genvieve-of-the-wood

[genvieve-of-the-wood]

Sleepy Head, Time Is Just a Construct

And with a wave of

government approval,

an hour vanishes

from my life.

It’s dead,

buried in the catacombs

with all the other

lost hours.

I have wasted time before,

and will probably

do it again

in the future

and it won’t always feel

like I threw the time

away or shredded it

no, it will be

like a winning scratch off

or a day

you find a missing twenty

dollar bill in an old purse.

But I mourn my 2 am

little hours,

many I slept through,

many I wrote poems to.

We must stop

this atrocity,

and wake up

with the sun

and those hours

padding our cheeks,

so we can waste away

the time

at our own risk

instead of the farmer’s.

@genvieve-of-the-wood March 10, 2024

#writerscreed #spilled ink #spilled thoughts #smittenbypoetry #daylight savings #genvieve of the wood

[genvieve-of-the-wood]

Do you read your poems aloud to the trees?

It depends. If it’s windy, no. It’s rude to shout.

[genvieve-of-the-wood]

Happy Winter Solstice, or as I tell many like myself wandering in metaphorical and literal darkness- “This too shall pass.”

@genvieve-of-the-wood December 21, 2023

Solstice Animal

The clock at work reminds me,

“Today will be

a long cold night.”

I can only see how little

time I have

to take dreams,

still icy on my tongue

and melting on

my eyelashes,

and see their individual

designs crystallize

and fall from

my desire,

the atmosphere unstable,

looming with no end

to the gray,

no certainty of the sun

shines through.

Will I dream this

longest night,

or do my hopes

hibernate,

surviving on fat promises

and everything I

could scavenge in the short hours

after work?

I will kill a man

who awakens me

in my slumber,

who interrupts

the metabolism of the purest

energy.

We must reflect and create

in the dark,

in the sleepwalk of a job

or

a stretching solstice shadow.

Do not approach me-

I am snarling as I’m snoring,

and when the dreaming

is done

and all the dreams melt away,

I will awaken,

extremely hungry.

@genvieve-of-the-wood December 22, 2022

#winter solstice #echoes of the solstice #poetry on tumblr #genvieve-of-the-wood

[genvieve-of-the-wood]

Is the baby you? That you’re projecting your fears forward because you can’t resolve them in the now?

Perhaps. I will leave the interpretation up to the reader. Babies in dreams often represent something or someone ( not often a literal baby) we feel very vulnerable about. A baby is helpless, fragile- the very representation of what we put our hope, love and protection into. It could be a project, a relationship, a transformation, a person we have nurtured, including ourselves. The Buddhist kind of outlook is, the nightmare happens over and over because we want to control it, but in all realities, physical and metaphysical, true control is an illusion. So we embrace the now, the shit, the good, ( the baby) and the nightmares begin to taper off, because we live in the moment versus what might happen or what has already happened.

Thanks for your insightful question.

[genvieve-of-the-wood]

Nightmare Fuel

Brains are anxiety

powered cinemas.

The cost of admission

is what this world

can do to us.

Right after my divorce,

years ago

and last night-

I dreamt of an infant

trapped on railroad tracks,

and all I could do

was watch the train

approach

from somewhere up above.

I wept, and silently screamed

and reached for that sleeping baby,

and just as the baby

wakened, cried-

the train

and then I awoke,

feeling so small,

unable to stop

anything,

and then I remembered

I can try again,

I can pick a different seat

in the theater

of my mind.

The baby has come back

in other ways

to comfort me,

only to be taken again

by my monstrous subconscious

script writing

the worst scenarios,

and the most terrifying

feeling in a horror movie

is true helplessness.

For now,

I hold the dream baby

who resembles all babies,

not my sons or nieces or

children I have babysat,

but all of them

in one small, warm body.

I hold the infant heart

close to mine,

and mine races as fast

as theirs.

Our dreams are the same,

the baby and I-

we are helpless

and helping each other

out of our nightmares.

