Tag: #poetry
-
Mary Oliver, more well-known for her awe-filled devotion to noticing the natural world, was clearly not unaware of the perils of our consumerist, dominating culture.
-
On finding peace through writing, community and imagining.
-
I’m pleased to announce the publication of my first poetry chapbook. I hope you’ll check it out on Amazon or (better yet) at the publisher’s website, to support small business! https://www.finishinglinepress.com/product/the-invisible-suitcase-by-elaine-olund/
-
This is a picture of my heart unfolding fragile beautiful thing— like your heart and every heart. Tender red beating strong enough to push gallon after gallon of blood around and around spinning dizzy two thousand gallons every day, day after day. Or it might just be a tulip.
-
I’ve been a bit sick the last few days. Actually, I’ve felt really, really crappy, and unable to work until today. I felt both emotionally and physically ill. The anniversary of the election of the pussy-grabber, the unfolding exposure of so many #metoo stories, and the fact that there are still so many supporters &…
-
back through time I lumber back through time unrooted over boulders gap-eyed water glinting pink sunset unrooted I slide through mud into sand into lake stone wash hillsides caving in I am caving in all I have to hold onto all I can carry this basket, sweet-grass woven Inside is my pacifer rubbery round I…
-
Never lose hope, my heart, miracles dwell in the invisible. —Rumi love poem to the world, #16 The way my brain flares as I dream of you, electric while purple finches sleep hidden in dark branches how egg met sperm in warm depths and became you while the soul of my mother sang in…
-
Fear-based attachments are physically addictive, states the psychiatrist in the book I’m reading. (Is that why this nightmare isn’t over yet?) Explains things: why ugly hazing rituals cement bonds why that friend of a friend won’t leave her abuser (Oh, and she may also know he’ll kill her, if she tries, but people will still…
-
someday I’ll love Elaine Olund (after Ocean Vuong/after Frank O’Hara/after Roger Reeves) Someday I’ll smile every time I bump into myself. Even when that self is a mess, an ooze, tears and unwashed hair undone tasks and hiccups and wrinkles and regrets that smell like Marlboro Lights and malt liquor And I’ll smile even when…
-
conversation I wondered what they find to talk about now after all those summers, baking hot all those winters, pelted with sleet still standing, side by side, steadfast together do they ever wish they could escape, be alone? or do they both secretly dream of deeper connection, a current shared energy transcending their important jobs,…
eeo 