Well, they’re about being dirty, okay?? Spring is coming here and everyting is sopping wet and muddy. Between that and the pottery, dirty is the word of the season.
I spent a summer chasing frogs,
Neck deep in stinking muck.
The canoe abandoned on the pond,
I, seeking gold, struggled through the swamp waters;
The golden eyes breaking the still smooth mirror
Till suddenly nervous they slid fast away.
The Earth in our hands becomes a Living thing
Wet, sticky and slick, twisting under skin,
Waiting to be drawn up and danced with
as throughout human history.
It will tell the tale longer than we imagine,
Bearing mark of hand and impression of warriors
In red and brown and black and white.
Our history in the earth we are.
Spiral into the center, to where the earth meets the wheel
Stick fast and ground wet roots
Before centrifugality tears you edge from center
Gather center down, strong, sticky and dense
So when the pressure comes, you will rise like a sculpture.
As the water that parts a curtain
around the river rock
Or the wind that whispers
compliments in the grass’s hair.
The leaf falls at its time,
to let through the beauty of the tree;
The rivers flow to the ocean
because it is lower than they are.
Alright, I’m finally starting to think I should look into submitting some of my poetry somewhere, but have no idea about how to do that in a non-doomed way. What are your favorites of my work? You can get an overview of relevant posts by clicking the “poetry” tag in the metadata block at the top of the post… If you have any comments on the concept, please let me know!