by heather | Nov 18, 2012 | Poems
All these women who have found their own voices; some in mini-skirts or muscle shirts with bold tattoos, the asperity of age, the wondering silken glow of teenage seekers, the dreadlocked permaculture amazons hoping for longevity, the mothers in crumb-filled vans and...
by heather | Nov 18, 2012 | Poems
How much more naked can I stand when the clothes are long gone and the skin feels transparent and all these organs do their work without my help? Why do I feel that the stripping has barely begun, that new places of exposure are waiting, that while there is...
by heather | Nov 18, 2012 | Poems
Not shame, oh no, couldn’t it be anger or trauma improperly stored or some deep sadness with more noble qualities? Shame is so embarrassing. The nose-picking quality, the finding out that really there is a bigger piece and I want it. The fear of...
by heather | Nov 18, 2012 | Poems
When does it shift? How do I find the version of the song where my mouth can tingle in silent appreciation of others’ music? How do I stop the yearning desperate willingness to share the tumult of my words, these offerings of vibration with the hope of...
by heather | Nov 18, 2012 | Poems
You cannot engineer this birth: the waiting is necessary not as a condition or a chiding but simply a fact of body and life. You can ignore it in the bustle of the season, moving through your house or lack of one with a great intensity of nesting that you may...
by heather | Nov 18, 2012 | Poems
This Pandora’s box is being emptied, fearful angry ravens fly out screaming and my son says that sounds normal. And really, that is how a raven sounds when it is freed from a trap that it made for itself without realizing, so it screams with some shame and...
