Flowers

Inspired by Joy Harjo's "Everlasting."





I am clinging to my deep knowledge
that all will be well.
If I'm learning anything, it is that
I have bounced through life,
confronted with tough situations,
and I was assured I'd make it
through.
I did then.
I will now.
I may or may not be offered the
flower of choice;
it will be what it will be.
We charge forward knowing the harm,
and this is baffling.
We have lost our way.
There are flowers for the dead
to come.
Will I be among them? I don't know.
Understanding that I am not to
worry means I cast my soul to
its destiny...

and let it be.

Write Around the Corner Meeting Prompts 7/11/2020

#WriteAroundtheCorner




#1. Three Sensory Words

We sent three sensory words to another person in the group, and they used them to write something of their own, using all or some of the words.

Example words: tickle, prickly, salivate, illuminate, soothing, jarring


#2. Describe a room using specific details.


#3 The Wound, The Scar, The Soft Spot

Consider your body -- your scars, your stress points, places that draw your attention. Write about one of them.

Holy Confusion (7 Lines/7 Days #9)

#108Weeks

When I look back at this summer, what will I see?

Am I motivated by love or fear?

These words come to me as a strange comfort:

What of it?

Indeed.

What of it? 

I used to live in a country that cared about its citizens, 

but it is becoming more & more apparent that isn't the case.

This has been a day to realize

where I'm standing right now.

I'm focusing on quieting down, continuing to purge,

and create my sacred space, bit by bit.

Today I am going to take it easy.

Morning Prayers

Inspired by Joy Harjo's "Morning Prayers."

My morning prayers today feel blank.

I do not know what to pray for.

I guess I need to pray with.

With the belief that the course of things will somehow serve us.

With the clear-eyed look at fear -- call it what it is.

With the unbending faith that we will make it through.

The days are short.

Answers few.

Found While Mudlarking: "Tempest"

I found this poem, perfectly typed out, in a journal.

The date is March 30, 2003.

The day the United States invaded Iraq.



Tempest

A tempest blows in Florida.
     I walk as the clouds gather
        dark, foreboding, yet lightning free

Until I round the bend
      to the lake and the
        wind whips my hair back

A great blue heron
     symbol of aggression
          is up to its feathers in water

In deep, trying to escape
     what is coming -- me.
           The wind blows harder

The fountain spray flails
    like so much holy water
          on the holy war to come

Jihad for those who are
     pre-emptive and assumptive
         and arrogant of all

The world should be.
   I see a tree, the last
     remaining flowers and

The bottom branch, broken, hanging
           swaying in the wind.

Jason & Jack (7 Lines/7 Days #8)

#108Weeks


(Note: This week my thoughts seemed to be all over the place. I tried to group things as well as possible, and then framed with my favorite quotes from the week.)




Jason Reynolds says a synonym for freedom is "breathlaughter."

      Getting in the flow of my journal project.
      I'm really in "finishing stuff" mode.

                            Alliance for the Arts has opened an exhibit. Can't wait to go!

      I had too much faith in "good sense will prevail."
      What will happen when there aren't enough teachers?

                            Jack Kerouc says: "There's your karma, ripe as peaches."

Groundwater (a monostitch)

Inspired by "The Hurting Time" by January Gil O'Neil

The only time I listened much

to Annie Lennox

was 13 years ago when Jim

was in the hospital

after nearly dying, so I can

concur with O'Neil when

she talks of how "her words

get inside me/like groundwater"

since I can't hear Annie without

thinking of those days;

and I think of them now

as concern swirls around

our long term health,

and what is to come.

An incredible performance of "Why"