Category Archives: Poetry

Simple Pleasures

Cold apple-juice my insides licks
While sour-cream of coolness tastes
And in zucchini-soup goop sticks
While down my throat the food with haste

Next radish-horse on ham and bread
And pick of veggies from the cold
If cabbage, carrot, pepper red
Or something else my mouth enfolds

Yes sir, our fridge is full of food
Like herrings in their hallowed jar
A nest of eggs in styr-form broods
And juice completes the drinking bar

A taste of yogurt, frozen fruits
And freshly apples picked (and pears)
Pink radishes and onion-roots
‘Midst carrots with their verdant hairs

I don’t aspire to gluttons’ meals
Nor in my joy deny this wealth
But since, for once, the table feels
So full I won’t raid lair or shelf

From my own kitchen to my mouth
A spice, a sauce, a green, some meat
Ring true the words “i hör ned auf”**
And so, without a care, I’ll eat

M.
Apr 29/15
**”i hör ned auf” means “I won’t stop” in German dialect
And yes, I made the food in the pictures myself…

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“I Love You Dark”

My love’s not pure nor glorious as the day
As dark and coarse as skin is fair and bright
It shines, but without light to guide its way
Not holy or of perfect, lacy white
It clads itself in simple, dirty scabs
In scars and bone and curling, muddy hair
My pulse it quickens and my hear it grabs
Without decorum, rules, or playing fair
As old as earth, as dark as dawn is light
It twists and writhes; it shudders like the frost
My love is neither perfect nor alright
But hard and dark and all too eas’ly lost
My love is simply man and shades of skin
So dark they mold this golden heart within

M.
May 13/15

Graduation

Graduation has a way of creeping up to you and freezing everything else… including blog posts. Now I’m back again after a wild ride. In the words of one of my very favorite teachers: Thank you for flying with us.

Graduation

Breathe deeply, breathe a sigh
And let no word distract
From your presence
– your fully being here.
Hear the wind
Breathe sighs within you
The way it holds your cries
And sweeps them out
Into the world

Sweet wind that moves the ageless trees
I know no what distraction sees
But feel an earthen heartbeat
Sway beneath your gentle breeze

You are a song
Which, in singing, we remember
And soft melodies so old
They fade to myth
Still resound in our clanging spirits,
Our hearty souls
And our growing consciousnesses

You are a songbird in these trees
I know not what the wind believes
But I am calm
And know to never let the future freeze

We never know what we will do
We are out of our minds
And into this silent world
That shouts and whispers
While all we think of
Are the embers of an end,
The soft flames licking up
Into a new beginning

M.
written Jun 13/15
photo credits: Damara Moe Photography

Fame

Listen to this story, children
This riddle:

They stake their lives
On crowds and soft cries
Put their hands on the line
Wait for the train
As the train tracks
Are a line in a line
A line within a line, I said

Guess their names, child
What are their names?
No one knows, which is sad
But the secret is
I know it of the train:
“Rumble”

Soft cries, crowds, I said
They cheer either side
Though the stakes are high
“The train is coming!”
Wild they stand and scream
For either side at the end

Screams, I said
Though I cannot describe
Those horrible screams on their faces
While blood
In thick streams
Runs down the iron rails
Sound fades
As the train Rumbles away

And the lull lasts
When the train has passed
Their hands, bruised and swollen
Lie broken and unmoving, mostly
While some are gone

“Thank you
For the sacrifice –
I know you lost and I know who won
We cheer for the train now
But thank you for the show
We bandage your hands
With kisses before you go
And I say
We salute the loss.”
They said. “We salute the loss.”

But children, know their names –
Children know my name
And remember this story
For I lost my hands for this,
For fame.

M.
written Aug 26/13 under the title “We Salute the Loss”

The Narrow Path

I wander and the world speaks not my name
I look upon the brooks, content with light
And laughter; and the sea by man untamed
Sits, and the sky though slightly marred is bright
But as the world rests I my feet urge on
In rhythms better regular than right
Still seeking, for to heaven I am drawn
Where envy, ever dark, will lose the sight
That sees the stones ahead more loved than I
And trees above my head much more content
Bright birds more blessed in their fertile sky
And beasts upstanding where my back is bent
For though this road is hard I’d rather stay
Upon the narrow path than from it stray

M.
written Jan 30/15