one of the myths behind why i do not spend enough time creating things is that my office is too cluttered and therefore not a functional workspace. it is my goal in the next couple of weeks to make my office less cluttered. the main motive behind this goal is that my mother will be living in here for a month in august. but i figure i will ultimately benefit by having a less distracting workspace once it's all mine again. it's tough having an office that is also a linen closet, a house overflow bin and a guest room. but i guess it's better than not having an office at all.
well so the other day -- may 30th to be exact -- while i was cleaning things out and rearranging i came across a bunch of folders full of poems that someone might notice once i'm dead. a poem was sticking out of one of the folders so i pulled it out and read it. the date of the poem was may 30th, 2005, exactly one year ago to that day. to commemorate the passing of the year (+) i will print the poem here. it is not my best work but it brings back happy memories of dancing late into the night with good friends while tending to an herb garden by day.
Arrival
she is alive
barefoot in full skirt and blazing
a spindle
a candle
she is rattling rib cage
pounding at toes
bunching hair into tossed locks
she is whispering
feel this now
give this now
bring it bring it
hips and brain might
miscommunicate
yet heart knows
the beat
motherwort and hawthorn
nurture pulse and pump
make sure
pulp is plump
she is writ on parchment
coiled and golden
incessant code
engulfed by wide
folds of fine
arms rise
ripple of starlight
dawn give forth slice of citrus
moon massage knit brow
tusillago farfara
announces
fresh season
all souls bask
tipped chin
asks of tentative climate
a seedpod's wish
drawn to stream of her song
thatch thumps
gesture for gesture
nettle initiates sting
dinner at daylight
landscape of skin
thicket
-- Zoe Krylova 5.30.05
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