Oh friends,
We are TWENTY days in! Twenty days of writing, reading, embodying words and poetry. The load of the world hasn’t gotten lighter. There is still war, genocide, death, colonialism, hate crimes, failed democracies, pain and suffering, selfishness. It’s nearly too much to bear.
But we keep going, with and for one another. We keep writing and reading, we keep supporting each other (if you have a moment and some funds, consider donating to World Central Kitchen, who continues to feed people in Gaza, Ukraine and around the world).
We are here because words bring healing. So it’s only fitting that today’s word is
p o e t r y.
I once asked a little girl what poetry is, and she stood tall and said “Poetry is me.” I was walking my dog and we paused for a moment as she lept through a field and I whispered “Poetry.” In a land far from here an artist brings people together to practice community and care— Poetry travels on the wind around them. And here I am, with a pen and paper, wondering who I can possibly be, and my heart sings— Poetry.
I have been a poet
since I was a child,
but sometimes I forget;
sometimes, it feels like
the words are trapped
on the other side of a wall,
and I am not tall enough
to reach them.
I forget that poetry
is in the air I breathe.
It makes me sad to think
of all the poems I never got to meet
that were inside me all this time.
Now I can only greet each day
with eyes open wide
to the poetry that lives inside,
reminding myself to inhale deeply,
hold the truth briefly,
and release.
Poetic Hubris
Sometimes I realize
my poetry
is the alter ego
of a cat burglar.
I am forever slipping
into homes, lives,
and conversations,
pilfering the linguistic trinkets
that pluck my heart strings,
bagging them up,
sneaking them home with me,
lining my shelves with them,
and eventually combining them
in ways I’m absolutely convinced
they’ve never before been conjoined,
and then proudly carrying them
down to the neighborhood
open-air flea market
or the county fair,
where I expect
they’ll bring top dollar,
or at least
win honorable mention.
This is the business card
I’m going to have printed:
Let me know
if you need
some punctuation donated.
That’s all I’m confessing
for today.