Archive for May, 2014

Rocked by the Kasbah

Posted in poetry with tags , , , on May 30, 2014 by Sarah aka Sarjé

The toe swells, rocked by the Kasbah,

by the gravity of things, and number four

is shot: grazed and bruised; while I am

distracted by Moroccan music and the

idea of someone loyal, so rare in my life.


I’m supposed to be regal, but my history, too

is grazed and bruised by the atrocities of

too-human failing. Like a fallen peach, I am

no longer brilliant, but dimming, blue, grey,

and green, too sweet, too soft, and too old.


The Things of Memory

Posted in poetry with tags , , , , , on May 11, 2014 by Sarah aka Sarjé

Someday I will stop looking at the past, stop examining the things of memory,

the smell of campsites, of cigarettes, of sweat and toil, of being freshly washed,

the taste of arctic char, of pickled ginger, of dandelion wine, of a bloody lip,

the light in a field–or over ocean–with shimmering clouds scattered, secrets within,

the first time I heard your voice, and the last. The ringing beauty of my horn singing,

the touch of you: so many, beside me, warm, comforting. The comfort of being alone.

The feeling of well-being, of my growing strength, the certainty that my senses

have not exerted their potential yet; and neither have I. The past, and my

memory, are moving further and further away: one day at a time.