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Joli's Journal


Joli's Journal

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4 entries this month
 

Be Still and Listen

21:19 Jan 31 2012
Times Read: 446





Folding my words

Into a paper airplane,

I dream of cargo holds

Along its college-ruled belly

And perhaps a bomber’s bay

Where one hole-punched corner

Tucks securely beneath the wings.

Drag, roll, yaw, and pitch –check.

It’s lift that hides under my bed

With all my fanged and furry fears.

I want to talk with God

With this tangled tongue of mine

To ask Him questions

Before the sea

About the mountains leaping like rams

About the hills leaping like lambs.

Fly, words

Fly, unsettled thoughts

That dare to aim for Heaven

That dare to hope for answers

Which come.

I circle them

I rest upon them

In measurable discomfort,

Your words, shaped like rocks

That I did not ask for

Rocks that I cannot hear,

Vast, windswept,

And bound to the earth like me

Shadowed in the sunset like me

Trying to tell a story

Like me

Settled and still

Beneath a swelling whisper

As I tremble at the tale

Of your fingers dipped in rocks

That pooled about them

Like ribbons of taffy

And leapt into mountains

Like rams

And slept in the hills

Like lambs.



COMMENTS

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Vampirewitch39
Vampirewitch39
22:15 Jan 31 2012

Nice. :D Glad to see your words back, missed them.





birra
birra
22:20 Jan 31 2012

Do rocks dream of flying, or do they know someday they will when they are launched out of a volcano?



Or... perhaps they already have been and believe it to be over-rated....





Requiem
Requiem
00:46 Feb 01 2012

I love this. I love this.





 

18:04 Jan 31 2012
Times Read: 451


"In the silences, associations and connections are assembled. Nature itself, which nourishes your body and provides you with sensual experiences, may now present itself to you as symbol, and nourish your soul." - Sandford Lyne


Today I will be still...

and listen.


COMMENTS

-



 

19:18 Jan 30 2012
Times Read: 472


I haven't really come clean with you or with myself about my struggle to write lately. This is terrible commentary, but here it is...I've been too happy. I have met and married the man of my dreams who continues to amaze me day after day. My children are taking good and healthy turns in their lives. My faith and work continue to fulfill.


So...do I need misery to write well? I have decided to reject that notion out of hand. I think it was easier for me to write from that place, but I am going to challenge myself in this writing time that has become so parched of late.


I yearn to create and dance with words again, so that is where I will set my sights. I'm going to share my steps toward that goal, so come along for the ride if you're interested, or even if you share the sometimes difficult struggle to find and bridge inspiration and poetry.

Long enough have you dream'd contemptible dreams,

Now I wash the gum from your eyes,

You must habit yourself to the dazzle of the light and of every

moment of your life.


Long have you timidly waded holding a plank by the shore,

Now I will you to be a bold swimmer,

To jump off in the midst of the sea, rise again, nod to me, shout,

and laughingly dash with your hair.


- Walt Whitman, "Song of Myself"


COMMENTS

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faeriemoon
faeriemoon
19:37 Jan 30 2012

Again, words of inspiration. I too have lost my "muse of misery" life has been wonderful and I don't know how to write from there. I miss it though. I miss putting the words together and telling the story. I will find a way and make the time. Maybe the new muse is the babe growing in my tummy. :)





birra
birra
20:06 Jan 30 2012

I know the feeling. But for me it isn't usually a function of happy or misery... it is a function of solitude and emotion.



All I need to do to write more is be surrounded by nothing but strangers, alcohol and have time on my hands.





Requiem
Requiem
21:50 Jan 30 2012





I wait in joyful anticipation of your pen's return. :)





sPerAnZa
sPerAnZa
00:58 Jan 31 2012

♥ Have I told you how much you've brought joy to my heart today?



I have a faceless friend,

Her words are powerful and simple,

She brings joy with her mind and ideals,

And she has a thing for my daughter's dimples♥

Misery doesn't need a subtext,

Its not the only thing from the heart,

What better to share the music,

Then words of love and peaceful marks?



Share da looovveeee!





 

A Shade

06:16 Jan 14 2012
Times Read: 510





Compelled by the cough of an old door,

She whispers to the dim hall

Of a father 

Who sleeps in a field

And leaves her footprints

On rotting floorboards 

That cry out in the night,

But not in a voice that she seeks.

I've been caressed by her promise 

Of a new sky for us,

And a garden as green

As Emily's gauzy dream,

But she looks away from me 

When she is naked,

When the lace curtains 

Shudder against a leaking pane.

Her hand reminds me not to follow

As she pulls on a garment 

From where it lay

On the floor, forgotten

Beside me.

My love walks on her toes

Away, and I need to wake

To the paint peeling 

On clapboard walls

And the woman 

Who wears a thin blue gown,

Barefoot beneath the stars.



COMMENTS

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BLOODLIFE
BLOODLIFE
09:32 Jan 14 2012

What a way to start my day.

There is a beauty in description that you play so well.





birra
birra
15:04 Jan 14 2012

*like*



Maybe even, like-like... and junk.








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