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 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.”

Day 66 of #the100dayproject - The Pain of Being

The Pain of Being

I need to know the earth will stay green

All of us worshippers of sunlight, wind, and rain;

our bodies wild, untamed, desperate for being.

Bears lumber through yards thin and lean,

gnash their winter teeth to lessen their pain.

I need to know the earth will stay green.

The kittens under the shed cry and keen.

Their mother left. Her fur bitter, eyes insane.

Our bodes wild, untamed, desperate for being

like the squirrels that scuffle up the trees,

their hunger drowned by the roar of an airplane.

I need to know the earth will stay green

that the rivers will never lose their gleam

and the mountains will never wax or wane.

Our bodies wild, untamed desperate for being,

tongues outstretched to taste the ocean’s aquamarine

and smell the wet musk of loam and terrain.

I need to know the earth will stay green

with our bodies wild, untamed desperate for being.

Day 62 of #the100dayproject - Progeny

Progeny

Children rip tears in the fabric of the earth

creating roads and tunnels of futures

more terrible than the last.

Day 61 of #the100dayproject - Grace

Grace

Stripes on spider legs, how beautiful they

must be to spiders. How long and lovely,

agile, like thin boned fingers threading

a needle. The embodiment of grace,

walking on walls, ceilings, and water,

dangling from every surface.

Skittering across kitchen floors like

ballet dancers rushing on and off stage

to form a union of organized flurry.

Such design to give so many eyes

to view the world, to give the will

to weave string into webs, the work

to capture mammal dreams to ponder

like reading tomes of books, something

to be watched and observed, if not less

than, at the very least, equals on this earth.

Day 48 & 49 #the100dayproject - Revisions - Eating Practices

Hello all! I've been taking the last two days to revise a series of three poems called Eating Practices in time for my first submittal to Granta. It's a long shot, but wish me luck. I will be looking for other journals and lit mags for my poem trio and my friend and fellow poet Kathy S. is also on the look out.

Day 50 through 60 will be focused on revision for pems that I have previously written. Revision is more than one aspect of the writing practice. A poem rarely is written perfectly. 99.9% of the time, poems take years to revise. Poetry is a artistic form that is dependent on time. Poems written 5 years, 10, years, 20 years ago finally make sense or come together based off of what we, as poets, experience.

Poems change with us. Only when they are ready, will they reveal themselves to us.

Eating practices has been more than a year in the making and has finally come together. Even with this first submission, it is possible that I will review the poems again and again and find new meanings and new ways to convey what I'm trying to say. Until then, I will be brave and send them out into the world.