We weave connections in human webs –
An invisible tangle of paths entwined,
As our fingers leave trails of human threads
Woven into a memoir of time.
Ghost of a tree – A poem
There is a tree I used to climb
With sweeping walls of green,
Enclosing me in another world
That only I could see.
Nooks and crannies in the branches
Became shelves to hold my dreams.
Each bough, a room all of its own
In a home (as I had deemed).
Soft & Sweet – A poem
The ripest peach, soft and sweet
Juice down your chin in a sticky streak-
The taste of summer, wonderful and warm.
But in a desperate, hungry gulp for more
The stone sends cracks through your teeth –
And tumbles down your throat’s hollow street.
Ocean life – A poem
In youth you live a pond life,
Submerged up to your ankles,
Orange fish nibbling at your toes,
Pebbles clear as day just a few inches below
The surface. You pick one up –
A perfectly round pebble.
You smile, and that’s enough.
Drunk on too much life – A poem
I have days lined up in bottles,
Hours pouring out the tap.
I fill glass after glass with minutes
And drink more time than can elapse.
How to document your life (or how not to)
I have a strong desire to document my life. Not necessarily my everyday experiences and errands or even special events, but just things that I see. Some people document other people, some their travels and adventures, but I like to document simplicities and complexities in the natural world around me. Sometimes photos act as bookmarks…
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Costumes of myself – A poem
Maybe tomorrow I will slip back into an old skin
To be momentarily reacquainted with
A memory, for the fun of remembering.
I will cloak myself in a costume of my past self,
Playing dress up in a skin and a mind once mine,
And the wrong-er it feels makes my new self feel right-er.
I will close my eyes and ignore the ill-fitting
Tight squeeze, stretched straps, and snapped seams.
For in a dance of vivid recall I remember: this,
This is what it once felt like to be me.
I don’t know how to do nothing (+ photos from a weekend away)
Some photos from a recent weekend away, and a little journal entry with a few thoughts on how it helped me with my chronic busyness and inability to ‘do nothing’.
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I wonder how I look when I don’t quite look like me – A poem
I found you in a song the other day
And you’ve been stuck in my head ever since.
You hide in faceless laughs and sideways glances,
An illusion in the corner of my eye.
I think I see a flicker of familiar and then
You’re gone, lingering as a distant relic
Or existing in only two dimensions –
Frozen in photographs
Where I don’t quite look like me.
2019.
A conversation with myself about 2019, growth and the perpetual state of transition.
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