Some Poetry:

I am already almost overwhelmed with the warmth and excitement that I have received about this project. My heart is fluttering, thank you to all who expressed interest.

Here are some short poems (or fragments of poems). My plan is that I want feedback on which words or lines (if any) you feel most connected to. Again, these words are mine but I want you to make them yours.

1.

there is something in me that is aching to be delicate,

it weeps while the rest of me cackles.

(#1 is no longer available, as it now appears on someone's skin)

2.

oh, canyon mouth

I hear the coyotes

and the echo of loneliness

When you speak.

3.

my flesh is the peach

my heart is the pit;

my teeth are an eagle

and the sky is my spit.

my pale body is too big for this room.

4.

without seeking home

the traveler grows weary

on tired feet.

5.

I've never opened my mouth so wide in my entire life.

6.

I just want us all to wake up.

7.

it hurts in my chest

where beautiful things

like butterflies with sharp wings

are trying to rip me apart.

(#7 is no longer available)

8.

So when you ask

Who are you talking to?

don't worry

I am just remembering

9.

My father created me out of thin air,

My mother was an ocean of tears,

And my entire life has been a lesson in

e v a p o r a t i o n.

(#9 is no longer available)

10.

I stay stuck

Where I want to stay stuck.

11.

I recall

I spit splinters for days.

12.

I hand you a fistful of dirt

and ask to be covered in gold.

13.

not everything conducts electricity

14.

I've been ending things beautifully for years.

15.

Open your eyes

(Open your heart)

16.

It takes so long for me to slow my heartbeat,

Feels like I'm slamming too hard on tired breaks.

17.

I want you to know that you

are not alone

stand like you can just disregard

all this gravity

19.

the notes bent and your bowlegs swayed.

20.

oh,

it was only

minutes.

(no longer available)

21.

The sun shines even in winter,

and the octopus has three hearts

but cannot feel;

so maybe it's not too late for me.

22.

You make me tired,

you make this feel like math.

22.

I found God in a dried out log, his body was a mass of fire ants that bit my wrists and then scattered cowardly.

23.

And still these fingers weave, in and out like they’re breathing. Breathing unevenly like unwanted company in a small room, clumsily running into each other and anxiously waiting to be introduced.

Why am I one with you but a roomful of strangers alone?

24.

"Aim all that misguided praise

inward

and hold on."

25.

"You're somewhere being

LOUD."

26.

"With the sounds of piano keys

Crunching of leaves

The spinning of a globe

In a first grade classroom

When you believed that you could

Span

That

Distance. "

27.

"This never happened."

28.

With these eyes even closed I have seen you

Arching your back to let those wounds that adorn that perfect spine sing

and the song

though often out of key

gives me hope that one day

they will heal

29.

a toothless sound

mistaken for a mastery
of one one-millionth of the english language.

30.

At times it was so gray it looked silver.

(no longer available)

31.

this disjointed dialogue speaks of closeness.

32.

If I had wings

I'd beat them

hard and fast

Like anywhere would be better

(even though it wouldn't)

All words written by Amy Moore between 2008 and 2011.

(more to come later)