Category: poems

the fish tank

We Float Alone-Daughters of Summer, Sara Ann Long
different fish
share
the same water
each sharp flip
pulling water back
to push water forward

2 same fish
chase
one leads, the other leads
who starts (not clear)
distracted by the rock
again
who starts (not clear)
chasing
seeking their twin

in their chase
missing colorful fish
horned fish
gently floating seaweed

in their chase
2 same fish
don't see

me in my chair
seeing the glass box
holding a universe
seeing the game
from outside

i know how to play

always seeking the identity
always chasing the reflection
recognize
reflection
as illusion
a game
with no winner
munich, germany // april 2020

a primal preparation

what is it about him?
what is it about me?

“Ich erinnere mich sich selbst.”
A part of me feels like he is everything, the one.
A part of me feels like he will never understand.

So I seek, myself, to find the answer.

I seek
What I fear?
Who I am. What does this mean, I?
How I block and ignore?
How I hide, how I shine?
How I love? Giving and receiving. 

I enter an experiment with others.
An inaugural gathering to my inauguration.
  
I give myself permission, to rest, to retreat by choice.
To see my strength, through the love.
I glow.
sintra, portugal // august 2019

1st and final manifesto

  • 1 / I am for the art that grooves through the stillness.
  • 2 / I am for the art that hears the silence within the groove.
  • 3 / I am for the art that cherishes the silence within the groove.  Embodies, senses, transmits.
  • 4 / I am for the art that reflects like a box covered with 100 diamond shaped mirrors.
  • 5 / I am for the art that says hello to the self that has forgotten to open its eyes.
  • 6 / I am for the art that is the before, the during, the after, in one breath.  That is the breath.
  • 7 / I am for the art that confronts that which lays dormant.
  • 8 / I am for the art is the earth, the fire, the water, the air.
  • 9 / I am for the art that gives space to each particle. The space each particle deserves.
  • 10 / I am for the art that has a forever home and knows it.
  • 11 / I am for the art that pushes your blood to your heart, pulls your tears from your eyes. 
  • 12 / I am for the art that spreads.  As quickly as dispersing milk through a morning coffee, as slow as dripping honey from a tiny spoon.
  • 13 / I am for the art that burns as hot as the tip of the cigarette meeting the flame, that silently swirls as the smoke after.
  • 14 / I am for the art that attaches shamelessly to the sweaty bodies making love in the lost ashes.  That is the love that is made.
  • 15 / I am for the art that floats above the clouds with its attention on roots below the trees.
  • 16 / I am for the art that hears the whimper and provides the embrace.
  • 17 / I am for the art that becomes the sun through being a ray.
  • 18 / I am for the art that realizes the moment it awakes.
  • 19 / I am for the art that realizes the infinity it inhabits.
  • 20 / I am for the art that realizes the harmony it perpetuates.
  • 21 / I am for the art that is an oasis of time.

[inspired by Claes Oldenburg]

heat under the ocean

the unfinished surface
of your hardwood floors
rough and soft, a mirror to my feet
your crooked teeth and warm lips 
a mirror for my fingers
to dip into

 

dipping into you, hot and wet
i melt so easily
your flame takes my oxygen
takes me to melt and drip
in your warmth 
golden soft tender
flickering

will you go out?
northampton, massachusetts // september 2017

poems of 3 places, poems of 3 months

PORTUGAL

 
thick
the blanket lays low
on the mountains
heavy
layers of flags, blowing.
a tree passes by
grey and warm
a family stands
black + pink
individual + total
sensuality in the darkness
the expression that is everything
flowing through my body
for the first time
the excitement of the child
i feel it again,
i remember.

ZURICH

we meet again.
pink skies and the icy wind
electric points and the silent abyss.
when do these points of opposition meet? light reflects off her waters,
when will it meet
the light of mine?
space stands between,
but i am you,
and you i.
i sit on your banks
strands of green hope
growing between us
strands connecting borders of perception.
when i perceive you,
i perceive me.
we are one.

TEL AVIV

out of the bright sun
i write, my
desires crash against the edges of the beach 
wishes float above
i am caught by that which i believe,
and held by that which i let go.
with the light of the sun, reflecting off the split moon
 i find my way in the dark.
setting intentions
adding to the light
till the light is full, suspended in the dark and intentions blossom
spreading seed,
offering nectar.
portugal // august 2019 – zurich, switzerland // october 2019 – tel aviv // january 2020