Thursday, March 20, 2014

A Message

A Message

You sang a song in sixth grade choir 
and it means something

You were made an alto but could fill in as a tenor
and it means something

You sent a message to yourself in the future
by standing in front of your blue locker and thinking
hard, I will remember this time

when I rolled my shorts up so high

when I presented to the class about Hera and her peacocks

Here is how I carry my books in front of me
Here is how I walk alongside a boy
Here is how I get out of the shower to answer the yellow phone
on the wall in the kitchen
hair dripping on the hardwood floor

It worked
I can go back to that hallway
to watch

Tuesday, March 18, 2014

Do Not Run From What Is Bright and Shaking

Do Not Run From What Is Bright and Shaking

I was dazzled so I fell
And it was then that my story began
You think you are gathering flowers
but really you are preparing to fall
away from the light

The loveliest flowerfield
is a storm-rattled ship
The story begins when the movement
of the ground becomes perceptible

In the story that this world will tell about itself
love is hardly mentioned

There were humans
and their lives were driven by a desire
for meaning within bodies
And this they called love

Even now the voice is speaking
but we can’t hear it as a voice


Monday, March 17, 2014

Song of Smoke

Song of Smoke

The heavy black bird
resting on every green exit sign

With a dark wing he gestures
into the distance that you are already driving into

He will wait to be thanked

Evening of the evening
dessert of the dessert

Most beloved parts on the body of the beloved

Sensation and emotion are not the same
but they do share some wiring

Name the thing you feel
to see it rise from you

Friday, March 14, 2014

Quiet Collection

On the board in my classroom this week when I walked in....


The Dickinson Quiet Space at #AWP14 


 






















MELT!

An assortment of quiet things I've stared at in the last couple of weeks.

And you, friends? Has this week been noisy or calm?


Thursday, March 13, 2014

Fondness

Fondness

There is a place that belongs to you
No I am so sorry to tell you how untrue
this is This city is yours in the way
that a flower owns the light
Go on and feel all the fondness you want
It can’t hurt

No it can hurt
The Storialist. All rights reserved. © Maira Gall.