Meanwhile, I Keep Dancing

Day 13: Windows This word was found on page 123 in The Magnificent Mountain Women; Adventures in the Colorado Rockies by Janet Robertson My Window There is a large window in my living room In the morning, when the morning is slow, I like to sit in my green chair, curled around a cup of tea contemplating the light drifting in striking the rising steam And I like to contemplate the neighbor's bamboo as it rustles silently outside  My cat self is happiest here in the stillness of the morning Tail twitching in pleasure, relaxed slitted eyes taking in the world outside my window

Day 12: Going Word taken from The Stranger Vol 26, No. 29 “Vive La Presistance!” Going, Going, Gone Remember when your hands were small and grasped at everything? The wide world was an all blossoming potential and left you terrifyinglyexcited, breathless 6 Years old untethered hair and mismatched socks we thought musician, world traveler, film star? How will I know when will I know in the background trills “Que Sera, Sera!” Then time rushed forward eagerly bumped it's head, skinned it's knee We took on burdens we thought we had to bare snapped on bras Tamed our hair “ Going, Going, Gone” Became the new song a frantic background beat as my hands, no longer small stretched and stretched missing expectations I could not meet But I am a musician conductor, dancer artist of my life and I can shape this tune again I'll hold up handfuls

Day 11: Sister Taken from Squashed by Joan Bauer, page 94 When I am with my sisters I am reminded how strong my arms are how loud my laugh can be how wide my loving is When I am with my sisters I change from an awkward fish slipping into warm spa waters unsure, naked, vunerable, into a smooth skinned mermaid When I am with my sisters I can hold out my cracked heart be reminded that it CAN be fixed made whole and that I have the power to do this When I am with my sisters It doesn't matter I was born an only child my sisters are made from the same star dust we share blood and bone heartache and wonder When I am with my sisters I can feel a linking of hands that stretches back centuries

Day 10: Soul Funk Taken from the House Infusions list from the Seamonster Lounge in Seattle WA. Tempo Transition The Grey Skies Unending, unrelenting A city sized shared funk Tonight, oh my sisters And tonight, on my brothers In a joyous imitation of The Endless Drizzle Come shed your water weight Through your pours Let it pour As you move across the floor Funk music replaces the state of mind outside the door Shake and wiggle Grove And BE Who knows what tonight will bring Move your hips til they loosen Let's groooooove some Brew some Soul gold light for the rest of the week Follow your hearts yearning to beat faster, sync with alto sax Let your hair dooooown relax Anoint your lips with fire Be a vessal for something higher Baptise yourself Anew In homemade holy water

Day 9: Anxiety This word brought to you by The Volcano Lover, by Susan Sontag When the Shoulds Come to Town The Shoulds have come to town they hammer at your door demand if the TO DO's been done, and if you have, then more! They'll sit above your bed dripping doubt upond your head fill your dreams of awkward things racing heart pounding dread When the Shoulds come to town you will hide where you can at the bottom of a chip bag or a beer can watch a movie! read a book! play a game! just don't look! But when the Shoulds are in town they'll bring all they own they'll set up tents, houses, cities and then they'll begin to moan “ There's more to do! There's more to do!” “ You've simply done not enough!” “ Your overweight! To thin! Not smart!” “ You're work is really rough!” But the Shoulds have a weakness too

Day 8: Draw Word taken from The True Secret of Writing by Natalie Goldberg, page 212 Draw me in run a line along my form capturing this fleeting shape before it transforms Hand me my purple crayon so I may shape the path as I take it discovering the magic hidden in the blank space I'll take a sketch book to the top of Montmartre brave the endless stairs find myself at the foot of Sacré-Cœur shining white in the bright spring light there I will be high enough to sketch my desire my heart a rough sketch of what is to come I'll take an impression of what is here a page from the master's books and fill it out with bright, bold, dabs of color

