If not for your sweet curves and sugar lips, how would I know bitterness?
If not for your striking grit, how would I know timidity?
If not for your heavy and boundless laughs, how would I know silence?
Category: Poetry
A Party Where the Only Attendees are Mirrors
a word on hyper-independence
My life has always been one of quiet sovereignty,
a party where the only attendees are mirrors.
For and What If
I yearn for tomorrow,
Read More »Outside the Party
“Let’s go to a party,” you say.
Please don’t leave me alone in it, I think.
You are inside the party. You are laughing, your face is creasing, you are receiving.
I am outside the party. I am catastrophizing, my throat is closing, my arms are crossed.
Read More »I Will Write on Every Line
I read my mother’s journals and yearn to have a child who will one day read mine.
As scared as I am of what I may produce on those pages,
for now, I still write on every line.
After Death
How strange it is,
to watch someone’s face sparkle and dance with life on a Monday,
and for it to be gone by Tuesday.
How strange it is,
for our bodies to decay, to expire,
yet leave behind an undeniable
presence if we’re open to it.
to look into your eyes merely through a photograph
and still feel the life you once held through them.
It sometimes feels silly, futile,
to pour you liquor when I don’t drink,
to light a candle even though you don’t have eyes to see it,
to pray to you when I have no religious ties.
But death has taught me that the permanence of spirit goes beyond what is comprehendible for me.
It is precisely in the offerings, the flames, and the devotions where I can find you again,
because looking for you in the flesh is the true shortcoming of my humanness.
I cultivate a new relationship with you.
One where a dime dropped means you heard my prayers,
where a vivid dream of you is no longer a dream but a genuine encounter with you,
where a stranger in passing who looks eerily like you is a reminder that you still exist, just differently.
What beauty there is to foster connection with the deceased.
Circles and Squares
Some people think in circles and others in squares.
Read More »
Queen of Frozen Forests
Queen of frozen forests, her presence reigning in like a chorus.
Queen of frozen forests, bearing her eye of Horus.
Queen of frozen forests, ready for her performance.
But queen of frozen forests knew she could not restore us.
Read More »Words that Spark Inspiration
A small collection of acrostic poems
Alchemize – transform the nature or properties of (something) by a seemingly magical process.
At my will, I
let my soul dissolve and
cradle the
hierarchies of
energies present.
may the bound and boundless
integrate with
zero hesitations and an
electrifying seal.
Rediscovery
To step into myself
is uncharted territory.
To feel safe
is an unread part of the story.
Read More »
Lashanda Forsberg 