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Joli's Journal


Joli's Journal

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PROFILE




17 entries this month
 

Irony's Gate

07:12 Nov 28 2008
Times Read: 839


Irony, you are invited across the threshold and into my mind. Not so very much going on in here lately, but because I love you, my disjointed thoughts are yours:





Such arrogance. If fences could speak,

They'd sound like every bully ever known,

Physical presences empty of truth.


Tend your garden. Build your house.

"Good fences make good neighbors."

What do excellent fences make?


Cage that bird. Keep out. Keep in.

White picket, barbed wire

And the neighbor's boxwood hedges.


You are an illusion and a temporary lie.


Beneath the soil, there are no fences

To hinder the trees

As they stretch their roots lazily


To hinder the burrowing animals

As they tunnel quietly,

Blissfully unaware that the earth is owned.




COMMENTS

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Irony
Irony
07:44 Nov 28 2008

You made me cry:) Ask Occam, he gets to hear me sniffling right now. I love your words and I now have a beautiful image of cool roots stretching their way under the soil. For some reason this has really taken my mind off my painy legs, I now have tree roots instead. Thank you for sharing your words and your heart with me. It means more than you know.





BLOODLIFE
BLOODLIFE
08:18 Nov 28 2008

My envy needs to be checked. How well you tease.





placidchaos
placidchaos
13:59 Nov 28 2008

Even though this is for Irony, I too appreciate this. Every poem of yours that I've read has resonated with some part of me. Beautiful. Thank you.





 

PRIVATE ENTRY

07:22 Nov 25 2008
Times Read: 857


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PRIVATE ENTRY

05:58 Nov 24 2008
Times Read: 883


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PRIVATE ENTRY

05:57 Nov 24 2008
Times Read: 884


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PRIVATE ENTRY

05:55 Nov 24 2008
Times Read: 886


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PRIVATE ENTRY

05:47 Nov 24 2008
Times Read: 888


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PRIVATE ENTRY

05:44 Nov 24 2008
Times Read: 889


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PRIVATE ENTRY

05:41 Nov 24 2008
Times Read: 890


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PRIVATE ENTRY

05:37 Nov 24 2008
Times Read: 893


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PRIVATE ENTRY

17:52 Nov 23 2008
Times Read: 895


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PRIVATE ENTRY

08:51 Nov 23 2008
Times Read: 898


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19:45 Nov 10 2008
Times Read: 1,041


I have edited this post after receiving some questions.


Yes, I'm sorry that I was unclear. The Exhalations section will remain here for now, but I just won't be updating it with poetry any longer. It really has been a pleasure writing for you all these past two years.


Thank you to everyone who was such an encouragement to me. You'll never know how grateful I am :)


COMMENTS

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Joli
Joli
03:20 Nov 18 2008

For all who posted here, thank you. I accidentally deleted your comments. I'm thinking over your words. I am. For Irony, alone, I would write. Making her smile would be enough for anyone.





Irony
Irony
17:57 Nov 18 2008

Älskar dig mitt hjärta:)





Irony
Irony
05:37 Nov 28 2008

Now I am looking longingly at all the new private posts and wondering what treasures are inside. You realise I am probably going to ask you for a long poetry reading next time I get you to myself on the phone? :P





 

Still Within Me

01:09 Nov 09 2008
Times Read: 1,079





The wind chimes are sounding at my window

Like the bells of St. Rosalie, calling my name;

And the stillness within urges my answer

Past today where soup fed the poor,

Beyond yesterday's little blond daughters

Snuggled greedily and warmly against me

For the great war cry Rikk-tikk-tikki-tikki-tchk,

And back to play yards and classrooms

Where the Holy Order Of Dominican Sisters

Wore their authority like an auto de fé,

Ever in session through the hallway

Crowded with youth and happiness

Which would make apostates of us all.

God, I recall the smell of Catholicism -

Poor is the man who has never breathed

Within a Catholic church, beeswax candles

And spicy smoke from the censer,

That swung from a chain which clanked softly

In time to a Salesian chant while I drowsed

And the clanking became boats far from my pew,

Fishing boats docked and hoisted in the air

Where they swung like the censer

And worshipful men cleaned and painted

Their vessels which smelled to me like life.

The smell of boats still makes me cry,

An honest scent of salt and man,

Net and sweat beneath the clanking mast

So like the windchimes at my window

Where all is still within, save the memories

In my weary mind and the steady breaths

Of the good boy whose tail is also still

Where he dreams his own dreams,

Snuggled greedily and warmly beside me.

COMMENTS

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birra
birra
02:37 Nov 09 2008

Beautiful... as always.



There is nothing else that smells like a Catholic church, is there? And they all seem to smell the same...





ThothLestat
ThothLestat
16:20 Nov 09 2008

I like this.





Wilder
Wilder
19:53 Nov 10 2008

nice





Nightgame
Nightgame
12:41 Nov 12 2008

Lovely, even landlocked as I am, I could hear the sounds of boats at the dock.





 

PRIVATE ENTRY

17:09 Nov 06 2008
Times Read: 1,101


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PRIVATE ENTRY

06:59 Nov 06 2008
Times Read: 1,111


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Netting Suns and Moons and River Jewels

21:28 Nov 05 2008
Times Read: 1,138


Along the banks of rivers

In the early morning hours

When sun and moon

Are sleepy neighbors yet,

I have watched the fishermen

Casting into the sky, their nets

Resembling dragonfly wings

Where they weave silhouettes

Against the light,

A suspended, magical sigh.

Water beads imbued with flight

Scatter like jewels

Sacrificed to heaven.


And I wonder in that moment

If some of the sky is netted

And sent down into the deep,

Where the moonlit morn

May swim in a freshwater world

Alive, and newly reborn

In the shades of daysong.

The nets give and the nets take.

Straining winches creak along

Attuned to God and grace

While the muscled arms of men

Struggle beneath the bounty

Of River's morning embrace.


COMMENTS

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birra
birra
23:51 Nov 05 2008

The real jewels are how you paint pictures so visible to the mind's eye...





Babaganoosh
Babaganoosh
05:33 Nov 06 2008

I am in love with your journal. Your writing is stunning. It truly is.





StoneCrow
StoneCrow
16:06 Nov 14 2008

Boy this sure brought me back to castnetting in a whole new way, thank you Jo.





 

Where Bastions are Blankets

19:12 Nov 05 2008
Times Read: 1,155





I have woven my favorite words

Into a warm and flowing shawl

To drape across my shoulders,

Soft against my cheek.

Love words spoken in hushed tones

To flutter the tummy and flush the face,

Poetry that has watered my parched soul.


Every word I have ever loved,

Wrapped around my vulnerable flesh

And the breakable bones and heart

I must present to the world.

But if only I have around me my words,

Woven more intricately than any maille,

What power has the world over me?


COMMENTS

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BLOODLIFE
BLOODLIFE
19:18 Nov 05 2008

I think I will enjoy November in this section.





birra
birra
23:50 Nov 05 2008

Beautiful... well stated self-portrait in words.



I *sigh* over your skills... I can only hope to stand in your light some day...








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