Beauty Cottonwood trees, John Lennon’s “Imagine,” Sunsets. It occurs to us, we are sometimes blind to beauty. A crowded market. The genuine laughter of children. We barely sleep, dreaming only of all the “togetherness” coming our way. What do people even smell like anymore? Our mother’s bosom feels nearer to a stranger. We fall toContinue reading “Beauty”
Author Archives: Emily Olsen
whispered on the moor
whispered on the moor a dream came to me recently it broke through the morning past sunrise and into my waking thoughts in this dream I walk the rocky shoreline of a rust-coloured beach finding coins along the way over and over I place these treasures into my palms pounds, shillings and pence the furtherContinue reading “whispered on the moor”
the curious nature of childhood
The Curious Nature Of Childhood a soul inside a body that falls from a bicycle blood flows from skinned knees, gravel under skin birds-eye view The me that watched the me that wondered: “Will I be in trouble?” “Does Karma know I left my friend’s house late?” what is disobedience if not genuine forgetfulness anContinue reading “the curious nature of childhood”
A World Set Ablaze
A World Set Ablaze We are burning. A world set ablaze, by “Us and Them.” We no longer recognize, friend from foe. The mounting lies and half-truths sicken us, make loathsome borders about our hearts. We fan the flames of division, speak without thought. Tempt ignorance. A fractured whole, this ruptured core an inferno. ThisContinue reading “A World Set Ablaze”
what is a stage?
What is a stage? A playwright, set to move you. A pin drop. Twirling and spinning, a woven tale, threads of a life gone by. We pull and pull, unravel each little tragedy. We dance on those graves. We tear about, make mess of it all. We pick up the pieces, the humour, everywhere. Don’tContinue reading “what is a stage?”
Seeing Through the Trees
I miss Saturday road trips in my old car. A stick-shift silver Volvo, with cracked leather seats and a busted overdrive. Nothin’ better than Paul Simon, a packed lunch and a book, noon-bound for China Beach. The twisted, turning roads, listening to “Diamonds On the Soles of Her Shoes,” full blast. I’d sing and driveContinue reading “Seeing Through the Trees”
Sedona
Sedona a curved lizard sleeps quietly on a rock orients itself to the influence of heat a slow heart, gentle earth pulse hiss, click, rattle, things unseen scurry about, seeking grub and insect, a rare bead of moisture the cak cak of a Cooper’s hawk echoes from a distant canyon makes for a kind ofContinue reading “Sedona”
poetry pre-requisite
poetry pre-requisite make inferences: Koyczan, Cohen, Crozier then none at all sit with Morton, expose your roots plant thoughts in the earth of your words and cultivate them study Pelman, to travel the world make of your work, a train station journey there, stay awhile, leave remember home, light through the window seek out heirloomsContinue reading “poetry pre-requisite”
On The Beaches of Pākawau
On The Beaches of Pākawau One morning in small-town New Zealand, a pod of pilot whales became stranded on the beaches of Pākawau. Every man, woman, and child took to the scene. I remember my family, spilling from the car and watching my parents sprint barefoot to aid the whales. I tried to follow alongContinue reading “On The Beaches of Pākawau”
ANAM CARA (Soul Friend)
ANAM CARA (Soul Friend) If I shared with you the coward in me—what keeps me awake at night, we’d likely become friends. We’d share our torments and contemplate the afflictions of our humanness, the absurdity of perfection. This would be the way we came to know one another. This would be the way we met.Continue reading “ANAM CARA (Soul Friend)”
To Love The Coming End ~ found poem Pt. 2
To Love The Coming End ~ found poem Pt. 2 Let Us Compare Mythologies The Year Of Our Beautiful Exile A Mind Spread Out On The Ground The Dead And The Living No Time To Say Goodbye
Four Passes Through The River ~ Found Poem Pt.1
Four Passes Through The River ~ found poem Pt.1 the song of water once a breathing spirit exiled to stand as if excess the will of water makes narrow passage of lies silence the magic of water tilts the earth calling heaven back the bones of water the thing itself a signature of God living
prison
