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Eating Poetry: January 2015

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Sunday, January 11, 2015. The Soup That Carried Her Through. When her heart broke in two. All she wanted to do was sleep. She'd awake from time to time. And envision a pot of soup. Out of bed she'd jump like a gazelle. Straight into the kitchen. And get to work. She'd feverishly peel potatoes, onions, carrots. And dump them into a boiling pot of water. When the soup was ready,. She'd share it with her roommate. Who would then go off to work. Back to bed, she'd crawl. And sleep some more.

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Eating Poetry: March 2015

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Tuesday, March 31, 2015. Prayer for a Bee and all the Pretty Dying Things. Chased by dying insects,. They seem to beg me to save them. A beetle upside down on a table,. A moth unable to fly,. A ladybug on her back in the sand. A bee rides my leg. As I ride my bike,. Clinging to my coffee stained jeans. I ride till I can no longer take the fear of getting stung,. And deposit him in a roadside garden. Growing out of a sidewalk crack. I aim for a rose. But he slips and falls to the warm ground. Holy, holy,.

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Eating Poetry: Prayer for a Bee and all the Pretty Dying Things

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Tuesday, March 31, 2015. Prayer for a Bee and all the Pretty Dying Things. Chased by dying insects,. They seem to beg me to save them. A beetle upside down on a table,. A moth unable to fly,. A ladybug on her back in the sand. A bee rides my leg. As I ride my bike,. Clinging to my coffee stained jeans. I ride till I can no longer take the fear of getting stung,. And deposit him in a roadside garden. Growing out of a sidewalk crack. I aim for a rose. But he slips and falls to the warm ground.

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Eating Poetry: May 2014

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Wednesday, May 28, 2014. A Lonely Heart and A Firefly. Full of gratitude, I offer you my heart but you shake your head and say, "Tsk, tsk, it is yours to keep. It is the striving for something more that will keep you growing." And I don't understand. I found you, didn't I? Monday, May 12, 2014. Somewhere On A Sand Dune. Thursday, May 08, 2014. Things Falling Out of My Cabinet. The tea kettle screamed. When the olive oil hit it in the nose. The salt shaker jumped into the fray. Sunday, May 04, 2014.

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Eating Poetry: December 2014

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Friday, December 12, 2014. The insects moved in when wardens were sleeping,. Under light fixtures they set up housekeeping. Bees built a hive, horseflies built a nest,. An orderly house turned Wild West. Moths' wings propelled flesh into light,. Watching them burn was a delight. Creatures increased, claiming this home,. Gnawing the roof down to bare bone. They partied and feasted, pooped and deflowered. This sumptuous house now dead and devoured. Sunday, December 07, 2014. To Live Even for a Short While.

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Eating Poetry: June 2014

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Saturday, June 14, 2014. A Love Poem - The Spoken Street. Subscribe to: Posts (Atom). Only A Few Copies Left! The Echo of Dreams. Book $25.00 USD. Book international shipping $30.00 USD. Just like we need to feed our bodies to physically survive, we need to feed our spirits to creatively live. Spirit is about creative expression and tapping into realms forgotten and vague. Poetry brings these worlds into the present; they remind us who we are. View my complete profile. A Love Poem - The Spoken Street.

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Eating Poetry: July 2015

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Sunday, July 26, 2015. A Bushel of Thorns. A bushel of thorns. Collects in grief's eyes. Hearts are pierced when he walks by. I did not know the girl who died,. They said it was suicide. Rejected by the ones she loved,. Rejected by the life she knew,. She tried to build life anew. Without roots to depend on. She fell one night. As others drowned inside a glass of wine,. They barely noticed she was gone,. They never got to meet her. She went to meet the man in black. He stood right behind her,. Kid in a C...

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Eating Poetry: February 2014

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Saturday, February 22, 2014. The Day a Leaf Landed in My Book. A strip of sky floating over my little backyard. I reach out my arms and pretend I could fly. Sojourn at the Farmer's Market. In times of war, we fight. In times of peace, we play ball. One child carries a French baguette;. The second, a bag of grapes;. The third, a bag of oranges;. The fourth, a drawing. The men talk video games. In an area marked with cones. And kick a ball through splintered grass. The boys in the lettuce stand. Quote of t...

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Eating Poetry: Mama

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Sunday, April 12, 2015. Her love brought me into this world. Her love for everything fresh, new and exalted. A cousin recommended a class on musical theory. And she arrived late. A shower after gym held her up. And like Venus out of the sea,. Slipped into the classroom. Lounging in back of the room,. My father whistled to himself. And passed her a note. No class tomorrow," it said. She always loved great literature. There was nothing like a well penned sentence. To get her juices flowing. Friends of the ...

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Past Residents | Arts@Renaissance

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Postcards To North Brooklyn. Jody Oberfelder Projects: 4 Chambers. In The Basement Theater Company: The Lady in Red Converses With Diablo. TART Collective: Collectively Assembled. Third Rail Projects: Then She Fell. Jill sigman/thinkdance: Hut #7. Leave a Reply Cancel reply. Enter your comment here. Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:. Address never made public). You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. ( Log Out. You are commenting using your Twitter account. ( Log Out.