Trying to Keep Sane

Le cœur universel

[ravencaseypoetry]

Cloud 9

Propped up on my knees;

Liberation. An

emerald serpent, coming to

Her own essence. You,

Strong and sturdy. A support

beam of light, radiating

With intensity.

Unified by whatever the

moon is doing that night.

Together by the

Direction of the sun.

The inside of my eyelids

Are speckled with sunspots.

A delightful pattern: red,

magenta, orange.

Ah, the cobra’s dance.

Moths sink into our flesh like

Canine teeth. Tongues coil.

Flickering. Shimmering.

Red, magenta, orange-- peeling

like homegrown tangerines.

The sign says to swallow

the sunshine hard. The serpent,

elated. The beam, in all

ways, is sturdy. Yes,

a continuum of becoming.

We are grounded on

cloud nine.

[ravencaseypoetry]

How PTSD Led Me to Compassion.

Please read one of the best emotional and writerly feats of my life and career thus far. Here’s to vulnerability. 

[ravencaseypoetry]

like an air tight car ride with everyone’s hearts stretched like seran wrap, vulnerability is in pecking order: the orphan, the bastard child and her brother, who only has half of her blood and technically none of the orphan’s. the bastard lets her bird fly off her chest like she’s skipping stones because rage and a dismal landscape offer nothing. the air, like cheesecloth now, hangs so tight breath is obsolete even with gaps between their mouths.

Raven Casey, "Care Package"

[lifeinpoetry]

Even when I’m dead, I’ll swim through the earth like a mermaid of the soil, just to be next to your bones.

Jeffrey McDaniel, from “The Archipelago of Kisses,” Splinter Factory (via lifeinpoetry)

[ravencaseypoetry]

Freedom, etc.

It whispers its name like a big, fat, fucking brand-name. Hissing some kind of a wonderful like a weeping willow would if he could. I'm stuck in snow up to my waist and though I'm waiting, I'm glad the trucks cannot splash on me. I'm not free, but I'm clean. That's good enough, right?

[ruralcity-blog]

but ‘wait’ is the catchword of those who can afford the luxury of caution patience is the bartering tool of those who know their time at the helm is numbered they use it for stalling/stonewalling against the free fall of an already avalanching eventuality

Staceyann Chin (via ruralcity)

[writingsforwinter]

In June when you moved to New York, I Skyped you

every day from my bed at the crack of dawn, bleary-eyed

and still waking up, just so I could catch you before

you went to sleep. Sometimes our cat, Patrick,

stuck his head in the frame and meowed at your image,

licking the screen just like I...

[writingsforwinter]

My second poetry book, Healing Old Wounds With New Stitches, can be purchased through etsy as a digital copy for only $4.50.

I’m using all sales for my college tuition. :)

A holiday gift idea perhaps?

[ravencaseypoetry]

There is something so, deeply sad about a small, plywood coffin. The opportunity it was filled with, gone.

[ravencaseypoetry]

A prompt

Two socked feet, one lit candle, two broken branches, four baby feathers.

  One lit candle flaps despite the wind, two socked feet echo the silent sounds of screaming thoughts, two broken branches crunch under no one’s feet, four baby feathers brush against the wall

  Ah-bay-say-hay-loo-mink-tunn

  The eventual green of the socked feet turn toward the honey colored candle. Two broken branches sit in their grey as the four baby feathers maroon in delight.

[ravencaseypoetry]

I've had days where my soul is on her knees. Some days like that, she begged and prayed with cupped hands and empty eyes. Other days, she slumped over and felt every street person walk by.

I've had days where my soul is jumping up and down - maybe off of cliffs or out of trees. Or maybe just over cracks in the sidewalk.

[ravencaseypoetry]

Tiny gold things hang from the belly of her mouth as states of being.

--Raven, "Haiku for the Sacred"

[ravencaseypoetry]

tiny gold things + little states of being

[ravencaseypoetry]

Rousings 1:

I've been thinking a lot about freedom lately. I've been internally weighing happiness versus freedom. Objectively, I'm pretty damn free: without parents, without child... I'm exploring the leaves that scatter on the ground like a bag of skittles and I'm exploring loneliness as a means to creativity and productivity. I'm exploring what freedom is. Bound by a limiting job and societal expectations, I'm caged... but since I'm okay with most of those cages (or just okay with the fact that I will pry them open soon enough), I'm free. To be free is to think it. And I think I'd take freedom over happiness, any day.

"Freedom is what you do with what's been done to you." -Jean-Paul Sartre

[seabois]

It does not matter if you are a rose or a lotus or a marigold. What matters is that you are flowering

Osho  (via owls-love-tea)

[ravencaseypoetry]

A yellow welcome

[ravencaseypoetry]

Transparent warrior