prison I remember depression. Melancholy, a set of hooks upon my face. Weighted chains pulled skin from my smile. A mind in endless chaos, a pain like no other. My spirit dimmed, any chance of freedom thwarted by despair. And so it was, that in this despair, this turning away, I realized the prison IContinue reading “prison”
the parachute is you
the parachute is you If ever you stand at the door of an airplane and feel immense fear[something great is about to happen] but you tighten your harness[the universe always has your back] trust in the parachute and consciously[deliberately] decide[practice] to let go, then the trip down will be a damn good deal of fun[appreciation]Continue reading “the parachute is you”
Letters Never Sent ~ for JR
Letters Never Sent ~ for JR My dear ones, I miss you. Earlier today I walked to “Old Towns.” I stopped to pick berries along the way. The salmonberries, sweet and satisfying, brought me to memories from my past and an appreciation for youth. I paused many times to savour the sights and sounds ofContinue reading “Letters Never Sent ~ for JR”
Brick & Mortar
Brick & Mortar Why do we build structures to house our dreams and ideas? Why do we hold back and wait for the comfort and safety of the perfected thing? When can the inspiration of genius take its place in raw form, enter the universe through us, and be uplifted by others at its inception?Continue reading “Brick & Mortar”
flourish
flourish winter is over everyone has lost something how else do we grow
fragile at first
Fragile at First It has been said that trees can take away your sorrow. The whole of the forest will swallow your sadness and dispel your grief. Lean against those grand trunks. Feel all of it. Open your wounds to new air and bend toward healing. Make way for the light through the leaves ofContinue reading “fragile at first”
United Nations Declaration on the Rights of Indigenous Peoples
No poem today— save that of a turned head, tilted to listen an open mind, called to question a considerate heart, tasked to act. ~ Emily Olsen Unites Nations Declaration on the Rights of Indigenous People Article 12 1.”Indigenous people have the right to manifest, practise, develop and teach their spiritual and religious traditions, customsContinue reading “United Nations Declaration on the Rights of Indigenous Peoples”
there are stars
there are stars though we wish to burst forth, unleash our shared love in supernova feel again, the pulse of one another together in perfect proximity the waning is not yet complete though it feels like light years endure this blue-moon time though it feels like light years embrace this exceptional longing— it is notContinue reading “there are stars”
the miracle before me
the miracle before me a crescendo of strings and horn harken the river blue my heart is overjoyed by the beautiful Danube this confluence of sound and my want for hearing it an exultation the moment before this waltz the world prior to any creation this composers ink to paper a miracle
appreciation of beauty
Appreciation of Beauty beauty the perfection of good timing and déjá vu the heart beating in your chest a prayer beauty a newspaper, curled down on one side, your Grandfather winking at you as you giggle, close your mouth, and remember to eat your cornflakes quieter this time beauty this human form spring rain aContinue reading “appreciation of beauty”
that they may know
that they may know I teach my children through music Ella Fitzgerald Dizzy Gillespie Nina Simone because the things I think I know like dust and scratches provide no resonance I teach my children stereo and mono show them a steady hand how to place the needle in the pause before a song the quietContinue reading “that they may know”
Guidance
Guidance Dear body: breathe eagerness into my life, make keen this vessel bestowed upon me. Dear spirit: evoke in me expressions of joy, delight in a contented nature. Dear mind: manifest the truthful unfolding of my reality, and direct and govern my thoughts with discipline. Dear heart: soften me when I become hard, make gentleContinue reading “Guidance”
Into the Mystic
grief found me today through a Van Morrison song tears as I went about my chores a flood of memories dust particles dance about the room above your collection of vinyl each album packed neatly into a tower of milk crates “Blue,” “Kind of Blue,” “Lady Sings the Blues,” a small maroon Buddha keeps yourContinue reading “Into the Mystic”
