Feb 13 2015

This offering is for all those love-poets who still believe in love, in all of its many-faceted forms. We here celebrate love in its sticky thorniness, believing as we do that gender is a thing with feathers. Poetry may not save the world, but it could just save your relationship. I disagree with Shakespeare–kind of–he says music is the fruit of love, but I say it’s poetry. So dig in–let the nectar drip from your lips, run down your neck, let the music of these words play on . . .

“The Offering”

There were moments you slew me,
With a grindstone of curses

I’ll cut off your head to bring the rain
This god with his liver dangling beneath the ribs like a bell
I will ring it till it peals, peals, peals

Plastic trinkets in an offering box
A skull with spine attached

A shaman greeted you and beat
you lightly with branches
It was a blessing, a welcome to this city

Milagros pinned to a shrine
Calcium grins grim
Face to face with volcanic stone

I’ll never forget, my enemy or my lover’s shape
Cradling a head in my hands, memorizing the bony plates

Below the cobblestones
Temples built over temples
Riding the lake under the bed of the city

I’ll cut off your head to bring the rain
Wear your hair and face to the temple
And light the braziers, the belly
A stone bowl carved to hold a beating heart

Brenda Coultas

mayanheart Read More >

Feb 7 2015

To the burnished waters

snaking facets

of silver minnows

in my back yard.

Meek cousin

to the royal

ocean,

humble tendril.

You toss

your

white

stones

onto the shore

like bread

for

the poor,

pearls

I string

into a path. Read More >