is not there.

.

wounded

2011-07-11T21:08:00.000-07:00

dark thread
taut and long
lifted high
knot then snip
press with gauze
again

close to my ear
he speaks in rhythm

the deeper tissue
pull
will take more time
to fully heal
tug

when the outer skin
has closed up nicely
(there will be a scar)
and appears completely
recovered
knot
for some time yet
the deepest part
can easily be torn
snip
reopened
gauze
requiring many months
more
to complete
the cycle of healing

pull

tug

yes
I nod

knot

snip

understanding
too well

~

(Participating in this week's One Shot Poetry Wednesday. Check it out.)

sentinel

2011-07-01T15:39:00.000-07:00

sometimes she walks
along highway 41
walks like she's got no
particular place to be
what once made her strong
now just something heavy

usually she sits
on a bucket or an old
folding chair in the grass
her back straight
chin high
steel shot through
her frizzy hair
and stones in her mouth

but her eyes burn
always watching
just above the horizon
to the east

waiting hard

~

mockingbird

2011-05-14T10:54:00.000-07:00

listen
   to him

so melodic the notes
   so elegant his throat
      as he lifts his head to sing

how eloquent the turning
   of each trill
his range
   his repertoire
      and skill

but the hard
   dark shine
      of his eyes
and the sharpened
   beak
play cold
   counterpoint
      to this beauty

do not be
deceived

unleashed

2011-03-13T09:33:00.000-07:00

there is a sound

that panic makes

when pressed down

   hard

a high-pitched keen

not heard but

   felt

in teeth

and marrow

my grip will soon

or late give way

setting this force

   free

to run its wild

and manic course

until its fury’s

   spent

leaving me

to rock

and blink

amid debris

panting in its

   wake

(Recently reworked from older piece.)

for kramer

2011-02-12T18:30:00.000-08:00

it’s okay, old friend,
if you cannot stand.
let me bring your dinner
closer. let me sit beside you
while you lick the bowl clean. here,
take a little water.

easy now, and I will lift
your fragile frame
from this hard floor
and set you back upon
your bed, your fur
and bones no burden to my arms.
my heart, another matter.

bear with me now before
you sleep. meet my eyes
with yours and let me hold
your head in my hands
for just a moment more.

gently now, I will unfasten
the collar against your throat.
there will be no need of it where you go.

my dear friend of almost 16 years

this

2011-02-09T08:00:00.000-08:00

some poems
you do not write

you wait
hushed
as the soul
strains
its urgent
whisper

this

this

listen
and remember
this

rose bush in winter

2011-01-12T21:19:00.000-08:00

leaves shriveled
    dark and sparse

skeletal mass
    of rattling thorn
    and branch

do not be deceived

it holds deep
    the heat
    and thrum
    of life

for a time

it holds deep

Reunion

2011-01-05T22:10:00.000-08:00

We gave in that day
to laughter
long and delicious,
not at all our usual
smile-then-back-to-business.
No...

We lifted up a rare and
precious music
together surrendering to
simple delight
as the canopy of green spilled
innocence down in
droplets of blessing.

But the walls that had so long shielded my spirit,
built stone by stone of remembered pain,
mortared with shadows and secrets
by long labor of my own hands,
fell away
some way
in this Sharing.

Startled, my smile began to falter…

In that moment,

I saw you

for the first time
in years

and my heart swelled
to sudden pain,
unaccustomed
to the light.

the rabbit's lament

2011-01-04T19:08:00.000-08:00

no more need
   to strain my neck
      looking back
         over my shoulder

no more need
   to run so hard
      to push my heart
         beyond its reach

the pain of piercing talons
almost a relief

pencil-thin line

2011-01-03T18:50:00.000-08:00

I did well today.

   my finger lightly traces

     the ridge above my eye

      perfectly, pleasingly

     absolutely smooth

   as I reflect…

I did not cry today.

I did not yell.

I did not panic under pressure.

Yes, it was a good day altogether.

   my finger lightly traces

      the ridge above my eye

        still warm with the lingering sting

      of far too much attention

   as I wonder…

Will I do as well

tomorrow?