Settler
Settler I am vine of English Ivy working my way across the forest floor encroaching on every space a colony of green unhindered I plant roots, shallow but insidious I invade I claim everywhere, everything still, I have to be sure these trees, like mountains or rivers, are too, mine for the taking like slitheringContinue reading “Settler”
tender mercy, an exploration with the inner child
tender mercy – an exploration with the inner child when we finally met it felt like I knew you the ease at which our pain ceased in those early days together, made way for many possibilities later, pain emerged we caused it in each other, worked out our demons, we drudged up, dragged out pushedContinue reading “tender mercy, an exploration with the inner child”
a dedication
a dedication If you’re reading this Cody Graham, I’m working on it. You know, “the book,” the one you asked me to dedicate to you in our high school writing class? I’m nearing 43 years old now. Words scattered about in various journals, boxes, notes on my phone, the google drive.You can see it onContinue reading “a dedication”
Water
water when I was a child I loved to swim and there is something about being underwater that feels right for me and sometimes even now I let myself imagine I am underwater again where every piece of me is wrapped and held and I am young once more and then comes that moment whenContinue reading “Water”
Steadfast
Steadfast Remember the back of your grandmother’s hands, her life, a wrinkle of lines your mother’s mother burst forth from stars through radio waves, rockets, and rebellion to meet you In her time, bombs created constellations then fell in formation around her heart Decades of war cast shadows on her bones but from them she forgedContinue reading “Steadfast”
Medicine Dream
Medicine Dream I saw the buffalo-man and the universe delighted dreams set stars on my heart, turning them to stone that I might resonate with a star-less night a mighty seeker came down choosing this body, with its many desires and misery wanting, again, to experience a whale’s flight through water a bear within herContinue reading “Medicine Dream”
Aotearoa
water crashes on high-tide shores stirring sand and seaweed long after yesterday’s storm rain’s drizzle dampens driftwood forts resurrected again and again by children you and me a lifetime ago where stingray sailing beneath the surf fly gracefully together toward sand bars of calm a gathering of family you and you and you andContinue reading “Aotearoa”
From My Heart To Yours ~ For John Pogachar
Sitting under a merge sign in my car on the side of a highway. Same as any other highway. Same as the highways Bob Seger sings about, same as any other day. Like when I ‘ran away’ at 19. Just up and left work, right in the middle of my shift. The title “Prep Cook”Continue reading “From My Heart To Yours ~ For John Pogachar”
tide
water tinkling across barnacles pebbles rendered smooth by waves gentle not unlike kindness
Autumn Leaves
Autumn Leaves As a young child growing up in New Zealand, I remember dreaming about autumn in Canada. Fall leaves, like the ones I imagined while listening to Joni Mitchell records, lined country roads with reds and oranges and yellows and every other colour that fills a heart with warmth. In my imaginings, Canada wasContinue reading “Autumn Leaves”
our names etched in the wood remnants of an old shack at Eddy Lake ~ for Leila
Our names etched in the wood remnants of an old shack at Eddy Lake we knew just how to slide the upstairs window open in unison with the faucet at the kitchen sink parents fill the kettle for tea as we descend the fire escape ladder thankful the light inside the house masks ourContinue reading “our names etched in the wood remnants of an old shack at Eddy Lake ~ for Leila”
Sound ~ for Sarah Shivarani
Sound ~ for Sarah Shivarani swim underwater and listen for silence silence beyond the heart-pulse in your ears silence more familiar than a womb for all those times it was too loud, too much listen for the sound of who you are write write every book ever written in your head sing draw the oldContinue reading “Sound ~ for Sarah Shivarani”
money, zucchini’s and me
