Monthly Archives: January 2014

the most badass and kind family i have ever met and the land they are fighting to defend

IMG_1347

IMG_1417

IMG_1350

IMG_1588

IMG_1595

IMG_1649

IMG_1646

IMG_1629

IMG_1626

Advertisements

Leave a comment

Filed under daily practice, poems, poetry, process, writing

dear readers,

i am ecuador-bound. for three weeks.

this will be my longest break from the detail collector. (i’m going to attempt to keep up the practice analog-style. how or when these details will get sifted into the digital world, i am unsure of.)

during this digital absence, i can only hope you’ll be out there collecting your own details.

x and o from under the same sky,

F

a link to a little bit about the struggle against the oil companies invading the ecuadorian amazon.
and an image for feasting:

800px-VilcabambaEcuador(vilacabamba, ecuador)

2 Comments

Filed under daily practice, poems, poetry, writing

heroes in the seaweed

blades shaving ruts into too-soft ice
we skate it anyway
long as we can
stan holding aurelia’s hand holding my hand holding emory’s as he
whips us around
and cracks it
_______

fueled on blueberry chocolate
dinner comes together like this:
roots roasting on top rack (sweet potatoes, butternut squash, beets, potatoes)
while crackers bake on the bottom racks
chimichurri foodprocessed first
carrot butter foodprocessed second
with a swish-of-water rinse in between
and the part in that nina simone cover of suzanne
And she shows you where to look
Among the garbage and the flowers
There are heroes in the seaweed
There are children in the morning
They are leaning out for love
And they will lean that way forever
which always makes me want to do something like cry
even though i heard the song at least once a week for a while
it never lost its punch
and i love that i can’t quite really tell what it is that makes me feel that way about that part of the song
but i think it is a little bit about how her voice lifts
the rest of the song up and over an impossible hill
on the word heroes
(and when i hear that word in her voice
i imagine the heroes
as streetliving and typically overlooked/unsung)

_______

a snowstorm so instant
that the play-by-play goes like this:
first, i am ringing the dinner bell
then i walk in the dark to the coop to shut the chickens in for the night (windy, but nothing else)
then, as i walk back to the house, all of a sudden the open air has been replaced
by wet flakes whipping down
(not quite hail, but not quite snow either)

_______

have you ever had a crush on a literary character
stan asks at dinner

_______

what the water gives / what the water takes :

Screen shot 2014-01-17 at 12.31.56 AM
Cars are seen on top of each after being hit by flood waters in Manado. At least 13 people were killed when overnight flash floods and landslides hit Indonesia’s Sulawesi island. – bbc, day in photos

F71D2DAB-7E4B-4099-95E8-54B9EF03EB4A_w974_n_s
Kei Nishikori of Japan holds an ice pack to his face during a men’s singles match against Dusan Lajovic of Serbia at the Australian Open 2014 tennis tournament in Melbourne. Organizers have been slammed for forcing players to play in searing temperatures. – voice of america, day in photos

88760DAD-19F8-4F09-8B6C-3F4B00C81194_w974_n_s
Condensation droplets are seen on a window in Irsee, Germany. – voice of america, day in photos

697FFDF8-F64F-4CCB-9679-CA49E063747B_w974_n_s
A Hindu devotee takes a ritual shower before he starts his pilgrimage to the sacred Batu Caves Temple during Thaipusam festival outside Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia. Thousands of Hindus participate in the annual thanksgiving festival in which devotees subject themselves to painful rituals in a demonstration of faith and penance held in honor of Lord Subramaniam. – voice of america, day in photos

 

 

