Listening to your heart isn't always easy, but sometimes doing so just might save your life.
Category: poetry
How To Find What’s Hidden in Translation, Lost in Transmission
How do I sit with this knowing of not-knowing,Or attempt to commune with the great-grandfather of my great, grandfatherWhen I cannot speak the words of his mother tongue? What can I hear in this restless silence, leftLong after my grandma still had breathTo fill in all those gaps in my memory? Why did I not … Continue reading How To Find What’s Hidden in Translation, Lost in Transmission
Loving My Body Through A Decade Living With Dystonia
Ten years a slave–To tangled limbsAnd a torquing spine,To a broken medical systemAnd neural network gone offline Ten years an observer–Of the quirky, jerky movement of a marionetteCompensatorily adopted two decades agoAfter a bike/car accident left my Body and brain bruised and bowed Src: istockphoto.com/portfolio/fona2 Ten years a student–Of physiology and the human mind;Acquiring an armchair … Continue reading Loving My Body Through A Decade Living With Dystonia
Medusa Hair, Do Care
Medusa Oblongata My straight-ish hair,At its longest, Stretches down to the bottomOf my shoulder blades.I remember being able to onceSit on the ends of my braidsAt my first grade deskIf I leaned back far enough.Now, I stare into the mirror,And an unholy crownFrames my face, likeThe flames of a fire–Though made of molten ashAnd steel … Continue reading Medusa Hair, Do Care
Sticky Sweet Reflections on Summers Past
When the school bell sounds its final ring, We pack up the Rabbit and head Down South, Where we will ride and walk, up and across, The flat, square city blocks of Charlotte. When the restless claim on her home overwhelms, Grandma sends us outside to pluck from The bounty from her summer garden, The … Continue reading Sticky Sweet Reflections on Summers Past
Reaffirming When I Feel Most Alive
I feel most alive amidst The lilting arpeggio of birdsong– Shoes crunching through scattered leaves And my eyes lifted to a sky shimmering With a web of verdant limbs I feel most alive when My fingers pluck at nylon strings– Eyes closed, head tossed back, Mouth bursting at the seams with Thought-felt phrases knitted from … Continue reading Reaffirming When I Feel Most Alive
Renée Can Writes 