12 Degrees & Skiving

what began as year-long challenge has become perpetual until further notice

All My Names

I stay silent, unquiet
the river
and the boulder in the river

wanting to call myself
by any other name, again
light breaks the questions open
on the soul’s banks:
how many names have I half-owned?
how many selves have I?

More lives than a cat, for sure,
brewing the same bowl of fright, freeze and ego,
feathering the self for flight

my poetry knows far more about me
before I am ever ready to know
in the meantime i fashion
one-winged things
to open windows
work metal to make my arms strong
in the face of fire
to push back
against currents not mine

yet in the beginning was writing

it etched me into existence
and out again,
the river oxbows,
elbows back
all my names
listing, heeling soulward


Tell me wotcha reckon

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This entry was posted on April 29, 2020 by in Poetry.

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