to hang up my hang-ups
my why-am-i-heres, not-good-enoughs,
not-determined-enoughs and why
would the world need more dreamers
we talk and you keep asking, but
could you get a job with that? how
many ways to sell my heart, make it more
marketable? i’m hanging up your doubts
alongside mine and hope
i will be less inclined to explode
if i pin on this belief: here is also a way
of being content
Inspired by Hafiz, “A Coat Rack,” translated by Daniel Ladinsky
it is not that kind of exchange—
skill for skill, love for thanks
or even one small word of appreciation.
if we were all the little teapots
of the world—handle, spout,
bowl—we’d know
we were made to be held,
receive, pour
Inspired by Hafiz, “Energy in Sounds,” translated by Daniel Ladinsky
I am famous in these distractible parts
for half-sentences and thoughts un-done.
Listen: It is only a skipping ahead
past the boredom of a thing
once seen. The bloom is off, color fading
by the time it reaches your lips
Inspired by Hafiz, “Every City Is a Dulcimer,” translated by Daniel Ladinsky.
“If I ever don’t complete a sentence…”
stunned, chained—where is this cog in the great machine,
this puzzling piece in the grand design? is my part beauty,
remembering, simple love? how does beauty stand
against a landslide? how does memory shine
in a millennium’s weight of darkness? how does love open
one fist, finger by finger by finger, and then the next?
can the chain be fingers clasped, my one hand holding yours
or the children I give, having built them of love?
Inspired by Hafiz, “The Heart’s Coronation,” translated by Daniel Ladinsky.
“The pawn always sits stunned, chained,
…
there is nothing but divine movement
in this world.”
what could I teach but to give and give
and practice when you can’t preach:
put off this skin and its masks, coat, hats—
yes, even dress, shirt, pants and all the jewelry.
what is there to shine but heart?
when the birds only drink of yesterday’s rain
can we splash through the puddles, regardless?
Inspired by Hafiz, “Everything in Your Kingdom,” translated by Daniel Ladinsky.
“Borrow from your inheritance God has left for you,
…
This is the place to utilize gold,…”
1.
what leafing follows
like a river from your roots?
were you made (inevitable,
complete) or do you knit yourself
from the inside out, glorious
short-flowered, incandescent
with doubt?
2.
what light-shine sun into muddled heart?
how to grow, how to know, where to direct
this heat and soul, your doubt-seed
flowered into hard, black fruit
bitter and somehow
appealing
I wanted to do something a little different for this year’s National Poetry Month, so I made myself a journal called Yes Words to doodle some inspiration.
