fuzzy dirty grime of childhood

Poem written during a class at the National Voice Intensive 2011. About Beacon Hill Park, Victoria, B.C. There's a petting zoo there, which is why smelly farm animals are possible as a memory for me. Ha.
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Fuzzy dirty grime of childhood.
Stink of hogs and unwashed goats,
I roam through you and seek feelings to ease me.

Outside of young years I find you no longer,
Like Medusa each touch to a memory of old days, turns the hand cold stone.

Warm wood chips surrounded with abundant green
Bright lights through the leaves of trees and I am as clear as a beam of sun.
Cawing crows and shuffling families,
An old place, a new place, a desire for a place that feels like home.

Desires transpiring in and out of themselves
Green, leafy summers
Soft brown trees wise with age- they know not to splinter curious hands.

Branches of mysterious patterns,
Explorers with tiny hats and even tinier shoes.
Tall people wishing they would be so happy again.


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No Harm

Do not fear, my love-
no harm can come to us.

We are immovable, unshakeable,
our roots deep, our will, deeper.

Your strength the strength of all the mountains you have travelled through, the streams that held your swift strokes, the immense hearts that cradled yours from breaking.
Your strength flowing with the fire of the life-giving sun.

You will not falter if you believe that you are as I have said you are.
So believe, and be free.


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past horizons

First draft. I enjoy what's here, needs some fine tuning.
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Past horizons, past dreams,
we will walk, hand in hand
and see we already are free-

each breath, each breath summoning the air of our ancestors to dance with our blood, our bones.

my face, the face of a woman generations before me, who did not think I would remember.

my mother, my mother whose laugh is my laugh, whose pains are my pains, whose body gave me life.

my mother, the silver birch, the water lilly, 

my mother the ocean, the beaches of Chennai, the shores of Musqueam. 

my heart, the heart that sings with the sounds of all creation,

my heart, the heart that beats beats beats buh-beats buh-beats buh-beats for the wrongs against my sisters, my brothers of the earth. 

my skin, our skin, in the lightest and deepest hues, but all skin of the same thickness, the same fragility.

our souls, reaching for the sky but rooted in the earth,

let us walk together 

let us walk together, 

despite the harsh cold
through the scorching heat 

the hatred

the bloodshed 

the gut wrenching pain, 

let us walk this earth together, and we'll see we are free.  

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New Tides

I think I've done my fair share of sad poetry for a while. Time to share my joy and passion for life, for art, for love. For you.


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