And how much time

might be required

for an eyebrow

to re-grow?

as one

2010-12-18T19:25:00.000-08:00

i know you

   as waves know sand,

       every glittering, tumbling grain,

             each crashing curve of

            salt and blue,

       drawn again

and again

    into the other

         in an ancient

               eternal and

           intimate

     dance.

spider

2010-12-18T19:17:00.000-08:00

silent venom
slowly seeping
as I sleep

scalding fingers
of poison flame
stretch and grasp
beneath my skin

in this dream
I call your name

picked clean

2010-11-10T10:47:00.000-08:00

some poems
are just gristle
and bones

spare and naked
truth
from deep
inside

exposing
a visceral
and terrible
beauty

default

2010-11-10T09:59:00.000-08:00

we are born
hungry

belly and soul

wailing
to be filled

odd couple

2010-11-01T19:59:00.000-07:00

Watching the old man scowl

and stomp away,

I gently asked her,

Why?

A bit of wistful met her crinkled smile.

He just needs a bit of distance.

I think sometimes he's a little afraid of me,

if truth be told.

My forehead creased with questions I could not voice,

but her eyes met my confusion

with sudden shining depth,

pressing in on me

in a rush of calm

and blue.

He is fire, child,

and I am water.

February 2007

after all

2010-10-31T07:41:00.000-07:00

the dead don't always sleep.

no, sometimes we dance

and sing

and laugh

and love.

yes, we love

and we dream our dreams

of tomorrows

that never come.

but what does this mean

or matter to you?

we are dead

after all.

starlight, star bright

2010-10-29T08:01:00.000-07:00

whisper your wishes
   with prayerful lips
kiss each one
   before you sleep

catch them up
   in a crescent moon
and fling them out
   into the deep

(revisiting a childhood nighttime ritual)

super shorts

2010-10-28T11:16:00.000-07:00

holding a poem

in my mouth

i fold the laundry

(my first attempt at a lune)

the lizard with no tail

tells his tale

without a word

he has met the cat

(an old favorite)

yes

time

is short

and

between

is so long

I wait

in the quiet

remembering

the

song

(another from the archives)

we want.

we yearn.

we long
to burn.

and yet

we fear
the fire.

the night before the rain

2010-10-26T10:19:00.000-07:00

the midnight moon

slings wide

its murky-colored bow

among thin clouds

above my head

neck craned back

I gape and blink

in the warm tickles of wind

wondering what dark promise

this full moon bears

the puppy pulls her leash

snuffles in the grass

unconcerned

with heavenly matters

Lost Melody

2010-09-29T10:59:00.000-07:00

I opened my mouth
   to sing
but only a wail
    rang out

a song
   too long held
sours, it seems,
    fermenting
   inevitably
into a scream

touch

2010-09-08T06:01:00.000-07:00

this slender frame
   cannot
      contain me

walls and miles
   do not restrain
      my reaching
             stretching
             out
                 to gently touch
                       your heart

and I never return
unchanged.

once upon a time

2010-09-08T05:55:00.000-07:00

it
is not.

it
never was.

how
then
do I feel
its loss?

September

2010-09-05T19:33:00.000-07:00

there is an urgency
today
in the green
of the trees
behind my house

leaves so seriously
intent
on coloring
the cooling light
as it falls to the ground

as if they know
the nearness
of winter's
silver
silence

anointing

2010-06-10T19:29:00.001-07:00

Wisteria falls

in lavender drops

from its feathery

treetop canopy.

The world stills –

quiet

but for the patter

of fragrant petals

on my upturned face.

crash

2010-03-07T16:23:00.001-08:00

          picking
through

            the
                     pieces

   scattered
                  on the

       floor

shattered
reason

           shimmering

                                   more

                 intriguing
                         than
           before
                          .

unspoken

2010-01-20T09:04:00.001-08:00

Place your fingers here

in the hollow of my throat.

Do you feel the rumble

low and deep?

Hold still,

a moment more.

Can you sense it swelling,

gaining strength and clarity

as it struggles toward the surface?

Soon or late,

it will be born.

You cannot say

you were never warned.

swamp song

2010-01-18T08:08:00.000-08:00

I long for the damp scent
of black, sandy loam
at bayou's edge,

soft patter
of gently lapping water,
murky green and dark,

whispers of breeze
from dragonfly wings.

I long for home.

