Were I to take to the forest
And huddle beneath the bush
I would linger and
sustain my wealth
of gratitude
in seed for
carefully plotted conifers
both in splendour and timber
soil
rain
and sunlight
TDM.
Author: Teresa
I like to write. Just give me a journal and pen, leave me in a corner, and I will be immeasurably happy.
Big Sky (Part 1)
Barefoot steps on dirt paths carried me deeper into the wooded area where I was greeted by hordes of people slithering between and grazing one another. Their sun-baked faces turned blue in the starlight, contrasting the drench of sepia and terra cotta that soaked their cotton, burlap and linen garb draped across their bodies. Sipping whiskey before gulping fresh air I stopped noticing where my steps were, and following the brightest lamppost made of moonlight I took my gaze toward the sky. I stopped in my tracks and settled, cross-legged, on the mossy mess of dirt and grass, to draw a line connecting all of the silver specks in the sky. Being under Big Sky meant the changing of gratitude swept in overwhelmingly with the changing of the seasons. The rows of trees were not just trees, but homes for little life, simple life, or companions to the dazed people weaving in and out of them looking for the path. People were not just people under Big Sky either, but friends and gentle faces to stop and hug and wish a happy harvest too. In the short distance beyond the clusters of tent cities was a bon fire whose flames stretched upward, so tall they could have reached over the heads of giants.
TDM
Wither and Rot
In a world of shrivel and wilt
When what we need is seed and sprout
I am neither gather nor grow
I am wither and rot
TDM
Hug from Nonna
I hug my Nonna twice a year:
On her birthday
And on mine
But only because I engage
I announce the occasion
Buon compleano!
Lean in
And wrap one arm around her shoulders
I love you
I love you too
A kiss on the cheek
Maybe
But more likely reserved
For milestone occasions
TDM
Lying on a Rock
I disengaged myself
And let every tender vertebra
Feel as pious as
The stone
They were held upon
And reaching overhead
In my supinated situation
I gasped
And let my hands fall to
The pate of the rock
Connecting them like
A halo
Twisting my fingers
Around my own locks
Tangling them between the crown
On my head
Where the coolness of
The stone had met my skull
Supporting it
TDM
Some Words
I am
Thinking now
About the sensation
Of dirty toes tickling
The cool brush
My back outstretched on bank
Of lily pad bay
My eyes wide
Focused on tufts drifting across
Big sky
Where lonely is
A suitcase with the bare
Essentials
Essence of secrecy in
The gazes exchanged
Between me,
what waxing cycle will have me
And the essence of nobody
To trust in translation
No body
To speak my version of
Barefoot back to me
Wish
To wish and
wish and
wish to be
gentle
clothed only in magnetic
silence
would be my bliss
TDM
You
You took my inhibitions
And turned them inside out
In the most timely manner
So that at your convenience
You could call me
Sweet
Lovely
Beautiful
Quirk
A joke to you
But had you known
I was accustom to manners
Of flight
You would not have been
So inclined
In your attempt to
Flatter
You would have figured
Out so quickly that
I would crush
You with a look
Of discontentment so
Incessantly putrid
That you would be forced
To your hands and knees
Where my amusement
Would be your wretch
TDM
Andrew
You were trying to be
a Kerouac
When you led me
from subway to streetcar
To marbled sidewalk
and thought you were adventure
Looking for old doorways on Bay
Where I knew there were none
And you were trying to make me
your Queen Anne’s Lace
So I would be
gentle with your secrets
sooth your eccentricities
and unravel your spirit
But I was the seedling of
a dogwood flower
And led you
From subway to streetcar
To tall grass footpath
And thought I was adventure
In convincing you
to cascade backwards between
dandelion and dew
to match my wavelength
which was unravelling itself between
the blades of grass
as though the meadow were
a maze leading straight
to your disposition
TDM
Summer Heat
I need some opinions on this one. Is it complete or does it have a long way to go? Please comment below with any thoughts. Thank you kindly.
I could tickle the shade
on a day like today,
musky odour (I admit)
emitting from my “delicate” temple
whose flustered
along with my will
to make happy with
they
who step lightly and grin
while I drip
and drop
and drag myself onward
through what seems like concrete Sahara
Ugly
I have forgotten myself many times
mostly on purpose
I have made days go by without saying hello to
a mirror
and have been even better
at making nights disappear
suffocating myself under blankets
the easiest place to be
where words are muffled
and sounds elude me.
TDM
