Getting in Shape (for free)

Yesterday I came up with a whole new chapter for the book I’m working on (How to Live on Nothing and Have Everything). It’s called, Getting in Shape. CAUTION: This material is untested. I found myself believing the horseshit that if I only had money I’d get in shape; I’d join a gym; I’d hire…

Fishing

I’m fishing in a fathomless pond reeling in six today no seven piscine quicksilver so easily forgotten dragged from depths below I remember. The water tranquil mere ripples across the deep dark green a verdant vast pool of whispers and secrets. I pull them gasping for life breathe into them they don’t die dancing in…

Nouns

If I were to lose my nouns now as many women do what would become of my poetry? It would blow into nothingness a silent storm waving beyond air-tight windows. But I am blessed. As the hormones rearrange my brain and life, my nouns stick to me like magnetic poetry on the refrigerator. I am…

Losing You

I did not love you well enough or deep enough. I held back, disdained. And now regret rains on me for there are no further years to fill with opportunities for sunny affection or daisy days. I cared. I took care. I tended but I did not love. Today I crack open and leak from…

Blooms

I am weighted down by the beauty of the full-blown bush. Once upon a time I grew a rose but snipped its buds in their rolled and soft perfection. I prefer the unbloomed rose before it opens and begins to drop its petals. These bushes sag, burdened by their aging beauty it is too much!…

Q-Tips

Because the insides of my ears are wet I put down my chore and heed the Q-Tips’ call. I must swab out my canals while the wax is soft, and dry them so the wind no longer tingles through cooling them. Listen. Some people, I’ve heard, see their livingroom askew and rush to dust and…

Sexopause

Have you ever had a phase in your life when, in spite of being open to a sexual relationship, your romantic universe just doesn’t collide with the universe of Mr. A&A (Attractive and Available)? I call this, Sexopause. It can last a few weeks, a few months or, as in my current case, a few…

Silence

The long cold silent winter stretches out like a thin blanket on a loveless bed. I trust life is breathing – a barely beating heart in hidden leaves and sunken acorns frigid bulbs. The silence menaces me. No birds no dogs no screen doors slamming. No ribald teenage calls at two in the morning from…

Fruit Flies

I watch the winged drown in the cider trap feel a tinge sorry for their floating bodies no longer flitting annoying gnats helicoptering the tomatoes the pears the compost bucket. I rationalize that their last moments were at least debauched for flies. Then I reflect on the soldiers drowning in mud swatted from this planet…

California Cold

I flee outdoors to the sun. Cold in California where the altitude or latitude or some other damn thing like oceanic air renders caffeine neutral in my blood. Chilled and drunk on words from my host’s stack of books unread or read in our parallel universae a year ago or ten. He laughs at me…

Chatterbox Launch – Thurs Oct 13th, 2011- Zelda’s

I’ve been invited as a feature artist for The Beautiful and The Damned poetry cabaret here in Toronto at Zelda’s. In addition to launching my book, Chatterbox, it is also an evening to raise “A Toast to Jackie Burroughs“, Canadian actress and beautiful soul who passed away on September 22, 2010. Hosted by DM Moore,…

Air Show

Just wanted to say, on this fine dull morning, how yesterday you sat at a picnic table grinning at me from a face I’d never seen. And you reached out and into me and expelled an obsession taxiing there for take off. My ears are open not full of sand or pain. Open to hear…

Right and Left

“Pooh looked at his two paws. He knew that one of them was right, and he knew that when you had decided which one of them was right, then the other one was the left, but he never could remember how to begin. “‘Well,’ he said slowly-” from The House at Pooh Corner by A.A.Milne…

Chatterbox

You may have noticed I’ve published Chatterbox. Readers are asking a lot of questions and as the original chatterbox, I’m delighted to respond. Here are some of their enquiries: It’s bigger than I imagined, how long did it take to write? Well, the poems flew out of my pen over the course of a year…

Memories of a Sister

A Spaniard in the Works I sold it not worth much now on eBay Sorry Would you have kept it? You bought at the United Cigar Store a yellow lion coin bank honeysuckle incense cones and a tiny carved box with a hidden panel I remember your hamster skinny in his glass fish bowl and…

Publishing in Chalk

My children attended a tiny public alternative school in Toronto. Each year all families were encouraged to attend the graduation of the grade 6 class. This whole-school event was a tradition. I appreciated the inclusive nature of our school’s pedagogy so I went and sat in the hot gymnasium to witness the graduation of eight…

Chattering

Born with this big bundle bursting and chattering scattering love like dropped petals from wildflowers carelessly and carefully. Look what I picked for you, mommy! From my hot and sweaty hand she takes them, but later I find them withered on the sand. But still I am alive with love. Its pulsing sensate radiance. Never…

Writing my Grandmother to Life

I’ve written little while immersed in the world of self-publishing (for my soon to be released book, Chatterbox). Even my journal has gaping, week-long lapses between short terse entries. As Chatterbox reveals, I write to relieve pain, often. My writing, as my editor Thomas Hamilton pointed out to me, is scriptotherapy. So, in periods between…

Undertow

The tide is turning and in the draw the green frothy murk of the undertow. I see the flotsam of his needs scattered, the sad rotting angels swirling, the helpmeet dying, the precious words decaying – what am I saying?! It’s pulling – the setting sun and dragging love backwards down. I’m finding my warped…

Where there’s Smoke…

During my first year of marriage, anxiety was paramount. I lived in fear, afraid of the most mundane occurrences. Everything felt as though it was out of my control and at any moment might spontaneously combust into a catastrophic and painful apocalypse. One of my recurring fears, for which I sought reassurance from my husband…

The Difference

From the library I took two books one of God poems one of love. And read them side by side each day and could not see the difference. O’ that you would kiss me with the kisses of your mouth! prays the solemn Sol. Surely God is not some gentle reaper but a rapacious rapper…

An Apology to Poets

True confession. Yes, I have a degree in English literature. Yes, I’ve read the “Faerie Queen” and “Leaves of Grass”. No, I don’t read poetry. Why? Like most readers, I don’t get poetry. It’s difficult to read. It takes effort and time. I like to read stuff I quickly understand. Stuff which enters my brain…

butterflies are free!

I’m going on my first ever trip to Florida. I’ve seen pictures of the blue sky, the ocean, the palm trees and the enormous beach front hotels. It looks like the Florida of my imagination. I’m going there to vacation, to lie on the beach, to spend time with my friends, and to relax. Relax?…

speaking Michelangeloly

I haven’t written many new poems lately; I’m in between inspirations. But I have been revising. I realized today that revision is my favourite part of writing. In fact, before I send a poem out to a potential publisher, I read it over and usually change something. Poems never seem to be finished. Revision is…

koo koo ka choo

Semolina Pilchard published three poems today one of which is my “Aging”. The three poems share a theme, the turn of seasons, the resurrection; nice choice for this Passover/Easter weekend. I love the line in Joseph Farley’s poem, “A season of love followed/where the flowers all bloomed twice.” Feels like I’m in good company, like…

needs a Synonym for ‘thrilled’

Once Chatterbox was finished I still had about 150 poems ready for reading so in February I started to submit them to online publications. Better they sit on the internet somewhere than in my documents file. The first online magazine I discovered was Sea Giraffe. A tweet of theirs piqued my interest and I started…

words from the Publisher

My book, Chatterbox, is written. Formatting the manuscript for ebook is the task at hand. Also researching print on demand – formidable, but not insurmountable. I eagerly await the cover design by Michael Emery. He’s creating a sweet cover from a photograph of me as a child and a scribbled poem. I love it so…