Tag: poetry
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Terra.
A Poem. . . . maybe we really are all connected: these reaching, yearning branches; these muddy fingernails and earth-worn skin; these resilient bones. the wind: it is here. then it is gone, then here again. maybe the dust within us never truly vanishes. maybe we continually float on. oh, terra. i love you. .…
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Ch-ch-ch-changes.
An attitude adjustment. . . . Hi there. It’s SnapDragon. Remember me? January has almost passed us by, and I feel especially unfulfilled as an artist. I feel . . . heavy, even though I’ve lost all the baby weight. I feel . . . an odd mix of mindfulness and dissatisfaction at all that…
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On The Mirror.
. . . SnapDragon originally posted this on Wise & Shine, formerly known as Pointless Overthinking. . . . Like an elusive vapor, my reflection floats, then gently fades before my eyes. Like a favorite novel, its binding and its pages warp with the inevitable passing of time. Yet its story–its spirit–stays the same. .…
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On The Dark.
SnapDragon originally posted this on Wise & Shine, formerly known as Pointless Overthinking. . . . I’m afraid of the dark. Like, for real. And it’s not because I think there are trolls in the basement, or Civil War ghosts in the attic. (But—ahem—now that I’ve revived that thought, I might crawl into bed even earlier tonight.)…
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My Hands.
My hands are quite small. They have been through a lot in their 35 years. Pleasure and pain. Work. Life. They’ve learned musical instruments. They’ve pretty much perfected the art of chalkboard writing. They’ve sliced bananas and watermelons galore. They’ve boasted ridiculous acrylic nails; antique diamonds; tender callouses from part-time jobs. They’ve slapped the steering…
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Snippets of Summer.
Sweet Summer: It is making its slow, inevitable disappearance. And while I truly do enjoy all four seasons, I must admit I’m more than ready for fall. Bring on the cardigans; bring on the pumpkins. Let us north-easterners dry off our sweaty summer armpits and rejoice in the brisk autumn winds. But Snap, you’re getting…
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Sometimes.
All The Senses. . . . Sometimes when I’m freshly showered, with a spattering of lip gloss and my legs cat-curled up under, I feel a distant memory blooming. The air in my nose feels fresh, sharp. There’s a whimsy, an eyelash curl, a playground smile. I wash my hands in scalding water to kick-start…
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Shh.
Just Another Day in Paradise, Yo. . . . Hi. How are you, Dear Reader? How do you feel today: body, mind, and soul? Pause. Think. Answer honestly. Me? I’m doing just fine, thanks. I’m currently sitting on our RV love seat, clicking past the miles somewhere between Ohio and Indiana. Sweet Baby Snap is…
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Wait Awhile.
A Weirdo, Cerebral Reflection from Yours Truly. . . . Wouldn’t it be something if our every thought could be documented? Like, our dreams could be stored away in The Vault of Complete Memories, which I visualize as a rather Soviet-looking building, filled with hundreds of books and videotapes. Every dream, pondering, or musing filed…
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Last Gasp.
Oh, Winter. I do love you. . . . There’s something about the last gasp of winter that I absolutely adore. Because even though it’s technically springtime–what with the equinox being over and all–we northeastern folks know that pretty much doesn’t mean shit. And while there are usually a handful of truly glorious, 70-degree days…
Snippets of SnapDragon 