Tag Archives: Poem

Blue Moon

Grandmother Crane had promised open doors,
Eyes wise and blue.
Yet I could not read the sky,

Clouds too heavy laid thick on my ribs.
Weeds twisting Hydra throughout the spaces.
My lungs squeezed tight until the roaring sound released,
Ice air at my feet on the edge of a precipice.

Following the constellation of my footsteps,
The Lynx calmly talked me down,
Exchanging tiredly turbulent waters
For winding roads of conversation on maroon couches.
Daylight dimming.
I had to open my hands again, he said.
The Full Moon should soon be rising.

Night fell,
A patch of sandy light appeared in the window.
The Lynx opened the door and nodded his head,
Eyes steady;
“Lion courage.”
Through shaking aspen skies I stepped, 

Straight into the eyes of Orion.

Shooting stars,
The archer’s hand took hold of mine.

Foggy horizon, 

Sparkling nerves.
Can we go outside and talk? 

And so followed the bowman sheathing his arrows.

On the deck of the treehouse,
We leaned over the railing before each other.
Wordlessness thrown into poorly shaped pots,

Branching out and tripping over the twigs.
Sometimes truth is choked out with fire.

Finally the midnight sun rose,
The night growing ever brighter.
“It’s been two Blue Moons since,”
Orion said.
He smelled like wild Redwood.
Surrounded by the nebula,
I found that we fit.

Summertime in the Orion Nebula

// I was trying to make it look like there were stars at my feet.
Something in the way that I walked.
But I’m not perfect.
Are you?
Probably not.
But then there’s that dryad look in your eye.

I started out saying Hell no, but the letters got tangled despite myself.
That wasn’t one of the knots I learned last week.
Bowline on a Bight —
I’ve learned to be pleased with my calloused hands, but I’ve held so much.
And this mess in my stomach seems to twist and tighten, having been there in the first place.

Bulletproof vest?
Useless when the weapon changes.
The redwoods stand tall like a quiver of arrows, piercing clean through my cage.
When the trees woke up to dance with the wind —
There, wordless sounds whispered my real name.
The song rushed around in the branches, calling me to breathe in.

So I stood in a wild stillness.
Watched the full moon rage quietly in its mercury reflection on the black sea water —
Shining on new faces, new phases.
And then the constellations become clearest on the darkest nights.
Dear God.
You’ve piqued my curiosity. //

Elliptical Cave

I saw the sun and now I see
This is a cave
These are the images on the wall
Shadows to shadows 
This is a cave, is this 
A cage
As well

I saw the sun and now I see
This is a veil
These hands ache to tear 
Shred to shred
This is a veil, may this
Be ringing 
My ears are bleeding
As well

I saw the sun and now I see
This beauty and hope 
Shrink away and fade
Shiver to shiver
These finely cut things, such 
Sharp glass to grasp
In my hands 

I saw the sun and now I scream
At the top of 
These lungs blue with ice
Shallows to shallows 
At the top of, where I freeze
And so 
Not audible
As well

I saw the sun and now I see
This is Who am I 
These are the Chorus
Shouting to shouting
This is Who am I, to deserve
Their voices for me as I
I could sing
As well 


קֹדֶשׁ Qodesh, an exploratory definition of the Sacred

vulnerable    uninvited    unaware    surprised    unprepared    strange
it was a moment, brief –
briefly –
a second, split second
a saintly time    a split sanctification
one moment of awareness
; this one time
once I saw everything    you came uninvited    you surprised me
I remember this    where I see everything
hear    heard    I heard you    I can hear you
found    you found me
for once not afraid    not afraid
(and) strangely calm    calm    it was so peaceful
my answer
your answer
my answer, your answer
Eben ha-`ezer
a shooting star    (out of) those calm stars
distinct    how distinct
apparent    appearance
apparent, appearance
secret bridge    secret garden    secret waterfall
time left    time dispersed
dwelled    I dwelled    we dwelled
safely exposed
beneath it all
only you and I know     only we know
escape    escaped    I escaped    we escaped
, our defense
my shelter    quickly, shelter    brief shelter
in this place
the only moment we were alone    a moment of silence    for once silence
take a breath    when I breathed    I could breathe    I can breathe
we were breathing    we breathed    one breath
inhale    inhale, exhale //
this moment    that one moment
when we were alone    a breath alone    my lungs work
: I am oxygen    I am air
I am the rush    (I am) the flood
flooding    everything flooding
— you see?
I see everything, I see nothing    I hear everything, I hear nothing
I feel everything, I feel nothing
(for) I am timeless

We are Capable of Cancer

Needles against my skin.
I’ll never be silk again.
Hurricanes and explosions, that is how you pump.
I can’t hear my heart, can you feel my chaos?
Can you feel, my chaos?
The -
Blood transfusion is soiled.
And your beat is a black plague.
She asked, Can you stitch me up, darling?
I can’t hear my heart.
Can you stitch me up?
Sutures sunder wide, he severs
Beneath this sound, the

***a collaboration with my friend and fellow writer Jace Darcangelo, influenced by Dr. Glancy’s Advanced Creative Writing class and The Chariot (of course)


When I worked for my father at his office,
I noticed his shorthand for “Change” was a triangle. 
“△ Michelle’s salary to __”

When you brought me a necklace made of leather string
Tied through a single sliver of deer antler
with a triangle cut out in the center–

I knew there would be no northern lights
Or flowers for me to hang from the ceiling–
Your shorthand by drill bit was clear.  

…the Remaining Engagement with φιλια (cont.)

Chapter II. ευδαιμονια

And I speak of this φιλια, that is my sacrament. What I hope to become, to engage, to embrace; inextricably We. Not only regard, but hold out my hands aware with faithfulness, empathy. Keeper of virtue so that between You and I comes We. That I would speak, write letters out of my head, call out of my shell, and make my bed there under the sky. Doors wide, arms unfolded, ears open. So we shall sit in hours of bright, in hours of dark; in watery eyes, in full, in empty. Carrying our bones. Together, in stasis, in motion; to Pass That, whatever it is. To reject Reciprocity, aim for such καλοσ. This is true Justice, my δικη. And so maybe I can speak of this φιλια, my sacrament. And perhaps I can speak of this φιλια, my ευδαιμονια.


ευδαιμονιαThe flourishing life
καλοσ–Pleasing beauty


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