Saturday, August 13, 2022

Hearts Rinsed in Gold

 
Sacred Heart
—Photo by Cynthia Linville
—Poetry by Cynthia Linville, Rocklin, CA
—Sylvan Cemetery Photos by Katy Brown, 
Davis, CA


RINSED IN GOLD

Diamonds fall
drop by drop
from the hot blue sky.

This slow rain
feels a little
hallucinogenic

like walking on the very edge of a cliff
then falling back
dizzied by relief.

The rain falls faster
shines like a mirror
cuts like a river between darkness and light.

Today she is rinsed in gold—
her heart watermarked
by the rain.
 
 
 
Cherub and Cat


A DIFFERENT KIND OF ALASKA

Nearly everything undiscovered
has no color
is bathed in a different kind of light

Years have disappeared here
into the stillness of snow
into a frozen silence

This is a place where someone can never follow,
a place you can bury your lost hopes
and forget your vivid desires

This is a place where you can become
nothing but an artifact
of what once was 
 
 
 
 In Loving Hands


YOU ARE DISAPPEARING
 
You’re just at the edge
pillowed in that curious sameness that
gently wafts you into
all directions at once
 
You are disappearing
in the in-be-tween
where pearly shapes
shift softly
 
Already dreaming—
you’re here and
somewhere else
trailing visions
 
lost in the gravity of
a thick white blanket pulled up to your chin—
lost in yourself
lost in a rhythm
 
 
 
 Mary in Clouds


THE THINGS THAT KEEP YOU
AWAKE AT NIGHT

Inside these words
the residue of desire
clings to the back of his teeth—
indelible yet inexpressible.

He says something existential about
how empty the world is
and something enigmatic about how
we don’t choose what claims us

but what he really means is that
being near her feels like church
that she seems to radiate a holy light.

He feels like an exposed nerve.
He wants to disappear into
the unbearable gentleness of her aura.

He wants to unspool all his thoughts
and be understood
unspool all his desires
and be requited.

But this is something he can’t talk his way into
or think his way out of.
She is impervious to his hope.

He says, “Catch you later,”
and with the wave of a hand
casually recedes
back into land of outcasts.
 
 
 
Phoenix
 
 
TRANSFIGURATION

She’s been hiding here
behind this door
marked by her secrets

Now she’s ready to open the door
become something more than
mirrored reflections doubling back forever

She’s ready to un-martyr herself
unravel the old narratives

             *  *  *

Narratives unravel
entrapments crumble
into thin dark lines

In her reflection
she can just see
a heroine shining

Her fist smashes the mirror
opening up
a new path

She steps through the glass

             *  *  *

Now mirrors reflect
her power

In this narrative
she keeps creating her path

No more entrapments
no more doubling back

______________________

Today’s LittleNip:

I take pleasure in my transformations. I look quiet and consistent, but few know how many women there are in me.

― Anaïs Nin

______________________

Welcome back to long-time SnakePal Cynthia Linville, with poems of love and loss and creating new paths for ourselves. New paths are definitely needed these days, yes? And thanks to Katy Brown for her ever-intriguing photos, too.

Sac. Poetry Alliance has two events today: the second session of The Way of Poetry this morning (their workshop on Japanese forms), and this afternoon a reading by Emmanuel Sigauke and Aeisha Jones at The Library of MusicLandria. Also in Sacramento, this time in the evening, T-Mo Entertainment presents HerStory, an entertainment and empowerment event with poetry by Larue and Terry Moore; and Brickhouse Art Gallery features Roshumba tonight. A full day! Click UPCOMING NORCAL EVENTS at the top of this column for details about these and other future poetry events in the NorCal area.

_______________________

—Medusa
 
 
 
Fairy Door
—Photo by Katy Brown
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 



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