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karma

October 19, 2009 by LUmansky

Karma

If you’re a big fat woman hanging over a mailbox on 14th St and 6th Ave, Good has found you. Sister, it found me with a pretzel-eatin face telling me how she had never seen such golden hair in all her life. & she finds the need to reiterate, reinforce this as if you don believe her, but you do: golden, honey, like a gold I have never seen.

When they say that beauty lies in the “eye of the beholder” – they mean it.

Beauty lies sprawled over a big blue mailbox, under a streetlamp, near a rundown church on a night where a woman takes a rest for what she calls a “food stop.” Now that she has your attention, she insists she was told when she was young to say a compliment when she’s thinking it & so she will: you just don’t see that color gold everyday. So golden. & this gave me hope &  calm & I collected this Good all for me.

(c) umansky 2009

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welcome

October 19, 2009 by LUmansky

Welcome to I am my own heroine – my poetry blog.

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Winnowing

March 7, 2009 by LUmansky

 

Winnowing

 

 

Let’s say husking, but really its just stringing truthlikes.  Yes, the truth is priceless but what’s given is quickbaked.

 

I mean, imagine the singular:  the given self:

           

 

            Fractured, startling – a genealogy of

            What is lost under the bleak; or what

            is blooming at random. Sometimes, I

            want to stab something good – just

            plunge into a bloom & say:    

 

“see !”

 

Okay, the present is not explained.  You may remember the unfalling, but really you plagiarize.

 

 

*

 

 

The self alone is harboring. No man is an island.  There are two reasons to a life

 

(a)    exploration

(b)    despair

 

 & the road not taken is spectacle.

 

 

 

*

 

A dream: someone scratched open my arm. Forth: blood. Forth: words. Forth: sparrow & flying & lightsounds.  Then, came my heroines.

 

 

 

 

 

                                                                       

*

 

So like a greek play. 

 

The horror of exposure:                                                           you looked for a door.

                                                                                   

found one, and

so it was.

 

*

 

Inching forward – admit the impossible: the ungripping of the heart.

 

The scouring of what you would hold dear to what

 

                                                            is merely chemical.

 

Remember:  an oak can’t thrive in a flower –pot.

 

Yes, this is overgrown,

 

but, lush, all the same.

 

We are all gardeners.

                                                                                                                                   

 

 

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The Used Heart

February 10, 2009 by LUmansky

The Used Heart

 

 

What is not capered off, not pecked at or pecked-in, not taken down a peg or two

What is not                                                                                             no, never you mind.

 

The meanest thing next to a pale place in the sky, reckoned or un-so, is you, honey.  

 

‘Spose the way this all ginghamed – though some might say unseamed  – it’s no longer tucked-in.

 

Here’s a taunt:  I am still.  

 

I am still this.

 

 

© Umansky 2009

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