Free Verse

by

poetry: abundance

talk to me about roundness,
the gravity where we cluster,
thick skin, soft insides,
held on a single wire.

remind me of change:
sweet to complex,
sharp lines giving to sun,
resting in the quiet wood.

forgive me for bitter edges,
seasons grown wild, distant.
breaking us open,
whole enough to mend.

tell me about anchors,
roots wound together—
rings forged from fire
green against the world.

*29/100: For the next 100 days, I’ll be writing and posting a poem every day.

**All photos are mine, taken with an Olympus E-M1 MarkII and edited with Lightroom Classic. 

by

poetry: star shadow

words don’t matter
you do
across a table
carrying our years
cups in hand
shadow pens
starry paper
ray dotted cheeks
called-out names like a song
jane says look up
we rewrite the room

*28/100: For the next 100 days, I’ll be writing and posting a poem every day.

**All photos are mine, taken with an Olympus E-M1 MarkII and edited with Lightroom Classic. 

by

poetry: be a woman

don’t argue a thorn
demanding it soften
deny its embedding nature
to turn inward upon itself

don’t ask it to grow
outward like pinecone
easier to hold onto
a seed just for you

don’t order it bloom
grow petals like daisy
delicate sweetness in a jar
your own summer sunshine

no

let it spread 
drop
unapologetic
seeding itself 
exactly where it lands

*27/100: For the next 100 days, I’ll be writing and posting a poem every day.

**All photos are mine, taken with an Olympus E-M1 MarkII and edited with Lightroom Classic. 

by

poem: click, click, click

behind the lens
clouds grow limbs
horizons are eyes 
hands lanterns
turn toward me
whitecap dance
let sand feed you
birds mother you
seaweed turns blanket
shells home
let me see you
breathe

*26/100: For the next 100 days, I’ll be writing and posting a poem every day.

**All photos are mine, taken with an Olympus E-M1 MarkII and edited with Lightroom Classic. 

by

poetry: a promise is the sky

venus promises astrology
earth eyes shining
houses in alignment
mercury on water
hold the lantern
copper pot overfilling
tell me what you see

moon promises alchemy
elements within palms
draw a diagram
seven-part light
bareback rider
strong silver chain
tell me what you see

earth promises center
fingertips reaching
voices folding
firelight gathering
bracing together
container of all
tell me what you see

i see home

*25/100: For the next 100 days, I’ll be writing and posting a poem every day.

**All photos are mine, taken with an Olympus E-M1 MarkII and edited with Lightroom Classic. 

by

poetry: you are moose inside light and i am amethyst on shelf

“I am who I am meant to be.   I am this poem.
I am moose inside Light.“—Neil

moose runs through stars 
now
playing tag with light 
his 
threads collect cinnamon 
pain 
turned to bottled milk 
absorbed 
within the belly of a cat 

amethyst sits on shelf 
now 
heavy dust collecting 
her 
dreams into bound pages 
pain
liquid rain sparks inside 
swallowed 
with another cup of coffee 

gravity loses its grip 
next 
dust blows off the pages 
both 
floating blue whales 
fear
quietly dissolved by salt 
joined 
in the belly of the universe

*22/100: For the next 100 days, I’ll be writing and posting a poem every day.

**All photos are mine, taken with an Olympus E-M1 MarkII and edited with Lightroom Classic.

by

poetry: backrooms

hiding behind a teetering tower of chairs sits
chipped glass words.
burnt popcorn words.
banana slug words.

water-stained trunks choke them down.
wardrobes jammed against the wall.
floorboards nailed shut.

at night they escape.
muffled cries through hallways.
doors which don’t open.
holes in the floor.

don’t listen.
don’t look.
they are already in the air.

*20/100: For the next 100 days, I’ll be writing and posting a poem every day.
**All photos are mine, taken with an Olympus E-M1 MarkII and edited with Lightroom Classic. 

by

poetry: ink and fur

when my poem coyote hunts
it makes no sound.
hunger guides it—

a vibration like gnawing, like remembering,
like stalking white rabbits through thick pages.

once i dreamed it howled,
loud enough to rearrange my ribcage
into a den.

you were there, hunting too,
a thread tied between us
like a leash, or maybe
an umbilical cord.

sunlight pressed into our skin,
warming our fur until we rolled over,
leaving nothing but words
cooling in the dirt.

*19/100: For the next 100 days, I’ll be writing and posting a poem every day.
**All photos are mine, taken with an Olympus E-M1 MarkII and edited with Lightroom Classic.