Tag Archives: Ypsilanti Poet

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.

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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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