a poem

Past

one foot propped on the faucet
the other flips the drain

water
swirls
gurgles
drops

millimeter by millimeter

please take the shit with you

bracing her hands on either side
she rises
reaches for the towel
and rubs the

folds
curves
creases
lines
dry

seeking eradication

home

i am home. i will write about my experience soon. i have permission from the one i needed permission from to write about it (which means i won't have to keep writing around it.) and with that, the bottled up stuff from the last few months, years perhaps (a lifetime indeed)...some of it will appear here. i want to share this layer of my experience.
the last three days were full of some of the most emotional hard work i have done. ever. and today, home, still in my pajamas with a snoring dog at my feet...exhausted physically and emotionally, i have this to say:

i am proud of myself.

i tapped in to courage and bravery and boundaries. it is beginning.

i know many of you who come here probably know the poem "the journey" by david whyte...perhaps i have shared the link before. i turned to david whyte this morning...and plan to spend some time knee deep in his newest collection of poems over the next few days...but this morning, the words "wedge of freedom in your own heart" resonate so deeply inside me that i want to invite you to read it today too. just in case you need to.

oh and another poem (one that is actually in progress) that made me so happy this morning? the one happening in the comments of wednesday's post over at poetry thursday. go check it out! and then click over to today's post to read what other poetry thursday participants shared today.

(P.S. thank you all for your kind words and suggestions for what to do with my sinus infection. you helped me. i survived flying and three days of lots of crying. i am feeling better. still a bit under the weather but my level of exhaustion is probably more to blame. my head only kind of hurts from sinus pressure now. thanks for being out there in the world and taking the time to stop by to have tea with me.)

a day in april {poetry thursday}

this was not the poem i intended to share today. on this day, of all days. another year has passed.

but this is the poem that came out of me after sitting with some feelings for the last day. this is, in many ways, all of who i am today.

I cannot apologize

I imagine you
scared of her hand
her scissor-like words
her black truth
I imagine the little you
in a corner
willing yourself
into a quiet ball
of little breath

If the person I am
the one who might not want a baby
but is open to the whisper
that a child might be alive
today
and need a home
if the person I am now
knew
that ball
of endless fear
I would shift the world
to bring you here

To bring you
to a room with yellow walls
and endless shoes
and corners filled with pillows
I would bring you
to safe joy
and a circus of laughter
as we jump on the bed
I would teach you
all she taught me
with her gentle hand
quiet knowledge
and world of color

quite the day...and another poem

I have so much I want to say about ArtFest...I am getting to it, I promise...

Today has been a day full of work and catching up but also a really scary moment. This morning, Jon and I took Kelly to the airport (we really had the most wonderful time together, Kelly and me; I can't wait to put all my thoughts and emotions into words soon). Driving home from the airport, we were quite startled by the sudden shattering of the driver's side window. We were on the highway traveling somewhere between 60 and 70 miles per hour when this bang of shattered glass fell on Jon. He was cool as can be though and just kept driving, not swerving even a bit. After we determined he was not hurt (and confirming that neither one of us had been shot because that was truly the first thing both of us thought), we went home to clean the glass off Jon and get the other car and then were off to Speedy Glass for repairs. It took me about two hours to breathe normally though.

So editing some education courses today was a welcome distraction from that crazy morning. And, as I said in a comment to my new dear friend Judy, though my head was filled wtih business math and criminology today, my heart is full of joy that is ArtFest.

Another poem inspired by Susan's poemcrazy class and Poetry Thursday's daily prompts in April (today's was spiral):

I am arching toward blue
I am atop the weeping willow
I am the ease of laughter through an open window
I am the space between the sun and the sound
I am inside the spiraled pink petals
I am beneath the dusting of dew
I am the balance of grief and spring
I am the crystallized truth
I am hidden
I am light
I am breath
I am burning

a poem that made me exclaim "oh shit" {poetry thursday}

one great thing about poetry thursday is that you can post whatever the heck you want about poetry on a thursday and still be "participating."

another great thing about poetry thursday is that it invites both poets and readers of poetry to celebrate poetry. so both can participate with ease and enjoy themselves.

today, i come here as a lover of poetry. as a reader of poetry. as reading poetry is what got me here to poetry world in the first place.

and i want to share with you a poem by sharon olds that caused me to exclaim "oh shit" when i finished reading it...i might have even exclaimed it as i read it.

it resonates in that "oh shit" kind of way. in an "i don't exactly want to admit that i know this feeling because i don't want my parents to read this and think i feel exactly like this but what kid from a household where the parents are divorced and know that their parents lives might have in some way been better had they not married and...does not feel this way?" kind of way.

this poem...well...it says it all in a few lines. all that might be said in 20 counseling sessions or one intense moment if someone was ill or what one might say in a heated moment that would be interpreted in all the wrong ways...it says all of it.

this poem is why i love poetry. this poem is why i believe we all must tell our stories over and over again. this poem is why i believe that we should never stop telling our stories even when people might not want to hear us.

i hope you will take the time to go and read I Go Back to May 1937 by Sharon Olds.

(happy poetry thursday...
love, liz)

PS Poetry Thursday was a weekly poetry project that I began and then co-ran with another blogger back in 2006-2007. I still like to celebrate poetry on Thursdays and hope you will do the same in your corner of the world.