Purified by Love and Ink

I will meet with my gut doctor in a few hours… to discuss the tummy treatment that comes to an end tomorrow (wooohooo!)… and to schedule tests to see if the medications worked like they were supposed to. My symptoms have shown improvement. I’ve been able to eat more things—including ice cream, raw foods, and a little meat—so that’s already good news. Now to see what my innards have to show. Well, to schedule the seeing… Keep your fingers and toes crossed (your eyes, too). 😉

I leave you with 5 of the blackout poems I’ve shared on Instagram and/or Facebook these last few weeks. Although unplanned, I really like the overall motifs embraced by these poems. I love what they say about self, about storms, about words… Which is your favorite, my Wicked Luvs? Why?

“In Her”
In her,
there is a storm
born of change
and of her magic.
In Her

You can be purified by love and ink.

“Touch Your Self”
Touch your self with feeling.
Touch Yourself

I am stories.

In a storm, I found roots.

Bloom, Bone of My Bones

Spring feeds on their love making, on her pain, on her blood… and helps her birth life into their garden. The canvas that wraps her babe’s bones is still red, malleable and fragile, with the sweat of her inner paints. Her womb feels empty, but her arms and heart brim with tomorrow’s green.

When her babe cries in the night, she grows teeth on her thorns, shoots iced-flames out of her eye, and cold-burns any threat. Her all stands between her babe and the unbalanced darkness—the dark that promises to pull, to reap, to crunch, to swallow and excrete, if she ever closes both eyes.

bloom, bone of my bones;
be petal, fall, be snowstorm
mom’s guarding your all

written for Let’s Haibun Her a Tale – Dark Poetry for the Cruellest Month, 2016 (Day 6)
and linked to dVerse, Open Link Night

detail from Shelle Kennedy’s “Madonna of the Flowers”detail from Shelle Kennedy’s “Madonna of the Flowers”
find Shelle on her blog, Etsy shop, and Facebook
(and tell her she needs to paint more stuff!)