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I want to get creativity + mindfulness prompts and poems:

 

Samantha’s Daily Poem

October 24, 2011

Birth



She is ripe
but lean
like that clip I saw once
of a python
that swallowed a deer
a body travelling
through
her.

All of her organs
are hands
pushing
pushing
from the inside
out.

I didn’t see the part
the finale
forceps
I imagine taking a cob of corn
out of the pot with tongs
only more
heroic.

I stare at his half face
a crescent moon
the rest of him buried
under her breast
the quiet tick
of swallowing.

His hand
too small for his skin
rests on her chest
like a tiny pale glove
as though the body arrives first
sends word
to the magic

it is safe
there is love here
please come
fill me up.

October 23, 2011

I leave a lot out



I leave a lot out
when I tell you
I love you.

The way you sit at your computer
moving your mouth
practicing the words
before you write them down.

The spoons in the kitchen sink
covered in jam
evidence of a good day
too much bursting out of you
to bother
with bread.

All the times you hide
and lift his little head just above
the front gate
so that it looks like he is standing
waiting for me
as I park the car
his floating face
laughing.

You will never know
the fullness of my love
even I cannot see it all
it has woven itself into me
like the rain
invisible
inside
the tree.

October 22, 2011

Autumn in the city



From the top of the hill
the city looks splatter-painted
with orange and red trees
alarming colours
none of the pastels of summer
this is a warning
the cold is near
if you squint
you’d think the streets
heeded the call
and set themselves
on fire.

October 21, 2011

Another baby is born



Another baby is born
we bring soup
and peanut butter balls
hand-me-downs
everybody says the same three things
so small
those perfect feet
a miracle
we swoon
unwilling to believe
it is so common.

October 20, 2011

Ode to the pomegranate



Strange red fruit
you harbour the betel-stained teeth
of Indian men
tart wet kernels in clusters
like cells under a microscope.

Who invented you?

I think I would like him
the quirky, detail-oriented type.

If you were a novel
you would be written in verse
whimsy and tenderness
an unexpected
ending.

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