VerseDay 5-23-19

Enjoy today’s VerseDay and be sure to send me your poetry, essays, thoughts and musings for consideration in The Beautiful Stuff’s 2019 Poetry Anthology aptly named “No Small Things: The Beautiful Stuff Poetry Anthology 2019.

Send your work for consideration in the body of an email to: sereichert@comcast.net, with “POETRY SUBMISSION” in the Subject line, along with a brief bio and your website/promotional information.

And now this….

 

When you see me again

 

When you see me

Again

I will be much changed.

I will not be the girl you knew

I will be something

Strange and fierce.

 

The calm of sensuality

That you cannot touch

Hunger you cannot satiate

And when you see me,

You will ache to know me

But will not comprehend.

Cannot comprehend

The ways in which I have left this space

 

When you see me

You will know,

The river you cannot swim

The depth of mystery

And love

You only dipped

Fingertip

in

You cannot

Slide across my surface

or touch to feel me

anymore.

 

When you see me

I will have shed you as old skin

Left behind, pinched

between rock and ground

The ghostly outline, honeycombed in dirt

The woman who knew you

Has dropped away the shell of your empty

Affection

 

When you see me again,

You will not know me.

I will be much changed.

Strange and fierce.

An untouchable,

Incomprehensible

Ache

 

 

 

 

 

VerseDay 5-9-19

Recently I sat in on a class taught by Poet Laureate, Jovan Mays. He took every member of this class on an amazing journey in search of the river of our creativity.

In the coming weeks I’ll be sharing some of the results from the workshop. Some of the poems and free-thought writings will stay in my notebook. The power imparted by our inner creativity sometimes opens doors to things we aren’t ready to give to the world yet.

So enjoy, share, comment. Love hearing from you, always.

 

river

What The Water Said

 

And the water said,

You are not yet enough.

 

It spoke; it whispered

Over the cold, pale skin of me,

That I had rocky tumbles yet to go,

And so long to learn.

 

About the ways,

I fell short

in the neophyte tremblings of someone

Who’s walls had been built,

Before her heart had finished growing

 

And the water said I was

but was not

Enough

Until I saw it for myself

 

And In myself

 

And the water said

come back to me.

Return to the edge of the

smooth pebbled riparian and

Find

Yourself

 

When you are ready.