poetry
HOW MADWOMEN SURVIVE
I come from a long line of madwomen and of this, I am proud.
Strong women with determined resiliency,
open minds, and hands that knew no idleness.
A great grandmother who became accustomed
to the whiskey-colored breath of strangers
in order that her children be fed.
A grandmother who captured and killed
the white chickens of neighbors
for the same reason.
And a mother who tried and failed
and tried and failed and tried and failed
and tried and failed to understand the reasoning
behind the lies of men who said they were her lovers.
I come from a long line of madwomen and of this, I am proud.
There is a difference in madness and craziness:
Craziness causes one to twirl and twirl until a great breath
sucks her spirit home leaving her mind and body to laugh on their own.
Madness allows the mind and body to function
while the spirit dances to the heartbeat of the stars.
I come from a long line of madwomen and of this, I am proud.
Women who folded their shame
into the gathers of their pride
wrapped them both around their ankles
and continued to dance, letting everyone know
they were not afraid to dance backward if it meant survival.
I come from a long line of madwomen and of this, I am proud
©2005 from Confessions of a Madwoman
TO CELEBRATE NOT EXPLAIN THE MYSTERY
And I heard a voice
a silvery voice wrapped
in secrets of red and purple
telling me to go deep, deep inside myself
deep to the deepest part where the light lay
in the center of the darkness
that it would be here
I would find the celebration
of who I am, why I exist,
where I come from and where I am going
and in this celebration I would find
the explanation that requires no explaining
the knowledge that requires no knowing
the answer that requires no questioning
and then I would understand
and then I would not understand
and then it would not matter.
©1997 from Spirit Voices of Bones
I SAW GODS BATHING
I saw gods bathing
splashing water down their backs
tattooing the night with skins
red from the coldness of almost forgotten rivers
I saw gods bathing
pouring life from containers
they must have held forever
never quite emptying them
one god turned, felt me watching,
chuckled, then went back to the bare bones
of purification…
I saw goddesses swimming
droplets glistening on swollen bellies
floating hair spreading out to eternity
memorizing what is to be
I saw goddesses swimming
dipping their moonlit faces
beneath death’s divinities
exhaling exhausting eventualities
one goddess turned, felt me watching
smiled, then went back to the bare bones
of configuration…
I saw spirits floating atop the water
I saw spirits climbing from beneath the water
I saw spirits singing, dancing, praying,
watching
gods bathing
goddesses swimming, and me – remembering
the same being appears
in all watery guises
I saw gods, I saw goddesses
I saw spirits, I saw myself
becoming…
from the forthcoming book
Poets Inhale the Darkness Artists Breathe ©
Emma Kate Jaynes
Age 4
© 2009
BALANCE
He likes sounds
like trees whispering to each other
like rains gathering to make music
like bells tinkling to remind him how
she likes profound silence
like when the whole world takes a deep breath
and holds it.
©2005 from Confessions of a Madwoman
