Don’t crumple that page
The ink dries, doesn’t mean we’re through
I’m still missin’ you
Lynn Mari, © 2013
Hey Billy Bub.. this reminds me of that song we wrote..why don’t you pick up your guitar and help me write some lyrics to this? Stay smiling!
April 20, 2013
March 17, 2013
Dance with Shadows: Haiku
A realization–
You shouldn’t have to teach love
Or dance with shadows.
– Lynn Mari, © 2013
March 6, 2013
Standing at the Door (It is not so) : Poetry, Freewrite
I try to believe that You never happened–
that with time, and distance,
You will simply vanish.
It is not so.
The memories are still clear–
as if You are standing at the door,
asking to come in.
It is not so.
Lynn Mari, © 2013
February 18, 2013
The Keeper of Thirteen Secrets: Poetry
The Keeper of Thirteen Secrets
I
An unspoken avalanche
Pulls the snow down from the mountains
From cedar wings, blackbird races toward exposed secrets.
II
The metallic stars of blackbird eyes,
Search the Earth for a listening heart
Those who keep secrets understand loneliness.
III
An old photograph, a tarnished ring
A blackbird circles over ancestral secrets.
IV
Lurid secrets
The rhythm of a pacing heart;
What I know,
The blackbird is involved
Its red shoulder, caught my eye
Then disappeared into the night.
V
Hidden among the tall grass,
A pair of blackbirds build a nest
Secrets gather
The mud, the moss
The avoidance, the hush.
VI
Solemn secrets,
Suggestive smiles,
Origami wings of a folded note
Collapse, then expand-
Blackbird wings beat against the sky.
VII.
Lightning–
A figure swoops along jagged skyline
Of one of many secrets
In blackbird territory.
VIII
Blind and restless as blackbird chicks
Is the dependency of the secret
–and it’s keeper.
IX.
Lingering rays of silver light
Lead winter flocks astray
Secrets crystallize into errant snowflakes
Falling to earth in a hush.
IX
Ghosts tugging at crumbling curtains
Of lace against rumor
A restless pacing,
An urgency to tell
The frenzied gaze of blackbird
Confronted by it’s own secrets.
IX
Imploring eyes search the mirror,
Tumors bubble beneath the secrets
Blackbird pulls worms from beneath hedgerows
Strands of life dim, and fray.
X
Wings spread, glossy feather flatten
Headed tilted towards reaching rays
Secrets tumble from slender bill
On sunlit grass.
XI
The funeral procession
Once, bound by secrets
Now unburdened by death
They do not know where to stand-
And scatter like blackbirds frightened by prey.
XII
A seasonal thaw,
Resilient buds emerge from icy cocoons
Secrets linger
Between the heart and the mouth
Blackbirds return to cattail marshes.
XIII
Unflinching
The blackbird is watching.
Lynn Mari, © 2013
A tribute poem to Wallace Stevens, inspired by “Thirteen Ways of Looking at a Blackbird.” It took me several months to complete this poem, I was told to just stop writing because it was so difficult..grin..but I had an amazing inspiration in Wallace, and a relaxing walk through the swamp..and those moments saw me through the sleepless nights, and jumbled words. This poem has taught me so much about the depths of creativity, and the mysterious blackbirds that circle the sky 
Sources:
“Thirteen Ways of Looking at a Blackbird”, Wallace Stevens: http://www.writing.upenn.edu/~afilreis/88/stevens-13ways.html
All About Birds, “Red Winged Blackbird”: http://www.allaboutbirds.org/guide/Red-winged_Blackbird/lifehistory
“Common Blackbird: Turdus merula”: http://www.oiseaux-birds.com/card-common-blackbird.html
“Our Nesting Blackbirds”: http://www.squidoo.com/ournestingblackbirds#module9409133
21 Facts about Blackbirds: http://www.rspb.org.uk/community/wildlife/f/13609/t/8956.aspx
November 30, 2012
That Something Worth Living For (Poetry, Freewrite)
My second chances
Is all burned up like matches
So much for happy ever after
How about never?
They say faith starts with
Just a seed
But all I got is a thorn
Can I really be saved,
Or will I be left lyin’ on the floor
Lyin’ to myself
Wishin I was someone else…
My second chances is all burned up
My dreams have turned to ashes
Tears sting — heart pounds
Blood rushing through my veins
Can’t see what is in front of me
But ready to jump–
Ready to scale a wall
Ready to fight
To give my all
To get a glimpse of that white light
That hope-
That something worth living for.
Lynn Mari, © 2012.
“Ray of Hope”. Lynn Mari 2009.
This is a new style of poetry I am trying out — grin — it’s an unfinished poem!
October 4, 2012
Women Treacherously Dealt With (Poetry)
Jeremiah 12:6, “For even your brethren, and the house of your father, even they have dealt treacherously with you; yea, they have called a multitude after you:
believe them not, though they speak fair words unto you.”
I. The Obedient Wife
You stood beside the pews,
Smiling as people passed,
Did they see the smirk?
The nasty gleam in your eye?
I did.
I felt your intent as you squeezed a little too hard
On a frail elbow, causing bruises to ripple across papery skin.
