and so
i come
i enter
i sit
i find
my mind
surfacing
to destroy
the act
of this
artmaking
making
itself
a
mask
promises
threatens
its
place
to hide
behind
to
enter in
to the
dance
beyond
this
body.
i
sit.
i
be.
i
write.
i
find.
i
come.
i
enter
the
offering.
i gift my gifted
self to these proceedings.
elizaBeth Benson's poetic journey through her daily life as an artist, mom, spirit, lover, human being
Showing posts with label being a writer. Show all posts
Showing posts with label being a writer. Show all posts
Monday, May 05, 2008
Sunday, April 27, 2008
make an offering
enter your piece of peace
heal thyself oh writress
share the sharing parts
let go what is not offered
MAKE AN OFFERING
enter the silence.
you are here, together,
entering the dream
of being together
heal and grow
heal and know
this be that
forever
speak they name
speak my name
say it
what needs the
saying
then come
when you are
ready
we are always
waiting--ready--
for you
come.
heal thyself oh writress
share the sharing parts
let go what is not offered
MAKE AN OFFERING
enter the silence.
you are here, together,
entering the dream
of being together
heal and grow
heal and know
this be that
forever
speak they name
speak my name
say it
what needs the
saying
then come
when you are
ready
we are always
waiting--ready--
for you
come.
i want and then...
i want
and then
stop wanting
have
and then
stop having
speak
and then
stop speaking
give
and then
stop giving
in the presence
of witness
i be here
seen or heard
felt or imagined
i be here now
being
s t i l l
and then
stop wanting
have
and then
stop having
speak
and then
stop speaking
give
and then
stop giving
in the presence
of witness
i be here
seen or heard
felt or imagined
i be here now
being
s t i l l
Labels:
be here now,
being a writer,
grief life,
i be here,
place,
presence,
silence,
stillness,
want
Wednesday, March 19, 2008
the poetry is coming
the poetry is coming
i can hear it in my head
the poetry is coming
let me go to sleep instead
the poetry is coming
i am not in the mood for company
the poetry is coming
i am not where i need to finally be
the poetry is coming
not now, i need a job
the poetry is coming
not here, i feel a fraud
the poetry is coming
i'm not ready, not today
the poetry is coming
not to me, not this way
the poetry is coming
i'm not a poet, can't you see
the poetry is coming
no, not to me. not to me.
the poetry is coming
maybe later i will play
the poetry is coming
i'm unwilling to get out of my own way
the poetry is coming
no the poetry is not
the poetry is coming
whether you like it or not.
i can hear it in my head
the poetry is coming
let me go to sleep instead
the poetry is coming
i am not in the mood for company
the poetry is coming
i am not where i need to finally be
the poetry is coming
not now, i need a job
the poetry is coming
not here, i feel a fraud
the poetry is coming
i'm not ready, not today
the poetry is coming
not to me, not this way
the poetry is coming
i'm not a poet, can't you see
the poetry is coming
no, not to me. not to me.
the poetry is coming
maybe later i will play
the poetry is coming
i'm unwilling to get out of my own way
the poetry is coming
no the poetry is not
the poetry is coming
whether you like it or not.
Labels:
angst,
being a writer,
excuses,
poetry,
transformative arts,
writing
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