Dolores

2010-01-13T17:50:00.000-08:00

despair

stains the floor

everywhere

her bare feet

meet the polished wood,

slowly seeping

colorless

toward the walls.

each breath expelled

smells hot

of anguish

aged and ripe.

shards of flashing

sharp and light

slice the air

around her,

entice

with glittering

promise

of pain.

do not be drawn

into her eyes.

do not mistake

that hollow depth

for need.

there is nothing

here

for you.

Fear Not

2010-01-08T09:33:00.000-08:00

Trust me enough
to let me stand to my full height
without reprimand.

Sing with me as I test
the strength and reach of my voice
uncovered,

for I must.

I have long outgrown
this narrow space,
and no choice remains
but to at last become
who I am.

You must have known
this day would come,

or did you think

   these

      wings

         were just for show?

(repost from 2008)

perspective

2009-12-15T22:06:00.000-08:00

when did we
become so small?

how do we fit
into these tiny suits
of self?

surely
we were meant
for greater
reach.

new moon

2009-12-15T10:06:00.000-08:00

to the eye
there is nothing -

the hollow dark
of absence

even so
the mighty oceans
are moved
by its silent
power

old cart photo

2009-11-27T06:51:00.000-08:00

There is a poem here. I just haven't written it yet.

please

2009-11-13T06:56:00.000-08:00

hold me

hard

crush me

against your chest

I care to breathe

much less

than I need

to believe

predawn

2009-10-28T13:03:00.000-07:00

lavender gray
haze
this
morning mist
beckons me

fold me
into your damp
embrace
hide me
for these moments
in the mantle
of obscurity

hold me
hushed

and cool

hurry not
the day
break

burden

2009-10-24T08:42:00.000-07:00

tears sting my eyes
yet refuse to fall
through no fault of my own

this pain

this pain is anchored
heavy and deep

it will not
be washed away

portrait

2009-10-21T09:06:00.000-07:00

eyes wide
with the slightest
tremble
in her hands
she cradles
his venom
as if it were
a gift

a choice to make

2009-10-14T01:37:00.000-07:00

guilt
bares its chest
in the earnestness of
your smile,

forgive me
in every gesture,

and above your lies
your eyes plead
with me
to choose
peace

over

truth.

scattered

2009-10-08T09:42:00.000-07:00

I protect myself
with disarray
and hide behind
this chaos
I've collected.

No one can really reach me.

I have to confess
at times,
I'm hard-pressed
to even find
myself.

unspoken

2009-09-21T09:15:00.000-07:00

I keep hidden

deep

beyond the bottom

of my heart,

in a place

that does not exist,

a singular Nothing,

the presence of which

no longer causes grief

or pain.

No sense of loss,

no suffering remain,

at least that you might notice,

but behind every thought,

between each breath,

I am keenly aware

of this hollowness,

this empty space

which is not there.

once upon a time

2009-09-20T09:12:00.001-07:00

is not.

never was.

how

then

do I feel

its loss?

collecting freckles

2009-09-18T17:29:00.000-07:00

Collecting freckles

at the shore,

wind and spray

play wild in my hair.

I mark miles of sand

with a barefoot rule

to the cooling caress

of ocean foam

and reflect

in the light

of a blazing sun.

I search the horizon...

the sky...

the sea...

until a fresh perspective

finds me.

Unburdened

by this quiet gift,

I am content

to turn toward home.

september

2009-08-27T20:54:00.000-07:00

there is an urgency
today
in the green
of the trees
behind my house,

leaves so seriously
intent
on coloring
the cooling light
as it falls to the ground,

as if they know
the nearness
of winter's
silver
silence.

jws
sept 2006

meteor shower

2009-08-12T20:48:00.000-07:00

alone on my back
between midnight and morning,
I wait and shiver
against the freezing wind.

my eyes fixed on the deep above
through frame of roof and treetop

it begins.

first one…
then three…
seven…
I lose count
they come so quickly

tiny bits of cosmic (more than ancient)
dust on a journey too vast,
for a time too great
to be grasped by the humbled creature
I have suddenly become.

so beautiful the flaring streaks of light.
so elegant their arc and curve.
each blaze a brief and brilliant
death.

not a
molecule
left
intact.

what was
is no more.

and I watch in wonder,
in growing terror
that such a thing should be

so silent.

jws
november 2006

element

2009-08-06T16:48:00.000-07:00

bend low
to catch a drop
of glistening
shimmer
from the blossom

lift it cool
and quivering
to your eye

watch the swirling
dance of color
and light

now listen

.

ashes

2009-08-03T11:18:00.000-07:00

Chestnut curls
drift
in lazy whorls
strangely
slowly
to the floor,
time itself reluctant
to touch her.

