"Somewhere deep inside there is a sound that is mine alone, and I struggle daily to hear it and tune my life to it."

- Rachel Naomi Remen

Poem for Day 26: Hinges

Hinges

 

Washing down the Prozac

with a honeymoon

Fingertips of greed stretch out before me and I

Stop

Patient with the moment

Eating blueberries like it is the first day of my last day

on earth.

 

Patiently waiting

to find the undercover wind

that rises in my ears to

unlock the door shut tight.

 

Please-

order me some comfort

have them put it in a cup where

I can hold it

stir it and drink it down

so

slowly.

 

Forget what you have been told

I remember how to get old

And it was to regret this day

and that one.

It is to go too fast

and not too slow like everyone assumes.

Patience makes you consider

and considering

leads to exploration

in everything that now demands our time.

 

Breathing is never overrated.

Words must be carefully formed.

Thoughts need mothers to make sure they behave

when the syncopants of misconstruction come to call–

the syncopants will always come to call.

 

But when we live more with the pace of our hearts

than at the pace of the world

We can securely close perfect doors.

-J. McIntyre

"No Mind, No Face"

Who knew a Swedish band lead by a brother and a sister could be so influental on the 16-18 year old me? I have never seen this video ("Believe" K's Choice) until now (thanks for inventing non-video programming MTV). I did see K's Choice live at Lilith Fair in 1998 with my best friend at the time Corey. I miss her, wherever she is.

Poem for Day 23: Overboard

Overboard

Terrified to let the handful of vowels

and successively placed consonants out

for it will bring back the symptoms–

the repeated tossing of the self

Overboard,

the leasing of a spark of faith

in the sheave

it is blustered through.

Quiet now, breathing –

No place to go.

-J. McIntyre

Poem for Day 18: Bible Study

Bible Study

A sinus infection
lead to words
on how to
be forgiven
missed.

Terms
sit flat on the page
and trepidation rises
from not knowing
faithfully
what they mean.

Affection internally
resides–
conflicts
with the fear
of wrath.

Don’t forget–
mind over
material
and love
over light.

Poem for day 16: Bum Left Eye

Bum Left Eye

Shannon got the love of diet coke

Jordan, the love of cars

I got the twin brother twelve years late.

Both blue eyed and blonde children

so identical in 1982 and ’94.

 

We all got the squint in our face

the mint and the bum left eye.

 

These are boxes we open always in surprise

when we jut into a moment

and find

that no face on green paper

or number on a page

 

could defeat the passing on of things –

Immaterial, inward and sacred.

J. McIntyre

 

Oatmeal: Poem for Day 14

Oatmeal 

Death is just another fact

like toilet paper and gasoline

food stuffs and saying

everything will be ok

cause it will be until the end.

 

Life is that immense

bowl of oatmeal

full of that which is sometimes sweet

nutritious and lumpy.

It isn’t the most attractive thing

but it works.

 

Fatality is not something we should fear

or hide from

anymore than we would hide from water

coming out of the faucet

into a glass.

 

Fragile creatures

inside wear steady–

cowboy leather

in their character.

 

  -J. McIntyre