money, zucchini’s and me What is it about money that calls me to write a poem? each letter paying the mortgage, each word, my visa bill(s). I go to the local farm stand where reusable bags stand in for guilt (the plastic of our emotions) I want to thank the soil but can I trulyContinue reading “money, zucchini’s and me”
Forty Years Now
Forty Years Now a pocketful of sand I’ve searched beaches for myself a box of letters I’ve written them all to nobody a scar across my abdomen I’ve fallen into motherhood to bliss an oversized wedding ring I’ve shrunken into love with you to know a sibling to really know them to know me asContinue reading “Forty Years Now”
Vegemite
Vegemite Vegemite is all the hours mum spent rolling bread dough. It is aprons dusted with flour, some on her face, some on the floor. Vegemite is fresh bread’s scent wafting down the hallway, toasted and buttery. Vegemite is childhood slathered on top of those memories. The yellow labeled jars emptied and filled with beachContinue reading “Vegemite”
11:37
11:37 It’s 11:37, again. Today, and on so many days, when I glance at the clock. 11:37 I’m reminded of your first breath. 11:37 I, brought on by your light, am introduced to all the goodness in me, my best self. Funny, how nothing of who I was before you, seemed relevant. Your perfect everything,Continue reading “11:37”
just ask jackrabbit
just ask jackrabbit somewhere in a photo box lives the real truth of this town before ghosts, before cars lined in rows became headstones in a graveyard rusting, dusty sunken into dirt even before the well was empty town hall graffitied, boarded up, condemned. somewhere there is proof but coyotes run rampant a Great HornedContinue reading “just ask jackrabbit”
Little Cabin Rabby-Tack
Little Cabin Rabby-Tack Little brother freckle-face what do you see? Lying on your stomach, reaching into sea. Driftwood fishing line discarded at your feet, squinty-eyed to sun glare cockabully. Little sister scruffy-hair what do you see? Knees deep in low-tide pools, singing happily. Gumboots full of water Feet and hands in glee, sun-kissed glow ofContinue reading “Little Cabin Rabby-Tack”
What I’m Not Saying
What I’m Not Saying that pearls are my birthstone, Am I limited by birth? Begin each day with a breath say goodbye to yesterday like the sun’s light on dew, a droplet rendered dry What I’m not saying is, I’m blind I’m blinded by love, the removal of yours What I’m not saying is laughterContinue reading “What I’m Not Saying”
Daughter
Daughter “Where’s your favourite place on earth?” my daughter asks. “It’s a simple question Mum.” And it is. But the choosing of just one place worries me. It renders the places left out, not good enough. Like that house I lived in for a month when I was eight years old. The place that myContinue reading “Daughter”
a place to plant a seed
a place to plant a seed what are masks if not versions of ourselves we remove and bury again and again and again until all that remains is dirt and soil and earth
Everything Gets Their Turn
Everything Gets Their Turn butterfly born of darkness seek light shift about the straight-jacket of birth a pressure on beauty awake asleep awake forgets caterpillar chrysalis crickets of the field conduct blade of grass as Strings orchestrate stridulations sound a twilight song earth’s axis tilts toward summer to her small creatures giving them time too
To Write Is To Get It Wrong ~ Over And Over
To Write Is To Get It Wrong ~ Over And Over When I sit down to write I go on a sort of road trip; a plane ride, a swim, a horseback ride. I take that first step never quite knowing where I’ll end up, not concerning myself with it. I picture taking flight asContinue reading “To Write Is To Get It Wrong ~ Over And Over”
upon a parent’s dying
upon a parent’s dying knowing nobody in grief not yourself you wash your father’s feet while east and west collide in kindness and palms are grace and you water and you wash your mother’s feet of earth and dust laugh into pails of gladness as tears come knowing them now
The African Queen ~ for Mum
The African Queen ~ for Mum In recalling your love for technicolor love, I believe you be a Rose a scented heart a thorn in hand just enough sharp just enough sweet that wretched machine threatened to ruin the VHS (the older version of your love) ‘just blow gently on the ribbon, it’ll work again,Continue reading “The African Queen ~ for Mum”