No Room In These Wings For That

822EBBBA-930D-4F97-89E6-C8C64E940A6DThey say as long as it’s not
a poem about Nature
or god forbid,
Love

Whether in its burning purity
Or complex demands

So don’t expect nightingales here
I’ve turned all my warblers into ravens

and put in an order for dread
and the heavy metals of a world bent on celebrating gross things

and thrusting swords at all
the Others
it thinks lives out THERE

But it boomerangs back as a dark bird singing sonnets

Summing up the kerneled heart
inside the fist

I climb down the tree
watered with freedom
seeding uncompromising truths in the shade

Shaking out eternities of tunes
from the raven-lit branches

The opposite of love
isn’t hate
but indifference, it says
and there’s no room in these wings for that

That skunk of a Raven squawks something about how
every tune is a love poem
even the damned curses

Every word a wild word
and challenges me to defy him

How can I argue with someone like that?

THAT POEM UNDER YOUR SKIN

EB7515F6-0598-41AD-A5B4-63C13F0861A2That poem that lives under your skin?

That poem may be so far under your skin
you might need the raven’s cry
to claw its way in at dawn

You might need an unkempt trickster
to fool your eyes
in order to fling a true word or two from within your pretty vault

But then the poem will roll off
your skin
all mist and moist
an offering to the earth

It’ll stain your fingers with beets
Your lips with wine
Your thighs with blood

It’ll write your forehead with mud
Your back with her scratch
Your arm with Hafiz

Your story with a wound
will shapeshift and a wild coursing will resume

It’ll entangle your head with the storm
Your hair with twigs
Your eyes with the moon

Or are you here to let your poem sleep through it all?

Then form your raw rituals
and let the world nibble it awake
#ryanvanlenning

UNSCREW YOURSELF FROM DOORJAMB NIGHT

733E32AF-5C80-4E26-A5EE-8F90549CC746I’ll tell you how the long day ends
in the final hour of June, she said

with her kaleidoscopic coyote grin
and crook-eyed cricket gaze again
she sipped her nightcap hot and holy
in her ripped and airy lilac gown

aiming cat-tails towards venus west
after molten sun had bolted down

new moon me, she said, with glee
whipping wild her wide-eyed face
inside rhubarb ribbons racing
lacing up the vest of night

then offering peaches bruised just right
brewed up nicely for blue hearts
led early plums with early stars
to come out playing without a fight

Spiraling starly and madly Mars
around the skinny of her scar

I’m not the dream you thought you had
she sang with all her lovely fangs

Roam free and yes roam wide
throw those damned doors aside
unscrew yourself from doorjamb nights

was the last thing to me she said
before the month of June had fled

#ryanvanlenning

That Skunk of a Raven

6391c0ca-5bbf-4cd5-bbe6-a26bdc66c124They say as long as it’s not a poem about Nature or god forbid,
Love

Whether in its burning purity
Or complex unrequisitions

So don’t expect nightingales here
I’ve turned all my warblers to ravens
and put in an order for dread
or the heavy metals of a world bent on celebrating gross and dark red things
and punching at all the Others
it thinks lives out THERE

But it boomerangs back as a dark bird singing sonnets
summing up the kerneled heart
inside the fist

I climb down the tree
watered with freedom
seeding its uncompromising truths in the shade
shaking out eternities of tunes
from the raven-lit branches

The opposite of love isn’t hate
but indifference, it says
and there’s no room in these wings for that

That skunk of a Raven squawks something
about how every tune is a love poem
even the damned curses

Every word a wild word
and challenges me to defy him

How can I argue with someone like that?

Luv and LiberaXion

5414F941-0E9A-4D7C-A351-FA3BCCB7B68BYou just might get it,
though it won’t arrive like you expect it.

If you think you are tricking yourself,
it is only your wildness bootstrapping itself with a grin—your rabbit mind
cannot catch up

….with your ¡coyote-tortoise soul!

But be careful what you put on the calendar—the alerts will be sent out
at…….irregular….moments

and.everything.arrives.on.time.

If it’s a falling leaf you expect,
the tree will fall on your house.

If it’s a winter storm you see gathering on the horizon,
it may arrive as warm steady rain
pulling green from your land
like gravity from the heavens.

You may well try to grasp the sun—its rays will pour right through your hands
but may sneak into parts of you
about which you had long forgotten.