Dying/broken/forgiven.... now I begin

Born: 17-06-56....gemini.... monkey
re-born: 3-09-80
born again\found: 14-04-08
other notable dates: 10-03-68; 03-09-87; 23-03-96;
1-05-98; 31-01-02; 5-04-04

Interests: movement, stressed/transgressive embodiment, lived experience (body\space\time\relation)
expression ( word, dance, text, image, story, music, poetics)
learning, yielding......

Hopes for the blog:
offer up the wild intersectedness of lived experience and engage others in creative, expressive, perhaps irreverant, hopefully playful, and respectful encounters....
enact kindness
create moments of pause for disclosure, discovery, stillness

Monday, March 23, 2009

Word's undying intimacy...

I had to be told there was no bunny
bringing eggs
at an age when I should have long since
consumerist culture's
appropriation of imbolc and equinox.
It was a shattering revelation, as were most
adult kindnesses of my youth.
I remember feeling a similar incredulity being told
there were no faces in the curtains of my bedroom window
no jolly saints delivering gifts
& no faeries collecting teeth.
My universes of hybrid stories and unlikely partnerships
sublimated into other perverse forms...
expression and behaviour.
I was the child for whom corporal punishment was invented --alas,
to no avail.
Fantasy awaits me in hell
along with piles of eggs, teeth and reindeer poop.

But yesterday, I heard it from one of the creatures themselves...
new beasties have been spotted
gamboling about the streamsides and hillsides
foraging and grunting
in the bushes and puddles
poking and sniffing
the air
barely stopping for thirst
& then returning, wild nymphs
to their joyous labours...
poets on the loose in March...
the time of celebrating
undying intimacy
with earth


  1. My thanks to my son for the phone call that got this one going...

  2. LOVE this! LOVE this!

    that little girl inside you is so alive... i can see her in most of your works... painting colorful images so vividly that they linger in mind for a long time... perhaps forever...

    that twist in the ending was fabulous...

    poets let their inner child play... corporal punishment is abolished in their land, eh?
    love to you, Harlequin...

  3. oh... me too should thank your son... triggering unconsciously this beautiful poem... that adds to the beauties of the world...

  4. HB

    you do every day... thank you friend...

    but you're closer than that you're family...

  5. ... and when Zaal was leaving, Simorgh gave him some of her/his feathers... telling him whenever he needed her/him, he could put one in the fire... and s/he would appear in the blink of an eye...


    i'm honored J/Son... and blessed...