poems of natural ripple
by julia kiaer
by julia kiaer
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cover photo by julia kiaerLoading...
to:the self I get to be in this moment
many thanks and acknowledgements to:
everyone who has read these poems and offered their thoughts
liz, who structured my craft of poetry
the people and places who have inspired these poems
everyone who has read these poems and offered their thoughts
liz, who structured my craft of poetry
the people and places who have inspired these poems
Table of Contents
I. Peonies Grow...
II. Gallery 201
III. Tarnished of Love
IV. A Therapy of Sorts
V. Our Shakespeare Garden
II. Gallery 201
III. Tarnished of Love
IV. A Therapy of Sorts
V. Our Shakespeare Garden
Peonies Grow...
after "I Died for Beauty but was Scarce" by Emily Dickinson
after "I Died for Beauty but was Scarce" by Emily Dickinson
Peonies grow from my ears in the Spring
The daffodils dance in my hair
Bees chat away — but all they can say
Are Truths I’d rather not hear
They taunted softly, “Summer is ending — your freckles are fading”
“Oh really? I’ve thrown out my mirrors”
“That Beauty is lost then”
“The Beauty of Time?” —“No,” they replied
It’s the Beauty I hold in my blossoms —
That bud and wilt with the fall of the seasons
Whisping away on the coming of fall
Flowers returning — only once I’ve forgotten their Truths —
The daffodils dance in my hair
Bees chat away — but all they can say
Are Truths I’d rather not hear
They taunted softly, “Summer is ending — your freckles are fading”
“Oh really? I’ve thrown out my mirrors”
“That Beauty is lost then”
“The Beauty of Time?” —“No,” they replied
It’s the Beauty I hold in my blossoms —
That bud and wilt with the fall of the seasons
Whisping away on the coming of fall
Flowers returning — only once I’ve forgotten their Truths —
Gallery 201
To me they whisper away
Drawn out laments
Immortalized in pigments
Confined to gold plaster frames
There’s a wordless agreement
Among the visitors to stay:
wordless
shhh
To speak in thoughts
With wandering eyes
To hear the cries
Of the painter’s brides
To gossip with fruit baskets
Yearning for more
Yearn for the the blue hued room
A shade lighter than the sky
Artificial in practice
Natural in life
Time in conversation with the muses
In conversation with my shoes
Shuffling to a pause
Enjoy the art
And the silence
shhhhh
Drawn out laments
Immortalized in pigments
Confined to gold plaster frames
There’s a wordless agreement
Among the visitors to stay:
wordless
shhh
To speak in thoughts
With wandering eyes
To hear the cries
Of the painter’s brides
To gossip with fruit baskets
Yearning for more
Yearn for the the blue hued room
A shade lighter than the sky
Artificial in practice
Natural in life
Time in conversation with the muses
In conversation with my shoes
Shuffling to a pause
Enjoy the art
And the silence
shhhhh
Tarnished of Love
This is the place I die
When the words come to wailing dinners
Buried with my mother’s silver earrings : pendulums
from my bleeding piercings
This is where I live
Family crest upon my pinky
Histories of gold lost in June grass unknown to my father
He would cry for me and for me and for the tangled tree
Tears on the pomegranatetarnish the silver
I polish and polish
But mother’s jeans will never fit me : corduroy
Father’s consonants are softer : ja
Through watering eyes we look like each other
But my hair will never be as red red
my blood my bleeding heart my bleeding ears
When the words come to wailing dinners
Buried with my mother’s silver earrings : pendulums
from my bleeding piercings
This is where I live
Family crest upon my pinky
Histories of gold lost in June grass unknown to my father
He would cry for me and for me and for the tangled tree
Tears on the pomegranatetarnish the silver
I polish and polish
But mother’s jeans will never fit me : corduroy
Father’s consonants are softer : ja
Through watering eyes we look like each other
But my hair will never be as red red
my blood my bleeding heart my bleeding ears