But hair will grow
again not knowing
how relentless
is this blade.

clothes torn
hair shorn
nothing left
to cut?

(reluctant fingers
relax their hold – cold
clunk of steel on counter)

I need now
only ashes.

She turns away
from the mirror,
seeing nothing,
hearing nothing,
feeling blessed nothing
near the surface in this moment,
thinking only of the ashes...

must be something here
to burn...

12-08-2006
jws

upon the purchase of a new sketchbook

2009-08-03T11:03:00.000-07:00

I wish to learn
the language of lines,

to sing
in effortless arcs
and sweeps.
to whisper soft
in shades and strokes,

to speak spirit
with movement,
to feed it
with friction,
with pressure
and lifting.

Then I might say
what cannot be
spoken.

rival

2009-04-27T07:58:00.001-07:00

I held an enemy
once.

She sobbed
in my awkward
embrace

begging absolution
for what she would not
change.

Her tears fell hot
against the cool
of my cheek

and for a moment
I tried.

soon or late

2009-04-24T07:05:00.000-07:00

there is a sound
that panic makes
when pressed down hard

a high-pitched keen
not heard, per se
but felt in teeth
and marrow

but my grip will soon
or late give way
the force set free
to run its wild
and manic course
until its fury’s spent

then I will rock
and blink
amid debris
panting in its wake

why?

2009-04-02T14:33:00.000-07:00

I was born with a question mark
on my forehead.
Though this attracted
no small attention
initially,
my constant queries soon
became wearisome to all
around me.
So I learned to speak with grace
and quiet.

But you must forgive me.

Some questions
need be shouted
and refuse to remain
unasked.

Hoover Dam

2009-03-29T08:07:00.001-07:00

Hands chest-high on concrete
I lean over and out
and the bottom of my soul
swings open...

tumbling untethered
in the eternal grace between
beyond the time of place
in joyous song
a swirling dance
unbound
unfolded
exquisitely undone...

I push back hard with trembling breath.
Afraid of falling, he says with gentle knowing.

I blink at tears of longing
and say nothing.

The King and I

2009-03-15T21:24:00.000-07:00

In motel breezeway buzzing light
in the cooling air of descending night
I was stopped just short of the ice machine
by the glistening black of the apparent king
of every earthly cockroach.

He faced me square,
the hint of a dare
in the tilt of his tiny head –
his body raised.
Antennea waved
as if curious I had not fled.

Thus we stood for two beats or three
Till I realized what was required of me.
I bowed my head briefly,
begging his pardon
and asking his leave to pass through.
With a curt nod, he turned
to march away…

I laughed
and lifted my shoe.

backyard

2009-02-18T11:33:00.000-08:00

her fingers
hang from the fence
pushing and pulling
as they watch the clouds
and talk of wings

his fist
squeezing through
opens up to share a gift
fluffy white seeds
of dandelion
waiting only
to fly

kneeling in the tall grass
one on either side
they clutch the tiny wishes
and whisper through the wire

on a good day

2009-02-17T20:31:00.000-08:00

I like to walk out

barefoot

to the ragged edge of my sanity

and hang my toes over the crumbling

lip of reason.

Hair whipping wild about my head
in the sweet-sour updraft
from the deep beyond me,

I raise my arms and shout

daring the wind

to show some muscle.

a darker set of wings

2009-02-11T11:30:00.000-08:00

There is a hole
in my house where
the wasp crawls in
again and again

I spend
countless hours
catching it up
in an empty glass
to let it fly free
in the garden
but it never
fails to
return

even so
I cannot bring
myself to crush
its

glossy

delicate

menace
.

meteor shower

2009-02-03T10:17:00.000-08:00

alone on my back
between midnight and morning,
I wait and shiver
against freezing fingers of wind
slipping up between boards of the deck.

my eyes fixed on the deep above
through frame of roof and treetop

it begins.

first one…
then three…
seven…
I lose count
they come so quickly

tiny bits of cosmic (more than ancient)
dust on a journey too vast,
for a time too great
to be grasped by the humbled creature
I have suddenly become.

so beautiful the flaring streaks of light.
so elegant their arc and curve.
each blaze a brief and brilliant
death.

not a
molecule
left
intact.

what was
is no more.

and I watch in wonder,
in growing terror
that such a thing should be
so silent.

i swallowed it

2009-02-01T13:02:00.000-08:00

Small dark sliver
of glossy black
pulled from a crack
in the sidewalk

Strange, it seemed
a living liquid thing
in my hand,
silently singing
its siren song,
too lovely
to ignore.

