Wednesday, February 2, 2011
survival – Yumi
the peacock pigeons came to swoop
her off her feet, yet again, where they
spotted her yesterday, crumbling at the
base of her kindred sequoia
she was mourning its decay, holding
in her hands a coronet of cornflowers,
pigments of ultramarine, sky, brilliant,
even phthalo and azure to emphasize
the depth of her hope for its survival
hunched over on her side, crying sloppy
tears onto the wilted petals, she offered
a deep moan in a rhythmic pattern that
captured the attention of the owl angels
during their watch last night
these were my roots, how can we let
go of each other?
her secret thoughts were not so secret
to the sage winds, the four-winged
gazelles, and the lion clouds sitting at
the crest of the horizon, thus the pigeons
coming to check on her posture today
keep moving, I know you’re reading
my mind, and who said you could do
every creature and energetic stone
turned their face to rest in a pause,
even the leaves on the trees stopped
this time, no one had ever called out
their mysticism for its nosiness
opposing the sensible trajectory of
nature, she decided to reject their next
move, not out of anger, but simply to
keep the record straight
don’t worry, I’ll let you know when
I really need you.
and just when the floating forest and
its entire world were about to draw in
the forces of her other dimension, she
called out for her serpentine rainbow,
painted a compass and decided to
take a drive
the forest mystics shook their head
(inspired by Yumi Sakugawa)
WCC Day 2 – Week 1: Freedom & Nurturing
2. how sweet the sound
i want more.
i’ve always known this.
there were times i couldn’t do better
than to say i was sticking around
because i was a strong giver.
but i was just scared to leave.
then there’s that thing called
and it’s a pretty big word.
it feels small in my mouth
to try and say it out loud
when i’m not really practicing it.
gets backed up by pursed lips
that hide in between my teeth.
but it feels big and wild and Kindergartener-like
to exclaim it when i know it’s there past the
tip of my tongue, leaping out of my heart
toward the firmament, sinking into nothing
but good ‘ole, everyday action.
when i’m truly aware that i am in control
of my playground, my papers and my
when i’m trying my genuine best to extract
its actualization from others.
when i know what the fuck i’m talking
about when i say it.
how sweet the sound.