bloodteethandflame

A life in threes

Tag: Poem

Sometimes I just need poetry.

~~ The Journey~~

One day you finally knew
what you had to do, and began,
though the voices around you
kept shouting
their bad advice–
though the whole house
began to tremble
and you felt the old tug
at your ankles.
“Mend my life!”
each voice cried.
But you didn’t stop.
You knew what you had to do,
though the wind pried
with its stiff fingers
at the very foundations,
though their melancholy
was terrible.
It was already late
enough, and a wild night,
and the road full of fallen
branches and stones.
But little by little,
as you left their voices behind,
the stars began to burn
through the sheets of clouds,
and there was a new voice
which you slowly
recognized as your own,
that kept you company
as you strode deeper and deeper
into the world,
determined to do
the only thing you could do–
determined to save
the only life you could save.~

~Mary Oliver

Month for Loki, Twenty-Sixth: Reveal (a poem)

REVEAL

(A Prayer to Be Free of Masks, [WIP])

Dear Loki

All of my life I have been wounded

By the judgments of others, the shame of others,

And I’ve been holding myself prisoner

With my own judgments, my own shame.

So I put on many masks

To hide my wounds, to hide my shame.

Masks of strength and certainty

To hide my fear and my vulnerability

Masks of indifference and anger

To hide my grief and my pain.

Help me, Loki

To set myself free.

Oh Loki

Reveal my lies to me.

Take my masks from me.

Show me my truest self

Teach me to be fearless

With no need to hide

Behind these masks.

Poetry: I need…a red dress.

BY KIM ADDONIZIO

I want a red dress.

I want it flimsy and cheap,

I want it too tight, I want to wear it

until someone tears it off me.

I want it sleeveless and backless,

this dress, so no one has to guess

what’s underneath. I want to walk down

the street past Thrifty’s and the hardware store

with all those keys glittering in the window,

past Mr. and Mrs. Wong selling day-old

donuts in their café, past the Guerra brothers

slinging pigs from the truck and onto the dolly,

hoisting the slick snouts over their shoulders.

I want to walk like I’m the only

woman on earth and I can have my pick.

I want that red dress bad.

I want it to confirm

your worst fears about me,

to show you how little I care about you

or anything except what

I want. When I find it, I’ll pull that garment

from its hanger like I’m choosing a body

to carry me into this world, through

the birth-cries and the love-cries too,

and I’ll wear it like bones, like skin,

it’ll be the goddamned

dress they bury me in.

(1954, from Tell Me)

Poem: I Am Becoming the Woman I’ve Wanted

It is all I can do to get there, and while I am not entirely there, I’m getting there as best I can. – a commenter on Sarah’s post.

~~~

A lovely acquaintance of mine, Sarah, posted a particular poem on her Facebook wall, and its words struck me immediately, profoundly, as sneaky tons of bricks often do.

Sometimes I don’t know how much I have been needing to see words such as these until I’ve read them.

As with a good meal, I find myself digesting, and carefully reflecting upon these words, and realizing how closely they tie in with my present thoughts.

And for that reason, I share them with you here:

I am becoming the woman I’ve wanted,
grey at the temples,
soft body, delighted,
cracked up by life
with a laugh that’s known bitter
but, past it, got better,
knows she’s a survivor–
that whatever comes,
she can outlast it.
I am becoming a deep
weathered basket.

I am becoming the woman I’ve longed for,
the motherly lover
with arms strong and tender,
the growing up daughter
who blushes surprises.
I am becoming full moons
and sunrises.

I find her becoming,
this woman I’ve wanted,
who knows she’ll encompass,
who knows she’s sufficient,
knows where she’s going
and travels with passion.
Who remembers she’s precious,
but knows she’s not scarce–
who knows she is plenty,
plenty to share.
– Jayne Relaford Brown, author

~~~~

Thank you, Sarah!