Tagged queer poetry

artwork by @jona_shoe


the children sit by the shore line
swallowing shards of broken glass.
broken bottles tossed from boats
by old men remembering each other.
they wish for touch and life jackets.
they wish for adult arms to catch them
as they tumble off broken swing sets.

most of the glass is broken bottles
tossed through storms, whirlpools and drownings
but some are left with messages in tact:
“the way i love you terrifies me”
“you are my compass”
“i need you like breathing”
“i think they saw us”
“one day we’ll be together”

the letters are spotted by ocean blood and tears
aged and faded by sunbeams
begging for the waking breath of sunrise
the tender steady holding of a sea shore.

the children clutch their shredded bellies
their burning cheeks rest against pillows of sand
in their dreams they touch each other
and silently pass tide-smoothed sea glass hand to hand.
they sing the songs of letters sung by mermaids,
soak in ink resting peaceful amongst the bones
of whales left to rest in shallow sunny water
ribcages empty and welcoming of heartbeats.

the children pass each other dandelion roots
rose petals, nettles leaves and fiddleheads
and fresh hand-cupped creek water.
they nurse each other patiently
tend to wounds and salt-water crumbling
lay the dead to rest with elder flowers
and pray the songs sung by mermaids
tucked amongst the haunted whale bones
finally resting peacefully, at the bottom of the sea.

this poem is from my poetry chapbook 13 months feral. i’ve shared it here today in anticipation of our upcoming workshop tour glitter rebellion. in these workshops we will explore using creative process to get in touch with and learn from our ancestors. this poem came to me through a dream and is an exploration of how plant allies and queer ancestry support healing from trauma.

the wonderful art for this poem comes from @jona_shoe. you can check out their work on instagram and on their website.


Firewood Season

love affair with a mouse fed cat
turning round on shoulder pin point
warm whisky whiskers brush cheeks

roads cobblestoned of shit and straw
dirt birthed beneath rain boot steps
chainsaws cutting through overcast

sap sizzles smokey in the stove
living room hearth
no south facing candles needed

recently seasoned cast iron pan
soup pot cauldron
kitchen witches summer savoury

canning lid opened for the first time
peaches and cream winter solstice
elder berry hot toddies

morning light through shower window
tears drops gather on plastic
flush steam pillows

snow:top of inhale
ice: bottom of exhale
frozen bouquets of medicine

wood splits straight down

tattoos of dirt
bacon grease

at sunrise, at moonrise: pillow forts
glowing skin for flashlights
crayons, felt tips and kisses glitter

this poem appears in my chapbook 13 months feral.

also, i am hosting a poetry workshop at the Nelson Women’s Center on January 16th 2016 from 1 to 4 pm for women, folks who have experienced trauma and LGBTQI+ folks of any gender. if you’re interested, stop by. it’s a $20 to $40 sliding scale with no-one turned away for lack of funds. you can learn more details about the workshop on the facebook page here. and if you’re reading this past that date, but want to hear more about my workshops, you can join the mailing list or check out the community education page of this site. <3