18 Feb 2012
by paigedoughty
in Old Posts, Poetry
And sadness sets in.
I look back from a place
that is not as far forward
as I once imagined.
Is there some vantage point,
we reach when we see
forward and behind
equally?
When we are young
time is a slug
creeping ahead
its slime sticks our feet to the ground.
We want the future,
to speed past where we are
to reach the place we think we are going.
Time is portrayed
As a cruel companion
grinning eerily over a shoulder
When we are old.
We want the past back
where we are
to reach the place we once where.
When does it happen
this metamorphosis,
from glue
to lubricant?
When time switches
from a snail
to a lighting rod?
18 Jun 2008
by paigedoughty
in Old Posts, Poetry
Losing grounding
In scheduled chaos.
I want to trust
and find over and over again,
fear.
Of what?
Commitment.
Danger
of
certainty.
Yet you seek security?
What strength can be gained from forever in flux?
27 May 2008
by paigedoughty
in Old Posts, Poetry
Goddesses Dancing
I can’t get the smell of campfire out of my hair.
Our eyes meet over the fire,
over a grave,
under a full moon.
Together we bring life to lifeless places.
Our voices meet over the fire,
under the waning moon,
above headstones long set to earth.
I can’t get the smell of campfire out of my skin,
our bodies meet the crisp fall air,
the dead in the ground,
the moonlit night.
We give each other peace and part ways in the morning,
like lovers, or long lost friends.
Our eyes, and voices, and bodies,
meet over the fire.
And the smell lingers in the folds of my clothes,
the flecks of my skin,
leaves me aching
for that perfect moon night.
When we were goddesses dancing,
moon shadows over ground,
voices rising,
women singing ourselves to life.
26 May 2008
by paigedoughty
in Old Posts, Poetry
Let the dawn come over you.
You are not the dawn, though the dawn is you.
The earth is you.
You are not the earth, though the earth is you.
Let it come creeping, slowly, with you, awake.
We all wake up too fast in this
rush rush culture.
To hear the cars outside my window,
is a disappointment,
a terrible way to be woken.
Alarm clock honking,
sounding, even through
the dark cold winter,
when we should all rest some more
to save for summer
when light is long.
26 May 2008
by paigedoughty
in Old Posts, Poetry
Death it awaits and waits,
We think. Or does it wait at all?
In every minute death is there,
and life in equal parts.
It is our choice to see death and life,
and to dance, alive, in bodies,
full of time.
Sit in a cafe and watch the people around you,
immersed in their lives.
With x-ray vision see their beating hearts.
Each one different, but serving the same function.
We are walking heart beats.
Harbor no fear in those dark places,
instead choose life and light
in every moment.
Then we will be with death too,
and walk lightly amongst the living.
15 May 2008
by paigedoughty
in Old Posts, Poetry
We are born whole,
And then slowly broken into pieces.
For some this cracking is swift and violent,
For others it takes years.
Still for others the cracks may never be seen.
This falling apart.
It is a part of life.
But life isn’t pieces,
We just see it that way,
Because we are not taught
To look for wholes.
Only holes.
Holes in the fabric of our lives,
In our selves,
In our minds.
In our bodies.
Holes masked as
Emptiness,
Lacking,
Fear,
Suffering,
Privilege
Self doubt,
Self deprecation
Resentment,
Oppression.
All these break us,
Takes away that whole child
We once were.
Until one day,
We wake up.
And we can see,
The cracks filling with the light,
The pieces pulling back into place.
The new journey begins
and we let life put us together again.
28 Apr 2008
by paigedoughty
in Old Posts, Poetry
All Around You
You don’t have to be alone.
It’s silly to think you are.
You are never alone,
all around you the earth is conscious,
all around you the trees hear your thoughts,
and answer your prayers if you listen.
28 Apr 2008
by paigedoughty
in Old Posts, Poetry
The Mess
There is no mess,
there is only here and now, past and future.
You are not a mess, you are fine.
You are beautiful.
Though it feels like walking in circles,
like muddled repetition,
you are a butterfly born over and over each day,
crawling from your cocoon, seeing the way forward in each moment.
Stablity doesn’t exist.
Except the ground beneath your feet,
the rock against your back,
the tree holding you strong.
Let yourself be held.
07 Apr 2008
by paigedoughty
in Old Posts, Poetry
I am crushed bones.
A flower stepped on by a brown leather business shoe, in a cold black gutter.
Above my lying still body, the moon is almost full.
Its light is masked by the glow of a street lamp.
My eyes, like petals, stare up into a well-lit sky.
Above, an airplane.
Passengers looking out round windows,
to see a landscape of light.
Car wheels pass.
And I am still breathing.
