late summer haiku
poppy seeds scatter to soil
illusions shattered
dead rose petals fall softly
poppy seeds scatter to soil
illusions shattered
dead rose petals fall softly
Today is November 1st and, as it often is in Seattle at this time of year it’s wet. I’ve been riding my bike almost daily since August and enjoy my ritual. I ride in my skirt so I can feel the wind on my skin (and, let’s face it, I like to look cute). I’ve…
how silly of me to think you might come perhaps if i told you it involved my head and a gun i just want you to be here for the celebrations you just want to be here for the pain how silly of me to think you might call me perhaps if I told you…
steeped in paradox words and more words on paper my body just knows
I don’t remember when it happened exactly, but it did. I was probably really young and impressionable at the time and I drank it in: The criticism and judgments of others, the conditional acceptance that comes with colonizing. I heard things like: Be like me and I’ll like you. Don’t be too much of…
I’ve been considering the subtle qualities of communication as well as the intention behind it because of a few experiences I’ve had recently. Even if I am choosing my words carefully and practicing being “assertive” (versus aggressive) or if I’m saying “I’m not attached to the outcome” when I really am VERY attached, it is…
my days of feeding the hungry ghosts are over the men (and sometimes women) who hover on the outside wanting to steal my soul and put my spirit–my light–in a gourd to drink from when they are empty or sad or lonely no more! yes i see your pain and sorrow and yes, you are…