counter lesson on currency (8/30)

write a palinode. And what’s that? It’s a poem in which the poet retracts a statement made in an earlier poem.

    counter lesson on currency

yesterday
queen aya taught you
‘when we came here,
we left behind
systems of getting
without doing’

which is not precise
but you cannot pinpoint
those who forsake memory
and live only in afterglow

the first currency of this planet was favor,
the first value love

the founding queens
played creation games
with each other
everything you see now
results from their vigorous
winning and losing

the first planetians to find here
looked to aya’s glittery smile
after each dusty task

she only saw e—,
and did not notice us

she held seed bursting ideals,
and we held her,
myth and magic…
stories and misquotations

it was never enough to
simply exist, to revel in the
abundance of our miraculous lives

we had to also be marvelous
fantastic and fascinating
complex, kind and mysterious
stunning as the pallique sea

then she would feed you
everything

the first ones to die here
were simply dull stardust
hard workers with no brilliance
they never caught her eye
they withered, reaching for her
she was ignorant
always shifting the center
always in motion

it shamed her to devastation
when she realized what was happening
when she knew that in spite of her pretty thinking
she was money dirty

that currency of attention,
so hard to trace
is why the queen wears the
moonshade veil
so that we understand the cost of immeasurable beauty
and are fair with praise
and always look for the light

lesson on currency (7/30)

today’s prompt: write about money! It could be about not having enough, having too much (a nice kind of problem to have), the smell, or feel, or sensory aspects of money. It could also just be a poem about how we decide what has value or worth.

in and of itself it was nothing
that was the oddness
everything it was made of
was precious to the home planet
was irreplaceable in the long run

it was made of water bearing trees
it was made of metals that
shapeshift in fire
it was made of earth core
sculpted with names

people who had nothing else
but currency
were never considered lazy
and people who worked all day
in the sun, cleaning up the world
were given no dignity

when we came here, we left behind
systems of getting without doing

here we all make the world

that is your lesson on currency

an aubade from aya (6/30)

write an aubade (a song from a door or window to a sleeping woman, a morning love song).

the land is quiet between us

for months we face this sun
growing impossibly hot indoors

she magics a canopy between our fields
demands we drag out the bed

i say the illogical rain will catch us
but she’s right
the wind is all night warm and soothing
we wake on this small and glittering earth
find ourselves shimmering skin

now i watch her from the station
dawn shift, in our conjured time

her thighs spread heavy on white,
my ink plume,
grav belt her only cover
wide and silver at her hips

there is no one so beautiful to me
in all the galaxies
though she won’t hear it

just last day
her warrior eyes on the horizon
she told me not to tell them we found this,
‘they are ruin’ she whispered

so. she thinks i am miraculous.

for me, here, she smiles
and even now, in her sleep,
with the loud sun between us
that sort of moonlight
brings me home

e— reads aya dickinson on the new world

napowrimo prompt 5: rewrite a poem from emily dickinson with your own spacing and punctuation.

i did this, as well as adding some interjections from queen aya, who claims not to love dickinson.

now i knew
i lost her.

how tragic.

not that she was gone

oh?

but remoteness travelled on her face

ah. I know that look.

and tongue

lover, did you suck my tongue, before?

alien, though adjoining as a foreign race

the glymphot for example. the thrakzly. the shmardue.

traversed she, though pausing…
latitudeless place!
elements unaltered!

like gold but muted.
like fire but flameless.
a gentle knife,
a subtle wonder

universe? the same. but
love’s transmigration?

from where you are, to within me? like this?

somehow, this had come

come and become i daresay

henceforth to remember
nature took the day i had paid so much for

made of it a castle for lonely queens
made of it a prison for wounded hearts
made of it an art

(hers) is penury

nothingness

not who toils for freedom
or for family

or anything outside of this room

but the restitution of idolatry.

wonderful.
i love it.
now – come worship me.

aya and e— speak of emotion (4/30)

day 4 prompt: I challenge you to write a “loveless” love poem. Don’t use the word love! And avoid the flowers and rainbows.

aya and e— speak of emotion

you taste like metal and fire.
i claim you as my blood moon
my favorite of the rare phenomena,
brief and breathless.

you do worse than that, queen.
you dismiss the shadows
til i’m a foolish orbit
i feel so small and imperfect in all that light

gift me darkness

no, that’s a different season, night
here, now
i can only offer you me, selfish and swollen –

but that’s precisely what i mean
it’s that you swallow me up
and i would actually live inside of you
on whatever world you go to

(laughing) but then i couldn’t see you
obsidian, sharp, bright, gorgeous…
anyway, there’s only the world we make.

hold me closer. cover my eyes with your hair.

i’m already dreaming of you tonight.
tomorrow we should turn the field.

tomorrow we should make the map
organize the pantry

and see about the water
and talk with more of the ghosts

yes. we can do all things, or no things.
it’s all exquisite. do you feel that vastness?

this vastness. this this this.

if we are quiet, we can live here forever

that’s what i mean, precisely.
you, you are the forever i always wanted.

e— recalls creating (3/30)

day 3 prompt: write a fourteener. fourteeners can be have any number of lines, but each line should have fourteen syllables

e— journal entry 3/26/R1259

we are building a home we know from dreams and the darkness
it isn’t wood, but it lives, it grows and it knows our names
we whisper up walls which glow when the light is near fading
we learn, forget all the borders and lies we were raised in

aya is a warm stone huddled inside my healing womb
i ask the sacrifice of the fleshed up m’xjulls, feed us
we lay on the shifting floor sucking meat from our fingers
she says we could never be lost, dull, lonely or easy

she laughs when i call her queen, mounts the throne for my pleasure
we are so deeply alone, but i don’t miss the others
she sings me songs that she plucks fully formed from her memories
if the new world is in us, i can hush and be hopeful

aya’s own stars (2/30)

today’s prompt: take your gaze upward, and write a poem about the stars.

……

e— wore the grav belt
even when they were alone
on a field like shards of silver
her back gentle and solid
on the bright dirt

even when aya was naked
floating just above the planet’s surface
the whole three hours of night.
aya would let e— shape her against the darkness,
making of her arms and legs and mane
new constellations

‘but now i’m just orion!’
aya would eventually protest,
done with the game,
reducing e—‘s flesh art
to belt, four corners, phallus,
just to feel something familiar on her tongue

e— would pull aya down through the air
into kisses that sent aya’s toes towards ocha (the vermilion moon)

saying,
‘and from here, from the back, orion could be anyone we say she is.’

meaning,
‘i am your only familiar.’