A Braid of Frost and Felt

A previously joint project in experimental conjoined creativity...perhaps it will wander back there someday..right now it is what it is, somewhat solo...mostly poems and pictures...occasionally wandering into my interests in Houdini, Lewis Carroll, keys, time, birth and many more of the odd explorations that make me, well me

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midwives say your body is not a lemon…and i believe them

here, the lemons lie in groups you can gather

five for one dollar, or two

with neighborhoods, paces and blocks removed

holding baskets of yellow, all citrus and seeds

i walk past, wanting more

and instead fall from the gathering of suns into the arms of one

happens

happening

it just happened

i was searching citrus and then

streets crossed, times crossed, paths crossed

and just like that

arms crossed, into layers crossing

hands in hands in hands, to sudden spin

all impulse and grin

a holding, placed into the together traction

the unplan of this motion, this embrace

all laughter and light upon my face

a dance through the displacement

layers of differences and directions

of intentions, set aside

lifting smiles with

energy turned and traced and held

an equality of turning, a balancing of bodies

all focus and resolve, as we revolve

swirling

a sidewalk is not a place for this unguarded twirling

though it is

and the people scatter out, not a glance to spare

they hardly care what it’s about, that we are there

just now, somehow

and pause

to share in a re-gathering of sidewalk-drifting-lemons

continue on

to talk with words and invitations

so sudden and steady, fingers found resting on pulses, ready

all arms and hands and shared spaces

block to block of neighboring paces

approaching apartments and intersections

we hold ourselves by and through

to a doorstep, a bell, a key

turns

turning

it just turned

to inside, to steps, to narrowed compartments

inviting, come up and see me

make lemonade a little enticingly

a little too tart

to gather our own sweetness

to match this sudden start

and, through seeds and undissolved sugar

you say, it is just right

…and i believe you

by, earthboundpixie

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from the ground and up

just when i want to look up

the clouds have rolled out, spread out

covering and becoming the sky

the moon, blanketed beneath, behind

all shadow murky, burgundy

from the crossing of heavenly bodies

or hearts, or times

in skies

and earthly bodies and minds

those clouds are heavy with drink

and will pour down in rapid rains

to reach, to link, to touch the ground

throwing water in a percussion too harsh

so, i will stay within and listen to the patter taps on glass

on branch, on street

and see how mist makes a backlash, rising up

up, from the smash of water melting, meeting street

as sheltered eyes find ankles, who thought it was spring

stung in this callback of cold, running at a dash

from where umbrellas cannot cover, cannot hold

in these streets, where open paths form streams

to walk though, to breathe through

to run home, to sleep through

a snuggle under the layers of separation

under a blanket of cloud keepers

and all contained

indoors, in windows, inside

and, if it would only clear, i would walk down from this here

to the earth, to the street, to stand beneath

under that open sky, hands held out

catching what they can

of reflections, of reactions

of senses full

of vast shadows grown and cast, off and out and over

and i will hold it here

under the reflected light of an imagined night

drink it in

rain in my mouth, thunder-rumble tumble down

core to toes

and what is found

this is me looking up, this is what i know

by, earthboundpixie

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then, there were planets

starlight does not touch my city skin

where the overly bright ground holds the sky to silence

leaving stars unfound

leaving their stories hushed, unspoken

and i long for them

their imagined lines, their tales of other times

whispered, spoken, written in the dark

written on the dark, distantly defined

here, i can only see them on pages, faded

or a faint spot, high only when the sky is deep and clear

never spread through the night, easily overhead

with their overwhelm of distance drawn for all to see

that is not the night for me, here, with street-glow and the city overflow

though i have wandered to where deep darkness can grow

and seen the sky alight, scattered close

where i have stood dizzy and adrift, among their shine

grasping at gravity, the hush, the lifted lines of stories

where under that tapestry, they were written onto me

with all undone and together spun

lines of light, left linking wrist to wrist, to arm to arm

holding me and grasping strong

and i was still beneath, held in the vast, the listening

lines of light, telling tales, whispering

to the arches of orbit, slowly sinking through

and written into my hands and placed in the motion of my mouth

and these were not the myths or history, of birth-months or books

they lay outside lived language

and left me trembling, trying to hold onto remembering

 this speaking of story beyond words

and i was reaching out for the pull of this planet, of familiar worlds

sinking to earth

my body full drawn into the grass, upon the dirt

breathing myself into and around arms

anchored against the further floating, the distance, the desire

the too far to fathom, held here

under these stars that do not have a word for tree

as i cling to the dark grass, shivering into the ground

naming what was found, franticly

the living plants my eyes could level-see

then, up and up, glances growing, slowly flowing

through the deep air to planets, there and there

Jupiter and Mars rising, opposite and above, shining

old gods throwing old light

as i collect myself, my storied skin, the light of stars now held within

i hold myself together, under the too clear night

and turn my mind’s eye

from starlight back to muted sky

by, earthboundpixie

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a reach of roots

i became me wandering among these formative trees

and this now is an edge, an ending

a moving on to goodbye, with the path of life bending

like the young trees  curved with their crowns to the earth

still bearing the weight of winter, or trained through storms to form

these arches, these entryways, the outlines of doors

and through them, my mind strays

standing in my older body, against an older tree

just listening, as the uplift of air sings through branches

still spring-bare, and i am here

a mature old me, standing

wrapped all over, layers of linen and cotton to cover, standing

bright against the bark of this still older tree

remembering a time when a younger me stood deeper in

against a younger tree, wearing far less and thinking differently

and i must say goodbye to that young girl

and her enchanted forest world

though i am silent, staying, standing

goodbyes are tricky , for me

farewells do not flow freely, i know

and i cannot say it, cannot quite let go

the way the thorns grabbed at my skin

moments ago, on my way in

they were saying no, don’t look back now, just go

i pushed through though

as they tore at my clothes, caught up my hair

and called blood-red lines up to rise

leaving me etched in intention

let me pass, i need to make these moments last

this last time, this goodbye

i could not say it though

and walking forward, a path presented silently

the past allowing for me to leave

with less effort and more ease

all is unspoken, the spell still left unbroken

and in the dream of that night

i was kissed with a goodbye, just right

tender and careful, with trust in my moving on, away

holding memories within, to keep, to stay

an embrace, arms around, hands framing my face

lips touching, a moment,  a comfort, a hold  

and release

don’t speak

i am awake and gone, back to the city

to live forward, knowing

enchanted forests are still somewhere growing

by, earthboundpixie

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