Day 77 of #the100dayproject - Penitence

Penitence

It’s true that I bought you cookies

only to eat them before you even

knew they existed.

And it’s true that I carry guilt

bigger than the moon for all of the things

I have not done or have not said.

I tally them up, notches in my heart.

It’s true that I hold each one close to me

as if nursing an injured limb or

as if each transgression is a new organ

growing deeper into me, changing

the landscape of my body. 

But when you cup my cheek 

with your hand, 

when we wake to sunlight 

slanting on our pillows, I feel

the warmth of you, and I try

to mistake this for forgiveness.

Day 76 of #the100dayproject - Praise

Praise

I praise your tired palms

the underbelly of your joints.

I praise the curls of your hair

their tangles like a black crown.

I praise your chest where I rest

my head to feel your heartbeat

against my cheek. I praise your

belly where all the sounds of you,

that constant labor, the beautiful shape 

over and around the smoothness of you.

I praise you with my body, my hands

idolizing the rituals of your limbs,

the slopes of your neck. I praise you

with my lips, each kiss a type of incense

the gentle touch of smoke and prayer.

I praise you with my ears, the sounds of

your voice erupting in laughter and ecstasy.

I praise you as you move through this world,

I praise you as a dream alive. I watch you 

with my eyes, your golden form. How you are mine,

how I am yours is the serendipity of life.

Day 75 of #the100dayproject - Memoriam

For day 75, I have submitted my poem titled Memoriam to Rattle's July 2020 Ekphrastic challenge. This month's picture inspired me to write more. 

Day 74 of #the100dayproject - The Game

The Game

I show him fir cones,

but the cones are too small.

I show him moss

and he stomps through it.

I show him mushrooms

under a pine tree;

He shrugs his shoulders

and plays with his toy gun,

carved out of cedar and pine.

He pulls back the rubber band,

squints his eye, lines up

his target, the soft

underbelly of a redwood;

it hardly has a chance.

The band snaps,

a trajectory of conquest;

a tree, in a little boy’s eyes,

is the shape of defeat.

Day 73 of #the100dayproject - Even at Five Years Old

I'm behind in posts, but I have been writing in my notebook many poems. I haven't had a lot of access of internet connection. We took a family trip to Glacier Natl Park and Yellowstone. Now Ashish and I are in Olympic Natl Park. We parked our travel trailer on the beach and are enjoying life.

Even at Five Years Old

And when he discovered

grass with its tassels ripe

with seed, he also discovered

conquest, grasping the stalk

with his small hands, pulling

until the stem separated

from the whole plant.

Then he raised it above him

Like the flag of a conquistador

or a sword used to weaponize

discovery as if land could be

discovered, claimed, and owned.

And that long stem of grass

an extension of his arm.

And in that moment, he knew

what it was like to destroy

and show off his handiwork;

the fruit of his pillage.

To everyone, he thrust

his trophy into our faces,

“It’s mine. All mine.”