Relics can be Bones that held Together, exoskeleton: A camera initiated In the summer of hate A serving tray bought In Town - You visited with Your daughter The thermos you drank Tea in, with ritual like it was the Body of Christ, containing wine, mixed with Your blood Relics can be old CD towers, … Continue reading Particle
death
Midnight Calls
My body is fragile Crack me open at the seam in my Ribcage, like a damp wafer – watch the strawberry blood cake in exposed air. How many midnight calls, and dinnertime Interruptions can a heart take before the valves wear thin And the tell tale tingle moves up my arm? Doctor’s orders: I can’t … Continue reading Midnight Calls
What Else?
When you're 27 and your friends are 78, or 82 - you either Accept your fate: Your friends are going to die, or What Else? This is the only Truth that persists: You are young and people die. And your death doesn't matter, so much. It's not that - it's this: It will never make … Continue reading What Else?
Dying
When it's my time I want to know: what it feels like There are opportunities for second chances, but this isn't one. I want to know what it was like, before the morphine drip, dripping And the rockabye easing out I woke up in the world screaming What is it like to end?
do not take
The earth moves Did you know? It pulses with intention. Birds free fall in aerial feats The hive hums The dry leaves whisper their ancient chant And we, We move, too Building, working, fighting, dreaming - not always with intention. But noise, always noise. The earth knows - do you? Our performative toiling is Being, a … Continue reading do not take
untitled
Let me die in the summertime by a window, with the warmth, pushing through the fragile skin of my eyelids Let me die in a quiet room; with the tea kettle on in the kitchen and the laundry spinning, pulsing like blood through beating hearts. Let me die with a cat at my feet and … Continue reading untitled
two post it notes
Someday, when the world begins to darken, I'll walk in the silence of early morning, peering into empty shops with cataract gray eyes And I'll remember being young, moving fast, skin smooth like a new bar of soap, and wondering when I would make it. I'll know then, there is no making it. Child, you're … Continue reading two post it notes
a poem for Advent
Light of Christ She held it cupped in her wrinkled palms, across her lifeline, it burned And fragmented and grew. She peered in, squinting hard, Hands to nose Stars igniting in her eyes. She clenched it then, tightly Pushed it away with the force of her now elongated arm, like a sigh, or fainting, or … Continue reading a poem for Advent
Leah Wise 