Lost Poems: Carpenter

Carpenter

If I made something with my hands
I am afraid a sloppy carpenter I would make
trying to hammer hay into gold
only pounding away to mulch,
digging out the foundations
when I can not afford the concrete.

So I will stare at the prayer nailed to the door,
missing its hinges,
reading Rilke's:

      Because One Man wanted so much to have you,
      I know that we can all want you.

~ Written by me, Annette, in the Spring of 2003


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We Have Been Called

We have been called
   naïve
as if it were
a dirty word
We have been called
   innocent
as though with shame
our cheeks should burn
So
We visited with
the careful idols
of cynicism
to learn to sneer
and pant and walk
   so as not to feel the scales
   of judgment rub wrongly
But we say
   some things must
   remain simple
   some things must remain
   untouched
   and pure
lest we all forget
the legacy which begot us
the health of our origins
the poetry of our fundamental selves

And so
it is to
the longing hearts we sing
rise! spread
your wings!
Let no hand
nor ill will
keep you.

~Published by Jewel, "a night without armor" in 1998

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Lost Poems: girl

Shabby stings, of blonde hair,
ends colored as if dipped in honey,

               f

               a

               l

               l

down the grape blouse,
sleeves pulled over to hide half of her hands,


                      fingers exposed.


Hands rocking back and forth,
left fingernails torn between the teeth,
the right, cradling,
     perched
outside the mouth for its turn.


Those melancholy sage eyes
nestled in mottled skin
watch
the glassy figure in reflection.

~ Annette
Written in the Spring of 2003.

Listen

Listen.  It's the word that is centering me these days.  An intention, a resolution of sorts.  To pause, to listen inward.  I have ambitions great and small for this new year, 2015. Some will be met and achieved, others will fall away unrealized.  But that's okay.  The most important thing for me this year is to listen. Let's see what happens.

Listen!

Do you hear it?
I do.
I can feel it.
I expect a miracle is coming.
It has set loose this restlessness
inside of me.

Expect it.
Dream about it.
Give birth to it in your being.
Know! Something good
is coming down the line.
Finding its way to you
like all things find their way
to God's children.

Listen!

- "Miracle" by Jewel Kilcher