One hand casually jungles the pills in your pocket—
Feeling the smooth oval gave you a little high
The man who came in the dark
With cellophane packages
Had you feeling like a saint
Even as your terrorized your wife and children
You handed out judgment an hour before church–
The car swerves off the road, towards an embankment
You scream we are no good to you, no more
Then carefully straighten the wheels
My face is blank—any emotion will provoke further rage
Sssh children, sit up straight, don’t cry
Long ago, I learned to hold back tears
To walk down the aisle with a “good Christian man”.
II. The Loyal Friend
When I stood beside a dark freeway
Smoke pouring from my hood
I was so grateful you answered my call—
The one I could trust,
The one who sang the loudest in church
And winked at the old ladies ‘til they giggled
High fivin’ the guys, confident smile
You made it so easy to talk
Soon we were lost in each other’s thoughts,
And found our way in each other’s eyes
I thought my prayers were answered
To have a friend like you…
Then one day you answered my call with a demand
I lost a piece of my self as each layer was shed—
My innocence, my hopes and then my clothes,
When you walked into church that morning you were still the same liar
I, however, had changed—
I never wanted to be pretty again,
I never wanted to be the girl that a “good Christian man” would date
So I sliced off my hair with a kitchen shears
And jabbed a razor into the soft flesh inside my arm,
It was much gentler than the razor you used on me,
Cutting so deeply that I wince every time I hear my name
Fearing again that a familiar voice will violate my trust.
III. The Fallen Woman
I am beauty hidden in a black wool sweater
Shoulders slump from the large bag at my side,
Another burden to carry
Containing the remnants of my former life—
Torn photographs, Lost coins, Hotline numbers
Crumpled papers, Broken pretzels, Haphazard dreams
I cringe from any bit of attention given to me
Cry until my nose is red, and runny, at the thought
The possibility—that God really does love a sinner like me
From across the aisle, I feel your gaze linger on my face
You follow every jagged scar, and smile
Causing my breath to shudder,
Maybe it’s true—I am loveable, somehow
I feel so small when you pull me into a hug,
You were there to fix all my worries, my clogged drain
And found a way to make me laugh again
Like the explosion of a supernova,
Our love shone brighter than all the light in the universe
Only to plunge into a vast darkness
The kitchen bubbles with the aroma of old world cooking
A table set for two…instead one sits with a shadow
My fingers caress the mold stretching across the dinner plate,
Remembering…
The warmth of your tears against my heart,
When you told me of your past,
How you want to be a better man…
But, somehow, getting closer drove you away
You had all the power, and the control
I was holding onto a fragile promise
Of redemption for a fallen women.
Believe them not, though they speak fair words unto you…
Lynn Mari, © 2012
This poem is based on a collection of personal stories from friends.. this poem is not to bash men but to raise awareness about abuse & abusive attitudes towards women in the church.
I hope to get the conversation started about how worldly attitudes are creeping into church, and affecting the way Christians relate to each other..too many women have been silent while being hurt by the men who are supposed to protect them. No more.
June 27, 2012
Speaking Through Tears Shed in Pain (Poetry/Double Haiku)
Being with You again
Speaking through tears shed in pain
Prayers fall like rain.
To die is to gain
I know that I will remain
Free from ev’ry chain.
Lynn Mari, 2012
Based on Phillipians Chapter 1:http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Phillipians%201&version=NIV
Image Courtesy of: http://www.christart.com
May 30, 2012
Last Embrace on Memorial Day (Haiku, Poetry)
On the tear stained grass,
palm pressed against gray stone,
Memorial Day
– Lynn Mari, 2012.
Inspired By: “Red Poppies and Memorial Day 2011″
Published in May 28th, 2011. by Berlet98.
http://www.genelalor.com/blog1/?p=4670
(Picture credited to John Moore, Getty Images, http://blogs.gettyimages.com/news/2007/05/30/memorial-day-at-arlington-national-cemetery/ )
March 18, 2012
Toadstool House in Avon (Limerick)
In a toadstool house in Avon,
Lives 3 foot tall Sean
Though you have to limbo to see his eyes,
Personality makes up for his size
He’s an adorable leprechaun.
– — Lynn Mari, © 2012
January 20, 2012
President Taft: A Woman’s Desire
“I am not in favor of suffrage for women until I can be convinced that all the women desire it; and when they desire it I am in favor of giving it”– President William Taft, 2/2/1909
For a man who speaks of a woman’s desire
President Taft has slid off the lid
By failing to acknowledge to what we aspire
Use your charm with jiggling belly and crooked smile
To which, my desire for suffrage is more encouraged
I wouldn’t give up my vote for the jewels of the Nile
Go milk your cow Mooly Woolly
Outta my way, I gotta battle to fight
Smashing china and chains of domesticity
On what a woman desires, you and I disagree
Like bathtub you got stuck in, this debate is tight
The strongman pulled with all his might
And still couldn’t get you free!
Your vice-president is missing, I hear
There are many candidates at your front door
Women who work hard everyday of the year
We are an army to fear
With nothing to loose, and everything to live for
President Taft give us the vote, we stand and cheer!
Lynn Mari, © 2010.
