Category Archives: national poetry month

CHOSEN


 

white pine forest

What is it to be chosen?

Pulled through a portal rife

Same to same and different

Breath has returned steady

and the heart beats back to itself.

~

Eyes track slow left to right

noticing how a forest looks like a forest

And the sun dapples the green

in shadow and light.

Senses rush to meet the moment

in this awakening

~

With trees that smell like

sunrise and baked bread

and a sky that fills your nose

with the smell of mown grass

and sweet honey

~

Birds give their song to wings

That sing in the wind, tree to tree

A squirrel fills your mind with

forest talk of nuts and fruit and

that water is down that path

and just over the hill.

~

Innocence has no answers

to this same and different.

Leaning alone against

this old tree that purrs like a cat

and fills the shock with the tender

comfort of a mother’s lullaby.

~

Caroline pushes her body against

the tree letting the comforting resistance

pull her wobbly legs to a stand.

“That way” fills her mind and

the feel of bark pushes her forward.

~

~

~

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OTHERSIDE


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In the the tangle of roots and leaf

in the quiet of wood and bark

In the smell of pine and earth

Eyes fly wide open in a gasp

Life force resumes in the push

of breath ballooning lungs

with tingling cells in the rush

of blood from heart to head

From a slow to nothing return

Life racing, racing.

The restraint of wood and roots

ease with her steady heart beat

and the even flow of air to lungs.

What was before her eyes only

moments ago assure her

she is where she began in the so-it-seems

The Light hangs differently

Wind tickles her edges

and the silence has no voice

in the birds and scamper of

squirrels and rabbits.

“Mother, Mother. leaps from her lips

eyes darting in the familiar unfamiliar

The fine carriage and horses

nowhere to be seen,

No road, No human presence

The ocean sparkles in the distance.

Aloneness is a quiver inside rising.

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Filed under FANTASY, NAPOWRIMO, national poetry month, NATURE, Uncategorized

TAKEN


 

SHADOWTREE4

me n’ my shadow

Like stiff arms wanting

Rough bark pulls at my coat

It pulls at my leather boots

it pulls at my heavy silk dress

lacing the weave of roots around

my thin legs.

~

It pulls in a hungry way

Like me being soft food

melting into the roughness

Silencing the scream that

leafs into my mouth

full of green and twig

The choke of it fills me with new life,

in the absorb of ancient familiar

There is no fight. No flight

turning to wood, to root, to bark

~

In the distant call of a name

I know to be a dozen lifetimes ago

Eyes blurring in a cave of

squirrel and nuts

And in the scent of forest wood,

laid to mossy green on the spike

carpet of rusty needles

Pine to Earth meets to the  surrender

all that was once of me.

 

~~~~

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Jane in Resistance


Day 5 of NaPoWriMo… This is an on going Poem inspire by the Fool.  You can  start from the beginning on April 1st, should you be so inspired to begin at the beginning.

~~~~~

2012-11-07 01.30.59-2

in my LIGHT

Opening eyes to an unknown radiance
when the cloak of night laid it’s chilled cover
and hours had held her entirety to the forgotten
Trying to be remembered.

The brilliance came through her eyelids
Her hands splayed over her face
Resistance was her friend.
The old oak of Bench her comfort

Bench was undulating
pushing at her immobility.
Whispering in her head
Swelling her heart’s desire
A silent urge to Open.

Fear stalked her hesitations
Pulling at her hands, her eyelids
A resonant ’NO’ filled her senses.
Peace had left the park
And the Sun was calling out
‘Jane, Jane, Jane”

What foolishness wanted a piece of her?
What trick of Light wanted to betray her
She welcomed the night’s crawl over her skin
Jane wasn’t . Jane was invisible
Till now.

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The Bench… one fools awakening


Day 3 of NaPoWriMo… my on going quest to write a poem/story, adding some made up bit every day, cause I can and it feels delightfully like a foolish thing to do.  Us Fools do like to Jump in, after all.

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The gift of the Bench… an awakening A Journey. 3 April 2017

There would be no explaining this.
Pressed deep into the wooden bench
Letting the wind tease at her edges
Letting the trickle of wet trace her cheek
Letting the smell of grass and root
weave their way passed the senseless
life so void of living, when her lungs
are filled with bird songs, her ears
held to the music of grass giggling,
and her closed eyes taking the Sun
as her lover.

There would be no explaining this
hyper sensual, elemental, out of body, and
back in again with repeat.
Laying witness to the forgotten
brought back in for remembering.
The tremble of the Universe filling her up.
Exposing the DNA of infinite connection.
Oh No…
Not in a city lost to any noticing of
the nature of this nature lost.

The hug of Verdancy, with her long
fingers and long ago memory
of a forever of Seasons changing,
wrapped tenderness around this Fool.
She fluttered in her consciousness calming
the split of her world in the abyss of clarity
Called out in a silent exhale, ‘Wake Up.”

A spell cast, a spell broken, on a park bench,
in this city of empty, on this April Fools day.
where stories of magic and earth wisdom
soaked deep into that bench wood of oak
with a thousand Foolish days that waited
for her to pause, lay down, and listen.
It had waited for Jane14.

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Foolish Reflects


A 30 day poem about The Fool’s journey.  Can I do it?  Stay with me an see.  Feel free to give suggestions what Foolish might do or Not.

GERMANY 130 This picture is when I was in Germany.  I was in a ‘crypt’.  I’m pretty sure I wasn’t supposed to do this.  It’s as close to a park bench of a picture I have.

~

A Fools Journey. 2 April 2017

Weary go the Days unattended
In the drone of beige and shadow
Eyes open, eyes shut to the ticktock
In the ‘it-doesn’t-matter-anyway’
A heart yearning for all that matters.
In a sunrise of possibilities
Purpose caves to the drab of sameness
~
Is not a Fool known to tend the fire
of surprise in the unexpected?
To poke at the skin of life ?
Leap into the known unknown?
Tumble the Joyless in to laughter?
Inspire the disheartened to wake up?
Jump into the void?
Embrace the untouchable?
Splay open the day in sudden abandon?
Show the way to foolish rapture?
~
Foolish lays on the park bench
While Spring dances on her frown
And Sun fires her closed eyes
She inhales at the edges
of the crumbles of her fate
That is no Fate at all for the fearless
She takes in the loss of her Way
That like fate is no good way at all.

Copyright, Jeanne Adwani.   2017

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Filed under a poem a day. Michigan poet, MICHIGAN POET, NAPOWRIMO, national poetry month, Uncategorized, Ypsilanti Poet

The Ending is a New Beginning


Day 30… the last day of National poetry Month.

Thank you to those who have followed and read my work.

I deeply appreciate that.

As is my favorite style of poetry, I give you a pantoum.

I will be gathering my pantoums for a poetry book.

Stay tuned.

~~~~~~

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BE HERE NOW

A day comes to sunset, a story ends, a loved one dies.

A relationship meets its closure, a beginning finds it’s end

And endings make a place for a new possibility

Life is woven in spirals, cycles of starts and finishes

~

A relationship meets its closure, a beginning finds its end

The in-betweens hold the reactions, the bitter and the sweet

Life is woven in spirals, cycles of starts and finishes

Curves and turns, betrayals and losses, the heart breaks

~

The in-betweens hold the reaction, the bitter and the sweet

The re-start is out of reach in the crush of life’s take away

Curves and turns, betrayals and losses, the heart breaks

A new day gives rise out of the dark night

~

The re-start is out of reach in the crush of life’s take away

And endings make a place for a new possibility

A new days gives rise out of the dark night

A day comes to sunset, a story ends, a loved one dies

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