Leave a comment

Filed under daily practice, poems, poetry, writing

drenched in sky

we talk about the toppled walnut
and how the small-mill people a few towns over
will still leave a tree in their yard
because isn’t it just beautiful?
(while this might sound like it’s coming off as sarcasm
it’s not)
_______

depressing the power-pedal
under my right foot as
hot pink stitches zig and zag

_______
i swear i saw the lioness in this sky
(and felt myself burst alive underneath it):
IMG_1242

_______

not sure what
but something about that moon
moving beyond the barelimb branches
and its silver spill
waterfalling over the tops of our heads
our shoulders
down our backs
we come in for dinner
drenched in skyblessing

_______

table cloth draped
and silverware wrapped in cloth napkins
emory’s handwriting
on the paper-scrap menu
_______

an attempt to lounge
on the unloungeable brokeback couch/futon
while calling out uno,
reversing the circle
draw-twoing
and skipping turns

_______

i lay my voice down
like a body
across wire
strung between here and there

_______

from the churning of the water world:

D4A834B6-DE5F-4A98-BEA0-ECF896BA5DFB_w974_n_s
Residents use an improvised cable car to reach relief goods on the other side of rampaging river after a non-stop downpour flooded New Bataan town, Compostela province, southern Philippines, Jan. 14, 2014. – voice of america, day in photos

Leave a comment

Filed under daily practice, poems, poetry, writing

everything else is just wind

maybe with the manatees and osprey
with a champagne toast lifted to the sunset
i send a glimmering too
across the water
_______

and everything else is just wind
how it lifts ceiling tiles
which aren’t even really tiles
just pink foam covering a thing that used to be a vent
how it sweeps up the road
with a fury
louder than a train car
(gusts at 26 mph)
how it is a presence
full and everywhere
how it turns a place i have become so accustomed to
into a new beast
(as if someone you are almost always used to seeing in a certain uniform
changes their clothes and because of that
you almost don’t recognize them)

_______

i don’t remember the details
but the broadcast was about a toxic spill
and thousands of people unable to drink the water
and a CEO or some other representative
sipping bottled water at a press conference
(in this case
i don’t even think the details matter
we’ve seen this before)

_______

how i almost forget to close the coop
and when i do remember
the sky is already so dark
i panic thinking possums

Leave a comment

Filed under daily practice, poems, poetry, writing

mistaking the deathsqueal

in the dream
they overcharged me for an underwhelming play
and starbird and i lost each other upon entering the dark and complicated theater
of adjacent balconies and
scattered sections
where halfway through the show i found myself waking
from an accidental curling into sleep
with the stranger next to me
(stranger who seemed like someone i knew
stranger who curled back)
_______

pumpkin dutch baby (for a farewell morning)
puffing up golden at 350 degrees
before receiving sprinkles of
sugar and lemon juice
_______

emory mistakes the deathsqueal
of a rabbit (in a dog’s mouth)
for chicken squawks of distress

_______

at least three different sounds of wind
i say from the treehouse perch
1. the kind that’s high above us
2. the kind that moves through the branches
3. the kind that hits our ears

_______

one cup of rice
four cups of water
chopped and swirled on low in the blender
before adding cinnamon
vanilla
and splash of milk
for horchata to accompany
two-pan chilequiles

_______

it makes me feel like fuck you
and thank you/i’m honored

all at the same time i tell mica at the kitchen sink
regarding runner-up status
_______
at 61 degrees
we fling open the windows that aren’t winter-sealed
a mix of marvel and unease
considering last week’s subzero degrees

_______

how putting the chickens in for the night
is a little bit about the chickens
and a lot about the walk between the coop and wherever i am coming from
just after dusk
and tonight, it’s like this:
a smooth and even coating of quiet
(sometimes, moving through quiet spaces kicks up the dust of noise
a swirling of sound
but not tonight amongst this snowmelt and slick-ice
not tonight under streaks of sky
backlit by moon
tonight this balmy air cannot be rattled)

Leave a comment

Filed under daily practice, poems, poetry, writing

thaw

IMG_1167

IMG_1189

_______

followed by a lionel richie after-dinner playlist

Leave a comment

Filed under daily practice, poems, poetry, writing