Death, Grief, Mine Na Poems

Down in the grotto of my heart

Down in the grotto of my heart

The swarm swells,
Into the anguish well
Where I wallow in my ancestors’ wounds
Mauve and violent, flame-scarred,
On the train tracks

The past and present entwining,
On raised birthmarks
Through German arms…
“Great-Grams, I would have held you back”

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Mine Na Poems

Snowflake Obsidian

Overwhelmed with the prints
Of yesterday’s ideas
Light as a feather, soon to be, no more
Your heavy anchor sunk my vision
And yet, that ship came in
As the oval window has closed in my ear
And the whirlwind has left my lungs
For swirling lovers of the skies,
In the wind, dance to a uniquely pattern,
And eventually fall, to rest on the earth
To melt and seep, into its glowing core
And spring back up, from a geyser
As I drip upon your obsidian floor


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Mental Health, Mine Na Poems

Torn and Sewn

There’s gotta be
something more
beneath me?
More than this human heart.
I’m petrified at what I’ll find.
Just one little cut underneath
my bags of breath.
What flaws to see?

The deluge of empathy,
To not feel this dread alone,
Of these after-effects.
I know, I try so hard, to disguise.
I still want to be treasure!
To recover with silken weavings of your intricate masterpiece.
But how am I to be sure I deserve your crowning?
I’m meek in my garments of flesh.
And prefer you to see me as a mirage.

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Mine Na Poems

Erosion

I’m learning to go away in a ghost town
No worries
No one to behave for
No desires
No goals
No kin
The campfire is out
No equality
For the scales only balance for death
Plutonic future
To sink to the depths of the oceanic crust
To be joined in the endless sediment
Of burial
Of the metamorphosed
Of the melting
Of the upheaval                                                                                                                     To be crushed back down again                                                                                     In only hope to be once part of a fire opal

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Mine Na Poems, Relationship

Daisy Wheels

To be your doe,
Your dear,
Rays that drop from golden suns
Me, my name,
I call myself—Devlin
A fierce girl that wrapped
Celtic knots around her thumbs

Your heed,
To confuse
Entrap me in daisy wheels
Asunder the ancient powers,
Impossible!
It spins out,
Haunts in pottery shards
Ambrosial campfire
To sit in love with your kin

Dispel the engrave
A chiselled heart, a fantasy bond
Our eyes, deep seated truths
I cherish…
Your music, beyond the moon-wave
My cry, a beloved praise

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Mine Na Poems

Heaviness (A Birthday Poem)

How does she begin to feel lighter again?
In this age of heaviness,
Everything weighing her down,
Try to hide the decay,
With excessive makeup.
Trim the fat.
But her eyelids still shut
from afternoon pains,
And the heartaches
still weighs the same.

Hypnotic regression…
A sweet girl of seven.
Unaware, that all her life will be to crave forth what seems lovable and gratifying.
That maturity ceases the climbing of trees and chasing of cats.
To the ascending of worldly success and the approval of at least one man’s glowing eyes.

And at the age of seventy
what reflections will she see?
Lady Plath’s
terrible fish?
Sacks of hefty flesh…
Enlarged pores to pour out life’s toxic gunk of addictions?
Crippling disease…
A memory like a swiss cheese parade?
Or the censored truths?
That the second we are born the body is slipping away.
Just a house for our souls to seek warmth,
To accumulate energies from karmic delays.

What about the here and now?
That carefree is not only a state of mind for a seven year old,
But also for this woman of thirty-four. Until her mental branches
begin to grow into a ruckus,
And she must trim it all back again.
Will she smile with thankfulness at everything that has accumulated
And seize the truth?
That acceptance of impermanence
is a state of grace.

Poem/Photo: Naomi Ruth             Art: Ivan Albright

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