A swift slip
down my throat
and the heat of it
settled and spread
in my belly,
filling me up
with a hollow
need.

From ache to pain
this gnawing swells
so quickly I can
hardly breathe,

and I try to quell
the panic as I cannot
help but wonder
just exactly

what

might satisfy
this hunger.

collecting freckles

2009-01-24T09:20:00.000-08:00

Collecting freckles
at the shore,
wind and spray
play wild in my hair.

I mark miles of sand
with a barefoot rule
to the cooling caress
of ocean foam
and reflect
in the light
of a blazing sun.

I search the horizon...
the sky...
the sea...
until a fresh perspective
finds me.

Unburdened
by this quiet gift,
I am content
to turn toward home.

traveler

2008-12-18T22:00:00.000-08:00

there was a traveler
who wrapped his swollen heart
in an old rag and set it down
beside the road.
he stood a moment and looked
upon this sodden bundle in the dirt,
both relief and regret
in his posture.

he then resumed his journey
and with a noticeably lighter step,
though he could no longer call to mind
his destination.

waking

2008-12-17T08:53:00.000-08:00

in dream
with crushing weight of vision
she stood
knife in hand
before a towering wall of flesh
she knew to be her heart

every part of it carved
in weeping red
desperate letters
blazing bleeding welts
pleading pain
and blood
in urgent warning

resolve stilled the corners
of her quivering mouth
as understanding
settled

waking
shaking sleep
struggling to breathe
against the gravity of the dream
still heavy in her chest
she wonders at such a gift
of clarity and wisdom

but a sudden cold
clench of despair
brings hot tears
and a breathless cry
dies in her throat

she cannot recall
a single word

this I know

2008-12-03T06:38:00.000-08:00

despite the facts
or lack thereof,

the
deeper
Truth

reveals
itself

to an open heart
when sought

and
sometimes

when
not.

after all

2008-12-02T13:09:00.000-08:00

the dead don’t always sleep.

no, sometimes we dance
and sing
and laugh
and love.

yes, we love
and we dream our dreams
of tomorrows
that never come.

but what does this mean
or matter to you?

we are dead

after all.

Fear Not

2008-10-30T22:05:00.000-07:00

Trust me enough
to let me stand to my full height
without reprimand.

Sing with me as I test
the strength and reach of my voice
uncovered,

for I must.

I have long outgrown the tiny space
marked out for myself so many years ago,
and no choice remains
but to at last become
who I am.

You must have known
this day would come,

or did you think

these

wings

were just for show?

unencumbered

2008-10-30T09:26:00.000-07:00

pare away the unnecessary
the self-serving elements
pull off all want and need
neither requirements
nor conditions
may remain

love unencumbered
will meet no
boundary
on its way
and this
must
find
its mark

till the very last

2008-10-25T15:41:00.001-07:00

I can no longer firmly fix
your face
after so much time,
without a photograph,

but diving deeper into memory
I can still breathe in your singular scent,
feel the exact measure of your arms,
the precise pressure and shape
of your embrace,
and rest
against the muffled thunder
of your heartbeat…

…you are here
and I draw deep of your
generous strength.

If memory must erode with time,
then let my sight go first.

This…I would keep
till the very last.

On the Day of the Funeral

2008-10-25T15:35:00.001-07:00

Riversong

2008-10-25T15:31:00.000-07:00

I carry my burden
to the river's edge
and kneeling, pour my sorrows
into its rippling murk.
The flashing waters swallow
my offering whole -
no hint of hesitation,
no judgement for my failings.

I rise, raw and clean,
and watch the rolling muddy green
bear away my shame
in its rush to the sea.
A warm and tender breeze
caresses my face,
dries my tears,
and I hear...

The river sings
its ancient song
of life and death
and hope,
of every season,
of every sunrise,
of every passing storm...

Still,
I stand
and listen long
to the soft and intricate
harmonies...

The river sings
its ancient song...

and
deep
I drink.