We arrived as the tide was turning, her shoreline
retreating like a mother who never once forgot
she was a woman first and foremost always. I went down
to her edge surely just to my ankles but she beckoned,
lapping my legs with foam, clapping her bawdy castanets
and breaking on sand bars ever just beyond… Continue reading…
Hot & Steamy Monday Momma came by for a visit yesterday. This morning her post was on my desk with a note: “Dahlin’, kindly post this on your blog for your lovely people.”
Greetings!
When I arrived in Boston yesterday morning I heard Heidi saying that if only Someone with a big S, or someone with a little s, or… Continue reading…
I’ve said it one too many times now for me not to notice: that if they are right about there being lifetimes and about coming back and all that, that I want to come back as certain people’s backup singer.
Like for Madonna, for example. It was a long time ago I said that, but I did.
And then there… Continue reading…
You know how people might say something for some kind of forever and you just don’t hear it?
Maybe at some point you begin suspecting just how much you aren’t hearing. You get curious, and with that comes the teensiest opening to the possibility that there is a vast world of things you’ve closed yourself off to.
And then seemingly… Continue reading…
April is National Poetry Month. This one’s been brewing for months. It’s getting there.
Merchants of luxury trade in securities
back and forth and up and down the walled
streets of restless minds, selling lies
of commission, omission, and so-called re-
mission to save us from what
we never asked for saving… Continue reading…
I got myself an itty bitty mortar ‘n’ pestle,
a present for the hard stuff
to get to the sweet stuff inside
things like a vanilla bean
and a cardamom pod
and a restless, tired mind,
which I crushed and added to a sexy Bosc pear
sauteing it all on low flame
… Continue reading…
Yesterday’s wind, it took things with it,
The leaves, for one.
Another month, for two.
For three, some threadbare fantasies.
But it left a near-full moon
and rolled out a red carpet
to where I do not know.
(1 Nov. 2009)
Too much info not enough ear.
Too much bony not enough rear.
Too much quiet not enough shout.
Not enough action too much doubt.
Too much air and not enough ground.
Too much square not enough round.
Too much look and not enough find.
Not enough body too much mind.
Too much chair and not enough… Continue reading…
The paring knife of life keeps peeling. In restlessness, in exasperation, on the edge of the precipice when it all feels too much, I keep coming to:
It is a question both clean and powerful. It moves around the immovable, leaving bullshit in its wake.
Sitting in that question is sitting in kindness. Which isn’t necessarily… Continue reading…
To have and to hold are, to be sure, quite different from
to hope and to dream, which are also, to be sure, away —
maybe somewhere with you but away nonetheless,
which is where I sense you, on your own.
I would not bind you to me (if even I could),
nor force anything ahead… Continue reading…
Receive the blog by email
Subscribe in a reader
Pass notes with me on Twitter
Join aardvark on Facebook
