Kisses Mourning Doves Tucson, AZ January 2020
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Kisses Mourning Doves Tucson, AZ January 2020
The stages of bruise healing
Carta a mi madre para mi hijo (2022), dir. Carla Simón
no importa lo qe pase (n tiempo o circunstancias, ) no importa cuánto progrese porque siempre d una forma u otra termino cayendo ; insoportable y resistente es la desesperación con la qe mi depresion persiste sin importarle los días qe no duermo sola , o qe solo puedo conciliar el sueño en sí , los dias en qe hago algo aunq sea tan mínimo como barrer . las mañanas son tortuosas si empiezan a las cinco o a las nueve o a las doce del mediodía y sólo busco consuelo en los recuerdos donde me ahogaba en mi propio vómito por saber qe estaba llena de algo que salía de mí misma .. ahora todo se siente tan ajeno de mí como la sombra de mi propio cuerpo. tengo qe aceptar y aprendr a vivir cn el hecho d qe siempre va dstar soplándome la nuca ,ahi atrás d mi oreja cuando m desvanezco n mi cama tras días d no poder conseguir energia p tomar un vaso d agua o en el frenesi d tomar un pase porq nunca puedo escapar d este desbalance
journal entry/personal manifesto
Frank O’Hara, from Selected Poems; “Adieu to Norman, Bon Jour to Joan and Jean-Paul”
[Text ID: the only thing to do is simply continue / is that simple / yes, it is simple because it is the only thing to do / can you do it / yes, you can because it is the only thing to do]
By the highway, out on the edge of town
A little tulip heart my dad planted for my mom in their garden :’)
i feel next time i get hugged (if ever) i will simply melt or disintegrate into the other person's arms. every day that goes by without feeling the warmth of human connection, this solace, it gets more and more unbearably painful. the particles in my body would —or will, if i'm being optimistic— not be able to handle it. i hold on dearly to my cells cause if i was them i would not want to be here anymore. they'll merge into someone else's
wow this will never change. the years go by and here i still am, being the only one listening to my pleadings, to not be lonely anymore. but it is the only way i know to be, the only way it could be
not sure if anyone is interested in this but here is a list of the most joyfully vital poems I know :)
You're the Top by Ellen Bass
Grand Fugue by Peter E. Murphy
Our Beautiful Life When It's Filled with Shrieks by Christopher Citro
Everything Is Waiting For You by David Whyte
Lawrence Ferlinghetti Is Alive! by Emily Sernaker
Instructions for Assembling the Miracle by Peter Cooley
Barton Springs by Tony Hoagland
Footnote to Howl by Allen Ginsberg
Song of the Open Road by Walt Whitman
Tomorrow, No, Tomorrower by Bradley Trumpfheller
At Last the New Arriving by Gabrielle Calvocoressi
To a Self-Proclaimed Manic Depressive Ex-Stripper Poet, After a Reading by Jeannine Hall Gailey
In the Presence of Absence by Richard Widerkehr
Chillary Clinton Said 'We Have to Bring Them to Heal' by Cortney Lamar Charleston
Midsummer by Charles Simic
Today by Frank O'Hara
Naturally by Stephen Dunn
Life is Slightly Different Than You Think It Is by Arthur Vogelsang
Ode to My Husband, Who Brings the Music by Zeina Hashem Beck
The Imaginal Stage by D.A. Powell
Lucky Life by Gerald Stern
Beginner's Lesson by Malcolm Alexander
Presidential Poetry Briefing by Albert Haley
A Poem for Uncertainties by Mark Terrill
On Coming Home by Lisa Summe
G-9 by Tim Dlugos
Five Haiku by Billy Collins
The Fates by David Kirby
Upon Receiving My Inheritance by William Fargason
Variation on a Theme by W. S. Merwin
Easy as Falling Down Stairs by Dean Young
Psalm 150 by Jericho Brown
Pantoum for Sabbouha by Zeina Hashem Beck
ASMR by Corey Van Landingham
A Welcome by Joanna Klink
From Blossoms by Li-Young Lee
At Church, I Tell My Mom She’s Singing Off-Key and She Says, by Michael Frazier
Horse Girl, Joy Sullivan
i love finding heart shapes everywhere
Photo by Roger Keeton