poetry in my body.

June 27, 2011

I am an Irish woman, she said.
I’m made of fire that I cannot control,
and still harbor a peace in my soul.
I have a stubborn expression,
and it is beautiful.
I am peculiar,
but I am wise and musically inclined.
I’ve been given a gift of right words,
and bright, innocent eyes.
My hands are not so innocent,
as they have made love,
made a home,
and made war.
There is fluidity in my movement,
poetry in my body,
and sadness in my history.
I carry the rain with me.

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20 Responses to “poetry in my body.”

  1. tomachfive said

    what green fire!

  2. J Sirrah said

    I carry the rain with me.
    Like this ending 🙂

  3. really nice poem. Taking ownership of, instead of simply accepting the gifts ones given is something we all should do. Really enjoyed the fluidity of the piece as well, thanks for sharing:)

    • Fountains said

      Thank you for taking the time to read and leave comments! It’s important to be able to distinguish the aspects of our personalities that burn brightest.

  4. Jingle said

    love your self expression, superb write.

    Happy Potluck!

  5. Beautiful writing. Very melodic.

  6. This is absolutely amazing. I am in awe of your talent

  7. This is so stirring… sounds like a woman I want to meet (or be).

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  9. What I like about your poetry is the condensation of words into images that always end up in a last line that is sometimes startling, sometimes delightful, and sometimes just right. You are a romantic poet, of course, and that sings through your lines. I have read a number of your poems and have enjoyed all of them.

    • Fountains said

      Wow, thank you so much. I’ve noticed that pattern in my writing, as well – that the last line becomes somehow revealing. I am thrilled with the idea of turning words into images and my personality coming through my verse. Your comments have made me a very content woman.

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