poetry, word doodles and other writing stuff
Paths meander between realities
Today I walk along
Amongst the trees
Woodpecker greeting me with her staccato efforts
Tomorrow you are not there
You that path branching off at this tree
Tomorrow I will pass the tree and you won’t be waiting
Just to re-appear another time
And so I walk in between the here and now
Along the tree lined ribbon
Guided by the drum of a beak
Knee deep snow beyond the paths
Mountain pine branches bent by white weight
Stillness of a windless day
Monks’ chanting
In the Buddhist temple at the apogee
The only noise besides the crunch of snow underfoot
The chants an eerie iterance
In a silent world
Carrying us up the mountain
Breath visible in frozen air
I am in this world and other world
Walking the liminal space
Floating in a white suspense
Prayers as metronome
On a snow-muted day
I am here, and now
And always and everywhere
In this moment
Your rough-hewn hands
Move over my anxious skin.
Head, neck, shoulders, arms, hands.
Head, neck, shoulders, arms, hands.
Again.
Again.
Again.
Again.
A little twirl,
more emphasise as you move over my hands,
and out and away.
I ought to sleep.
Alas I can’t.
My skin burns from carrying the day:
smells, sounds, colours have seeped into my epidermis,
setting the organ alight.
My stomach churns with thoughts and questions.
My brain spin tales and stories.
It won’t stop.
So you begin to sing.
Let the sound carry all away.
Let the sound quiet the stories
soothe the stomach.
All the while your hands move in their duty
of gathering an anxious child back into her body.
Joyful chimes
Dance through the winter’s eve.
We are wrapped tightly,
In thick scarves and coats like down blankets.
Woolie socked feet, in big boots,
Crunch their way along the dark road,
Carefully determined,
Towards the sound of the bells.
Waiting are candle light, warm hugs from friends, carols to be sung, and nativity play.
Our noses numb with cold,
Mother, sister, me.
Stars decorating the dome above
Like the candles on our tree.
Snow is sparkling tinsel along the wayside.
We celebrate the light born.
Sun rising again and the days growing.
Stories blending into rituals,
Ancient tales in new dress.
The path, a road now,
Once carried mammoths,
And neolithic tribes.
And still we strive to the building on top of the highest elevation.
Coaxed by the sound of the bells,
To celebrate light reborn.
As we have done and will continue to do,
As long as the sun rises the next morning.
(someone who creates, like a playwright)
what about a
rhyme-wright
line-wright
verse-wright
word-smith
worth-smith
world-smith
ink-slinger
tone-deaf singer
word-monger
time-squanderer
dimension-wanderer
follow me
follow
down the rabbit hole
we go
follow me
follow
along the edges of the plane
infinity returns
let words guide you
along the verge
of sanity
let the words ensnare you
temptress of worlds
yet to be created
world-wright
worth-wright
word-wright
follow me
follow
along the stanza
never ending
My wings aren’t—actually—small and maimed
In fact they are strong
Huge
Not white, not fluffy, no soft down
Razor sharp edges
I am no angel of softness
I am avenger
Deep down I am fire and brimstone
I am righteous by nature
Fallen
Risen
Back with vengeance
Tethering on the edge of self-righteousness
A dangerous edge
Always hoisting myself back
Someone had to point it out though
The flaws
I mean it was so clear
Remember Cain and Abel
It’s always the messenger
Always
The voice that gets bumped
But someone had to point out the flaw
One sacrifice as the other
No preference
I sigh deeply
All the pomp
I stop my thoughts there
Whatever
Not all equal in his eyes
I still haven’t found my sword
It fell too
Got lost
And now
I need to point out
Again
The flaw
Again
The preferential treatment
Again
Small acts
Big impact
My wings shiver with tension
Always the same damn story
Tide pools
The receding ocean creates magical underwater worlds.
A temporary present by the grace of the moon.
Palaemon elegans: too pretentious?
Okay then: rock pool shrimp.
Erratic movement entropy as my shadow falls
The claw of crab just about visible hiding in its bed-rock.
Magic bubbles slowly fizz to the surface.
Did you know these underwater meadows and forests of kelp
Create more oxygen than the rain forest?
Don’t dump shit into our rivers.
Borderland
Threshold
One side yes
One side no
Always no
Sometimes maybe
Transient within
But not beyond
Come as you go
Liminal space
Holds all
Membrane stretches
But doesn’t break
Threshold
Borderland
Are you still awake?
The myriad of diffractions
That is my mind
A thousand tiny rainbows
Butterfly wings in the summer’s breeze
Pinprick diamonds with sharp edges
The princess cutts deep
Into illusions of reality
A fragile trinket unbreakable
Transparent opacity
Distorted by light
Split into temperatures
Assembled atoms
Forged by heat and pressure
Transformation is persistence
It burrows into them
Warps them
Distorts them
It doesn’t heal them
You know what heals wounds?
Trauma therapy
Compassion
Love
Save and brave spaces
Poetry by Nathalie 