Remember

Emily Bjustrom

After Joy Harjo

Remember the sky you were born under-
The light and how it shadowed
Your mother’s face

How she howled and screeched-
The two of you were Human then

Remember your feet
How they carried you
Up mountains and trees

You clung to them
Remember the breeze
How it kissed you
And blessed you with its touch

You knew then what animal you were
Remember.

At the holy ground

Liza Wolff-Francis

we are people composting slowly,
decade after decade we watch
the young birth themselves
into this world we have given them.

At the holy ground, there is lush
green brush, there is warmth
of sun, the cool of water, rock
mountain temple before sky.

At the holy ground, my pleasures
are gathered and woven together
like chain link, but softer,
like silk. The most curious

birds with tufts on their heads,
peck at memories, rise together
like levitation in the quiet air,
as if they hadn’t always been there.

At the holy ground, it was like
we had barely wanted any atonement
or penance at any time in our lives,
but suddenly we hoped

for a blessing to appear out of nowhere,
like we needed it in order to go on
into the loneliness we knew
would soon be floodlit,

its every movement echoing
like a tree falling. Here,
the petals of flowers wait for me
to lie down and kiss the earth,

to lap at their spilled nectar.
We eat dandelions, imagine
ourselves as strong, as new
as the words sung to us

by the voices we love,
as if they were angels
or mermaids or goddesses.
I should just call them goddesses.

photographs of us…

October 2018

“I felt it shelter to speak to you.”

~ Emily Dickinson

February 2019

Raise your words, not voice. It is rain that grows flowers, not thunder.”

~Jalal ad-Din Rumi 

August 2019

I believe that poets have to be inside their poems somewhere, or the poem won’t work.

~Joy Harjo

We write the old fashion way, in our journals first. Many of us draw and paint and truly become energized with the love of creating in many genres and types of media. Photo taken by Gina Marselle from a salon in 2017. This is a photo of Kat’s journal…you can tell by her quote tattooed on her arm, “…disturbed….”
No stress, find balance. Photo by Gina Marselle, 2018.
Often, when we write, we have delicious foods to help keep the creativeness nourished. This is from a salon in 2017. We are now meeting online due to COVID-19 and we all miss meeting in person. Hopefully, soon things will return to normal. Sometimes, ordinary isn’t boring, after all. Image by Gina Marselle.
We live and write in the beautiful land of New Mexico. It truly is enchanted. Image from the Southwest Chief Amtrak train of the Sandias, taken June 2017 by Gina Marselle.
When we are together, we write and write, and write (and who needs shoes?). Image from a salon in 2017 taken by Gina Marselle.
Image of Saturday’s Sirens poets’, Emily, Kat, and a guest poet Sadof… from a salon in 2017.
We find inspiration in quotes…
Sometimes, we wear hats and have a cocktail (usually tea) to celebrate poetry and Shakespeare’s birthday (and did we say poetry?). Liza, in the photo above, is wearing a fabulous hat, shares her happiness even when we’re social distancing because of COVID-19. Salud. Kampai. Viva. Sociable. À votre santé. Cheers.

We have been meeting every Thursday for the month of April. Photo of Emily, Liza, Maxine, Kat, and Gina. Screenshot by Gina, April 23, 2020.