Composting article

I wrote an article on composting for Worldchanging Seattle.

It's great to have another freelance piece out in the world!

A New Space

June 30, 2008

I moved my things -
and my heart -
into a new space
(a familiar, but more comfortable one).

I found your expectations in a box of books,
your hopes mixed in among my pots and pans.
How did your kisses find their way into my bedsheets?

Confused (but pleased) I evaluate the cracks in the paint,
accepting the beauty of each imperfection.
This house and I understand each other.

Perhaps you were here all along?

to be content with you

June 30, 2008

quiet, calm
balmy night air through the screen door
sunset, light purple, pink, blue
perfume of summer flowers
sprawled out like childhood friends
or lovers
sharing secrets, nothing, everything
the moment
it's hard to imagine being happier

Poetry response

Inspiration poem:

Why it was love - Catherine Randall Craft

Three times crying in your arms -
span of twenty-four hours

began to wonder if my tears
could really be caused and
comforted by the same thing

space between us
didn't matter, felt the
soft thud of your heartbeat
next to mine all the same

and I turned my head into
your hand
so my tears found their way
down creases in your palm's skin -
folds of past and future -
wet salty fingertips held so close to my eyes

then being suddenly drawn closer
so my face and your touched -
I love you
into your shoulder and
into my ear
your cheek left stained with saline from mine -

if I begin to apologize, you kiss my stomach

and speak of my responsibility
in maintaining your sanity -
in my mind I interrupt you
with I love you -


My response:

By Jacqueline White
September 4, 2001

You walk up to me.
You look in my eyes and see right through this façade.
The word “Hello” escapes your lips.
A simple “Hi” slips from mine.

I wonder what’s happened to us.
I worry about what will come.
Fears of change, the challenge of rebuilding, faith in love.

My mind races –
kiss me and make it all better,
hold me and tell me it will be okay.
You drop your bag and wrap your arms around me –
you always knew.

I close my eyes and breathe in
your scent, your memory, my own longing.

You pull away;
I let you go as I did before.
Our silent conversation is reassurance.

Gingerly you take my hand.
We stand in the midst of a conflict
between past and future, but,
at least for now,

we face it together.

Untitled

I wrote this poem in January 2002, in my second quarter of college. I was writing a lot at this time, and really exploring my ideas and creativity. There are many more from this time that aren't making the cut at the moment. Looking back, I wasn't writing about anything in particular, just playing with words, but I think without knowing it I was talking about depression. A number of family and friends have struggled with depression, and I've definitely gone through low spots in my life. I hope this helps represent the struggle.

Darkness came early tonight
I could feel it in the ice that hit my face
when your eyes met mine in the crowd

your touch eclipsed the sun
until the only light that remained
resided in the fire of your seemed dissatisfaction

I was frightened of the darkness
because all others were hidden away in the night
and the light from your hands blinded me

you faced me in my helplessness
they heard me scream
but you erected a shield of hate
to cut out that which would save us both

and so you let us be outcast to the stars
on the cold side of the universe
until on our own we could not find our way back

you tempted my desires with imagined paths
you maintained your grasp on my naked ankle
the reemerged sun exposed the bruise
from so strong a grasp

I pray you will grow tired, loosen
take those eyes of fire off my face
in these weary hours of almost day.

Reification of You

Written February 2002

I’m afraid to close my eyes
because whenever I do
and sometimes when I don’t
I see you
and I feel the person inside
remembering the way you were

I reify your existence
and in this perfection I have constructed
in our borrowed Eden
the one built piece to piece
by the union of our dreams
I live, I flourish

I’m not afraid of fiction
until it becomes my everything
when I feel myself truly living in
the constraints of my mind
and only breathing with my eyes open
to sustain my body in myth.

Memory

Written January 2002

I can’t forget
Kiss: sticky juice from a ripe orange
Touch: water from melting snow crystals
Presence: chill of the wind through a sweater
Taste: bitterness of good wine
Memory: focused migration of the clouds
Smell: intoxication of pine needles
Don’t come too close
You’ve left your mark on me

Stargazing

I wrote this poem for class in the 8th grade (1996), but somehow I still love it. It may be the only rhyming poem I’ve ever written that I truly enjoy.

Stargazing

Every night I slip away,
to a special spot to play.
My friends are the stars,
the diamonds in the sky.
With them time seems to glide right by.
As I race across the ground,
they shoot through the air;
but sometimes I just stop and stare.
I let their beauty inspire me.
But soon they slowly fade away,
and from the night breaks forth the day.