ravenous.

ravenous

I am ravenous

(no second guessing)

learning who I am inside this feast

this beast

this breath

struggling to write

I hear my belly moan

what is her famous song?

downloading the exhaustion

the broken pieces

the sewn up threads

my boot straps are up

my bags are packed

for a quieter life

a place that feels like that first sip

the warmth softening me

inside that tea

she’s a muse for all of me

I want more of less

turn down the volume

slow the bus

oil up the joints

lets sit ravenous for the breath

ravenous to take off the masks

unveil, make room, stare at your face in the mirror for a long time

pregnant with producing, being, raising, growing,
cooking it all up

this stew of motherhood

ravenous to try it all on

ravenous to let it simmer for years

the fire will take care of the fat

I will try the innards, create a shape and call it a day

ravenous for this morning- this paper, this pencil, this limoges tea cup

stirring me round and round

ravenous for a chat

slowing down to let go

teaching the gospel before I know the lines

faking it before I am making it

sitting in lotus with my hips on fire

little bonfires in the bank accounts of my sciatica

my bones trying to tell me the story

in a language I only hear as pain

maybe its longing

maybe all I will ever know how to do in this life is write,

make a tea and breathe

I want to invite kindness to every party

let go of my expectations

I want to move my body in a way that says: I love you, I love every single molecule of you, I want to travel the world with you and the seven seas with you so that I might get a bit lighter

lose the barnacles that hold me here, the shackles of an agenda put here way before I got here--- trying to transcribe the language, decipher the font, a map nailed to those innards floating around me between the boiling bubbles and the toiling troubles

so sick & tired of sucking at this teet

to look for no mother in the room

all the babies in wide wood bowls

free to roam on cake plates

in their cozy vessels

where they are seen and heard, seen and heard, seen and heard!

when will that musical be over?

I have the playbill in hand turning to the page entitled

‘how to make a life’

reaching for some plain m&m’s

I sink down in my chair and

wait for the second act to begin.