Wednesday, March 30, 2016

A woman's orchestra

A woman's orchestra

Babies do not have to come
from your womb
in order to be sung to

Thursday, March 24, 2016

Monday, March 21, 2016

A song for the South China Sea

Art by Sandra Moreano and Words by Courtney Hanes

We now sing
of a love that binds
an altered course
sinking the hate
on an anchor of pain
through mist
until they meet again

Friday, March 18, 2016

The greatest love story

The greatest love story
is like
fresh purple grapes
on a February day
dripping with taste
  sometimes in hast
(that's how you learn).

Thursday, March 17, 2016

Sleeping while the moon is full

Sleeping while the moon is full

the man at the counter says I look like his niece Alexandra
who doesn’t take no for an answer either
and looks at him with the same crinkled, confused face. 
she thinks it is impossibly foolish to 
attempt sleeping while the moon is full
and says we are not meant to lie down    easily when the night sky is so bright
that is when we should hit the road and drive all night

I smile

he smells like coffee and cinnamon rolls
his eyes are fierce with regret and mistakes,

and I wonder if he realizes what his own face looks like

Tuesday, March 15, 2016

I glamorize

I glamorize the Alaskan Frontier, 
but wonder if I’d ever have the guts 

to kill and prepare the animals  I eat every single day 

Sunday, March 13, 2016

A nod to Shel Silverstein

It is

It is a heart-warming experience
to borrow a book from a man 
who loves his mother
and listen to a sweet six year old 
read about a tree that lives
to give
and gives to live. 

It leaves one feeling 
lucky for the shepherd
who served his time,
found a boat,
and sailed back to build a home
with wood 
from a tree he carved himself. 

We are the tree that 
gives to live,
and lives to give. 

So be it, so be it. 

Thursday, March 3, 2016

Some are better prepared

some are better prepared
to take
the news that rattles and
spooks without warning
with no time to duck, cover, or
hold on for dear life.

some are better prepared
to let
it wash over their bodies and
face. clean. like a fresh start.
or a new flower, growing alongside
a field of beat down weeds.

some are better prepared
to release
the nastiness and stench of a thing
that they did not ask for, 
and are forever questioning.

some are better prepared
to close their eyes to betrayal
that knocked on the door and let itself in
with a secret key. secrets love company.

some are better prepared


Poem by Courtney Hanes are by Sandra Moreano