Just in case
bury me in a dancing dress.
editors note: Love this – agnostic optimism. (Read another optimistic missive on Beate’s page – check it out.) – mh clay
Just in case
bury me in a dancing dress.
editors note: Love this – agnostic optimism. (Read another optimistic missive on Beate’s page – check it out.) – mh clay
pink satin high heels
with a bow at the ankle
the owner smokes
a cigarette
with her peach mouth
so much depends
on hours she spent
getting ready for this
puffing with her
girlfriends in the rain
You didn’t wait for me
at the unfamiliar
fork in the road.
I was only lost a little
while, then found my way
home anyway.
That’s all I have to say.
In her search for love, her way is found instead. – mh clay
Early
times of wild
anticipation, each
waking an event,
eyes open to surprises,
sunrise, sudden
excellence
of toes or hair
or even green skies
bold in paintings,
the quivering
wait after lunch
of bread soup,
for finally night
so old-fashioned
candles on the tree
could be lit. Christmas
Eve magic, days
she was not jealous
yet of things
she didn’t even want
she was still
good enough for life.
Long before she knew
how to dance
she knew it was coming.
She longs to wake again
to wander in snow,
reunited with her breathless
elfin adoration.
(re)Awaken! It’s a new morning – Noel. – mh clay
I kneel in gravel, no tears, just
fascinated with six tiny purple petals
poking through light snow. I don’t know
their name. I have arrived
here limping through decades of searing
masculine entitlement and much
benevolent contempt. Six tiny petals
like sunbeams, like foxes, like stars,
reminding me—I need no respect, no
love to exist. My splendid body,
like a purple flower, does its miraculous
thing, even as my soul limps on
in disbelief, knowing how
lovely it would have been to dance.
Can’t steal the shine from the stars we are; we CAN dance. – mh clay
It will — you did look, didn’t you? —
remind you of your dreams. It will
remind you the world owes you nothing
and you owe nothing in return. Life is
a gift, not a duty; it glides like a river
that doesn’t carve canyons for love. No
deference, no duty, no obedience.
It will remind you of your skin and how
it shelters dreams and bones. How beautiful
you are, exuberant when someone
unexpected crosses your path, a lizard,
a hawk, a lover, and you know even God
isn’t God in order to be loved. You can
breathe now. There are waterfalls
you yearn for you will likely never see,
and dances you will likely never dance
again, though they were dazzling and
perhaps still are in someone else’s bones.
But if you get up early in late summer
you may already find winter’s beloved
Orion in the eastern sky. You are enough
to make things happen.
Yes! Orion floats above us, the coming year is full of hope. Yes! – mh clay
How come
I’m tempted to run
out and buy meat to deliver
to a hungry fox,
yet I don’t want to give
spare change to a man
asking for it
by the Lutheran church?
Maybe we’re confused. Isn’t it, “Do unto foxes as you would have foxes do…” or was it something else? – mh clay
I live
therefore
I am
good enough.
Good enough for me, too! What do you think of that, Renee? (With this submission we welcome Beate into our crazy conclave of Contributing Poets. Read more of her madness on her new page – check it out.) – mh clay
What is the purpose
of a polar bear?
Exactly.
And that is my purpose
as well.
Yes, exactly! – mh clay
If it were
a green stone,
I would pick it
up for its beauty.
It was wadded
up chewing gum.
I passed.
Chew on this… :) – mh