Day 7: Garage Taken from the poem  Barbecuing , in Swimming with Fish and other Animals, poems by Patrick Dixon We hide things in garages entombed them dirty shrines to days past we stuff these memories in ripped cardboard boxes useful things, once useful stacked in corners cover them with tarps always amazed by what we have collected the sheer quantity counting life in items and inches Dust settles, spiders make homes sometimes if something needs taking care of we root around, find ourselves distracted by broken wagons and deflated balls make promises that this spring we will use it all but we don't In the dark garage of my mind the ghosts have been whispering I go there infreqently unsure of what is molding what needs fixing what needs to be thrown away But it's getting cramped, and spring birds remind me it's time for spring cleaning and garage sal

Day 6: Powered From T uning the Human Biofield by Eileen Day McKusick The talk these days has been sustainable energy wind powered ocean powered sun powered cars that glid between electicty and the black blood of dinosaurs and the people of Seattle slog along drenched in 5 months of gloom You would think by this time we would find a way to harness the rain soak it into our cells and create a fission under our skin become electric ourselves meet strangers eyes with wide smiles extend our hearts farther than our wallets for a rainbow drink I've been practicing an ancient  alchemy passed down from mother to daughter turning heartbreak into love tears become an elixir of release I am not shamed I am not shamed I am not shamed My anger, ghost pepper hot and molten lava red fuels my need for growth and change I am not shamed I am not shamed I am power

Day 5: Daughters This word was taken from my friends book, The Baron Would be Proud by Mike Jack Stoumbos, pg. 161 My Daughters I collect my thoughts these days and press them into journals bend them with wire and found beach glass store them in boxes I save these lessons learned in tissue paper and class bottles I save these memories for my daughters to bring out, hold treasured in cupped hands whisper their stories by dim lamp light and soft blankets I will pull back my sleeves and show old scars my stories of love and pain sing them songs of chances taken and adventures sought fairy tales to teach this new generation that they do not need to be saved by the prince nor do they need to do the saving but rather are guardians of their own souls and need only save themselves

Day 4 King Lear page 1616, The Globe Illustrated Hissing A warning in the grass behind the rock deep in a crack of my heart they are thoughts writhing in my mind snakes in the grass I reach out to touch them as they pass by old thoughts familiar thoughts thoughts twisted 'round my bones Do not tread farther stay back let your eye catch the bright colors of attractive poison and if I listen to the soft hissing I can just make out Stay too long with us and we will devour you whole

Day 3: Montanto Taken from The Globe Illustrated Much Ado About Nothing, p. 696. Apparently this is a term borrowed from the Italian schools of fencing, specifically a thrust. My Move Forward, parry thrust thrust retreat  we play this game of give and take messager or text the munstrum of our desire hoping that our last words were vocative enough to elicit more wish that the words we conjure will not fall into the cracks of the internet Void I fight my culture that tells me I should not make the first move I banish shame as I type out a message, not too pushy, not too much  just enough to catch your eye watch my rapier wit fly Like Beatrice who uses words to create a wall, to be herself and hold off the pain of expectation  I want to love but at this point in my life  will fight for my heart if you want it you must match me wit to wit skill to skill blade to blade

Day 2: April 19 th 2017 This word was discovered today in The Soul of an Octopus by Sy Montgomery Locks Bound head to foot in a coil of my own making often flailing against the bars of a cage made of the daily mundane sometimes I pause, breathless consider rather than tearing out my nails and beating the bars til I bleed if only by stretching my arm around to the back of my hair I'll find a bobby pin, perfectly slim and subtle to pick the lock to freedom

Sometimes all we can do is put one foot in front of the other when the world shifts. Just keep walking. In another blog I kept I talked about my experience  getting ready for a long multi month trip in Europe with a boyfriend at the time. The plan was quit our jobs, travel around 6 months, and then move somewhere together or come back and start a new life. Together, it was implied. What ended up happening is another story, for another time. One I am sure to tell here, within the electronic pages of this ephemeral book.  Being now on the other side of it, it seems like a dream. Some parts of my life are exactly the same as before I left, and some parts...well, I've said goodbye to them. But writing, ah, I see you on the horizon and I'm taking steps towards you again! One word in front of the next. So here I am, another project. 30 days, each day a different new poem. Taken from random places of inspiration. I'm looking forward to the ride, and I hope you