Viral Dailies, Day 6

Holy Week continues, as does National Poetry Month…as does our shared quarantine. I think it is the perfect day to feature again Anneliese Myers. She is a talented, young poet who is also a friend and colleague with whom I served at Yakima Covenant Church. The breezy, whimsical quality of her work is easily matched by its heft. I hope you enjoy this as much as I.

____________________________________________________________________________________________

10,000 Reasons

So, I’ve written

10,000 words this week –

give or take.

It took thirty-eight-twenty-nine

to critique maps

hanging in dusty classroom 178.

 

Nine-eighty-one

summarized articles

about dead people and

outdated techniques;

forty-two-sixty-three

proposed research that,

once I get my degree,

no one will see.

 

The other –

thousandish? –

replied to a fraction

of e-mails received.

So, I thought, maybe now

I could write a word

 

to You.

But I’m tired,

uninspired,

and can write nothing new.

If only You gave deadlines

or promised feedback.

If only my heart moved against

the courage I lack.

 

-©Anneliese Myers

Anneliese Myers.JPG

Anneliese Myers is a wife and graduate student in Yakima, WA. While pursuing a Master’s degree in Biology, she still finds time to write, looking for inspiration in her faith, family, and the beautiful Cascade mountains where her field work takes place. 

Viral Dailies, Day 3

Kelly Belmonte.jpg

Today, I’m featuring someone who’s become a good friend and favourite contemporary poet, specifically her short form works. Lately, she’s been collaborating with other poets, visual artists, and photographers. In so doing, magic has emerged.

She writes about today’s collaboration: “Tom Darin Liskey was born in Missouri but spent nearly a decade working as a journalist in Venezuela, Argentina and Brazil. He is a graduate of the University of Southern Mississippi. His poetry, fiction and non-fiction have appeared in The Red Truck Review, Deep South, Driftwood Press, Biostories, Spelk, Heartwood among others. His narrative and documentary photography has been published in The Museum of Americana, Change 7, The Blue Mountain Review, Cowboy Jamboree, Literary Life and Midwestern Gothic, among others. He lives in Texas. Connect with him on Instagram at tomdarin.l and https://www.tomdarinphoto.com/.”

I could make a stumbling attempt to recreate the magic here. But, alas, I think it better to simply send you directly to her wonderful poetry blog, All Nine Muses, where that collaboration sings a truer tune.

Happy National Poetry Month!

Viral Dailies – Day 2

I’ve been looking forward to National Poetry Month. It’s one more thing to do in isolation! But, not just anything – something meaningful and hopefully, moving. I shared a new piece yesterday as we kicked off our month of poetic goodness together. Since then I’ve been reaching out to various poets and have invited them to share some of their best work with me so I, in turn, can share it with you.

Lesley-Anne Evans is a dear friend, fellow mystic and poet who has won numerous awards for her writing. Follow her on Instagram. Day 2 is a collage of short, refrigerator magnet poems entitled simply, “She Said.”

Enjoy.

____________________________________________________________________________________________

66BC543F-14E5-4952-A4AE-170E4DC13091BD200CCA-CFCB-4801-AC48-856CE398FA14.jpeg

3847C79A-DE7D-4F0E-8553-8DF11271B8ED.jpeg

Guest Post – Melissa Snyder Novak

I don’t do this enough – act as generous host to other poets, whether established or otherwise. Let’s rectify that, shall we? Today, I’m proud to offer this wonderful piece by good friend, Melissa Snyder Novak. I trust it takes you to similar places that it takes me.

Enjoy…

Cliff Walk

In the summer of my soul,

the waves crash against

the jagged cliffs of memory.

My heart, burning sun-hot,

draws a mist of longing from these eyes.

All thought, suspended.

All desire, unfurled.

 

Along this rugged cliff walk journey,

the misshapen boulders line up –

leading me to places previously unknown,

down, deep-soul’d places.

I walk unsteady, uncertain, afraid, holding out hands

for you to guide me in mystic vision, sweet.

But, once again, you are gone.

 

Feet sink and slide in sand, and

I struggle to press on, breathe, know –

Will you be there when I arrive?

Will you meet me?

Will you help me see the small, shattered edge-stone pieces of shell

that wait for foot to fall?

 

Waves push, invite –

Will I let myself be swallowed by your sea?

Will I open to your crushing waters?

Excruciating, this pleasing thought of being overtaken by you,

sweet uncertainty.

 

In the summer of my soul, alas,

the deep darkness begins to rise,

even against the backdrop of midday sun.

Winter is making its return in me,

anxious to hurl over its blanket,

waiting to devour with nights, cold.

 

The thought delights.

Ocean Pic.jpg