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nina
Mad poet sensualist, overly fond of banjo, single mama city-girl living in a small town watching the boats go by.
Recent Activity
Note: This final poem of the month is composed of the last lines from the other poems that I wrote during November. I didn't even need to use my teeth spiders hidden underneath comfort this is when I know (I) will be turned to stone applause never meant a thing.... Continue reading
Posted Nov 30, 2018 at nina turns 50
When I got divorced it was my mother who cried herself to sleep. Nobody wants to grow up to be an old lady. Venus won't cross my path again this year. I think of Ada and her lady horses; I think of Joni and her constant stranger. What was that... Continue reading
Posted Nov 29, 2018 at nina turns 50
The nest isn't empty, the nest is falling apart, the nest is a void, the void is unavoidable, the sacrifice imperative, the scars internal, the mistakes still take the breath, the newly feral heart hot and hungry, a starving cat, patience wasted on circumstance, tenderness spent like coins pressed into... Continue reading
Posted Nov 28, 2018 at nina turns 50
The goddess of love is busy deflecting tear gas canisters. The goddess of love needs to lie down. The goddess of love can't remember the last time she had sushi that tasty. The goddess of love would really rather not bother with the dishes. The goddess of love has spiders... Continue reading
Posted Nov 27, 2018 at nina turns 50
Rough voiced men with gentle hands fingertips split like ripe grapes traced a line of blood along your thigh, your own blood dried by now, the iron taste still at the back of your throat: salt-thirst and the dull thud of memory. "Here," you tell them, "no here," and they... Continue reading
Posted Nov 26, 2018 at nina turns 50
The spider, she cannot know me except by the threat I impose when I try to scoop her safely on a sheet of white paper out of my bathtub so I can shower. I wash the dishes sharpen the knives sort the laundry darks from whites inside my borrowed house... Continue reading
Posted Nov 25, 2018 at nina turns 50
Each morning when I look upon the sky Bright Venus is the light I hope to see I could not even try and tell you why I crane my neck and send my gaze up high Beneath my breath I send a quiet plea Each morning when I look upon... Continue reading
Posted Nov 25, 2018 at nina turns 50
Learn to be lost now/learn to shattered. —Gabriel Kahane, from Baedeker Last night it was Christmas ships, boats lit up on the water blasting seasonal music from their on-board speakers, creating light trails on the dark crescents that oscillate on the surface of Lake Washington, a line of them, one... Continue reading
Posted Nov 24, 2018 at nina turns 50
This morning I drove before dawn to the home of my dear friend to give thanks, cook duck and Brussels sprouts sauteed in butter, and as I rounded the corner to cross over the bridge at the Hood Canal there she was, Venus, in a new piece of the sky,... Continue reading
Posted Nov 23, 2018 at nina turns 50
Venus, ball of gas hostile to all living things sends pinpricks of joy shivering through my mornings hundreds of millions of miles. Continue reading
Posted Nov 21, 2018 at nina turns 50
I was foolish to think that poetry could save me, save anyone. Certainly not the birds or the ginkgo trees. I bought a happy light, though. That's not even a euphemism, that's the brand name. So you can buy happiness after all, as long as you sit in front of... Continue reading
Posted Nov 20, 2018 at nina turns 50
of the Paris Agreement begins. The author teams selected from these lists will build an a Assessment, around the outlines agreed for the three Working Group contributions in September. Working Group I will cover observations, of the changing state of the climate system, an assessment of human influence, near-term predictability... Continue reading
Posted Nov 19, 2018 at nina turns 50
She cuts off his head. His head is full of luxuriant curls not unlike Medusa's snakes. She can feel the air on her nipples as she pulls the blade from its scabbard. It is heavy and all the world gleams along its edge. She will cleave the head off the... Continue reading
Posted Nov 18, 2018 at nina turns 50
now the moon, large and pale bland, familiar, implacable how did we come to think the world was ours for the taking and all the other worlds like disposable razors Continue reading
Posted Nov 17, 2018 at nina turns 50
Dark clouds across the morning sky, the Doug fir barely discernible, Venus nowhere to be found, her sparkle obscured by circumstance and there's your poetic metaphor right there. Do with it what you will. We can believe whatever we choose to and where's the sacrifice in that? I have created... Continue reading
Posted Nov 16, 2018 at nina turns 50
[I'm going to cheat a bit today and post something I wrote in July.] To move quickly like a lizard on a whitewashed wall. To not care which way is up. To eat crumbs off the concrete floor brushing soft snout against cool surface, searching. To be invited to sit... Continue reading
Posted Nov 15, 2018 at nina turns 50
Even in the storm, Venus rising behind the tall Doug fir across the street and it's a small thing to hold onto, one distant planet, reflecting sunlight: evidence of the long game, indifference, physics and a receptacle for all the meaning we want to project onto it. but I'll take... Continue reading
Posted Nov 14, 2018 at nina turns 50
The Seattle Symphony wants me back. The violins are pining for me, the bassoons haven't played in tune since I left, and the cymbal, well the cymbal refuses to be polished, much less banged together with its mate. The conductor is distracted by his side project with that string quartet... Continue reading
Posted Nov 13, 2018 at nina turns 50
Venus again, impossibly bright in the pink-brushed morning. Goddess of love smile down upon me now in the dark days of November, take away the trickle of despair, runoff from the frozen lake of my heart. Change me into a nuthatch, let me forage and fly, free me from this... Continue reading
Posted Nov 12, 2018 at nina turns 50
The stones rattle, the shade is hot like sunlight. Pieces of the bluff skitter down to the beach. Swallows swoop and dodge as you walk a large field of long grass that used to be a military parade ground and is now a state park. Blue water below seems deeper... Continue reading
Posted Nov 11, 2018 at nina turns 50
Morning sun through glass illuminates the places I have yet to clean. Continue reading
Posted Nov 10, 2018 at nina turns 50
It all begins with a breath, the diaphragm pulling down and creating a vacuum in the bronchial passageways into which air will flow. Limbs and airways and capillaries all get smaller the more they fractal outward and weren't you surprised when you learned your lungs weren't like empty balloons but... Continue reading
Posted Nov 9, 2018 at nina turns 50
I squish tiny sugar ants with my fingers, dozens of them as they make their way across my desk to some piece of yesterday's lunch I dropped there. Where is the Buddha in me that wants to do no harm? This morning I looked out at the dark sky and... Continue reading
Posted Nov 8, 2018 at nina turns 50
I get junk mail from the Neptune society now which is at least a couple of notches more upsetting than the recruitment solicitations from the AARP which are merely annoying considering I can't afford to retire. I will, for sure, die though. My parents now have their urns which they... Continue reading
Posted Nov 7, 2018 at nina turns 50
riding in the car on the way to the ferry singing Bradbury my son next to me (his voice so much better than mine) this is when I know Continue reading
Posted Nov 6, 2018 at nina turns 50