@genvieve-of-the-wood November 7, 2023

#writerscreed #spilled ink #smittenbypoetry #poets and writers #poetry #genvieve-of-the-wood

[genvieve-of-the-wood]

Happy Samhain, Halloween, Spoopy Time, etc!!

I finally watched the movie “Hereditary!”

Toni Collette’s faces were actually some of the scarier bits in this film, she was so, so good!

I am going to watch “Talk to Me” next- loving the A24 studio movies- I am a big fan of “Midsommar” as well.

Besides the scary, I contemplate the year behind, and the year ahead. Going through the last stages of menopause- it’s not for cowards.

To quote the opening of “The Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt”…

“That’s uh.. gonna be a fascinating transition..”

Poem soon to follow

#spilled ink #hereditary #a24 films #unbreakable kimmy schmidt #happy halloweeeeeeen #happy samhain #genvieve-of-the-wood

[genvieve-of-the-wood]

Any movie that shows in a satirical way what a monster Pinochet was and how easy it was for him to come to power with the help of the US and how much Margaret Thatcher( also a vampire figuratively and literally) loved him- I’m all in.

Love my vampire movies and TV series, but this movie is fascinating. I also brushed up on my history of human rights abusers, Pablo Neruda ( one of my favorite poets) who was a friend of Allende, who was the elected leader of Chile until Pinochet’s coup and US history of how our government was deeply invested in propping up certain leaders for fear of socialism/communism.

To see two figures in history I despise played out as not so glamorous vampires- yes, please!

El Conde | Official Trailer | Netflix

Dir: Pablo Larraín Star: Alfredo Castro / Paula Luchsinger / Jaime Vadell

#el conde #pablo larraín #comedy movies #trailer #make fun of dictators #vampire movies #genvieve of the wood

[genvieve-of-the-wood]

Chris Isaak and Climate Change Cocktail

The world is on fire,

no one will save us from

fossil fuel.

Strange how desire for

billions makes

Big Oil so cruel.

I never dreamed

of the sea temp

hitting 102-

And I never dreamed

of the lies

we believed were true.

No, I don’t want to

overheat or drown-

(this world is only gonna

burn or flood)

No, I don’t want to

blow away or starve

(this world is only gonna

burn or flood)

with you.

What a wicked game

to play,

to ignore climate science

today-

What a wicked thing

to do,

to treat the Earth

like a giant loo-

What a wicked thing

to say,

this hellish heat

is just another day-

What a wicked thing

to do-

only oil money dreams

matter to you.

And I don’t wanna to

overheat or drown,

(this world is only gonna

burn or flood)

with you.

Nobody

loves

what we’ll

become.

@genvieve-of-the-wood August 6, 2023

Based on Lyrics to “Wicked Game” by Chris Isaak

#writerscreed #spilled ink #spilled thoughts #poem based on lyrics #climate crisis #wicked game #genvieve-of-the-wood

[genvieve-of-the-wood]

“I’m Trying to Use the Phone!”

RIP Paul Reubens

My kids and I still yell this line exactly like Pee Wee did in Pee Week’s Big Adventure when we are on a phone call. I adored Pee Wee’s Playhouse and also loved the character Spleen in Mystery Men and his appearances on David Letterman. Paul Reubens has played so many great characters besides Pee Wee. One to look up his role in the movie Blow.

Another line that me and the people who know love to repeat is saying “I’m sorry.” And then “I’m not sorry I took the money! Muhhaaa! Hahahahaha!” If you know the movie put it in the replies.

#Youtube #spilled ink #paul reubens #pee wee herman #rip Paul Reubens #funny lines from movies #genvieve-of-the-wood

[genvieve-of-the-wood]

For Fear of Future Dementia

The rot, then chaos

and now confusion

forms its own order

eventually.

The breaking of a boundary,

unlocking the Arc de Triumph

with the toast left

on a plate,

crumbly key

to a map, a trail

to the candy house

found but now we must find

the children who wanted

croissants instead

and left the cannibal witch

alone with memories

of Paris in April.

Sleepless and fitful,

dollars donated to a cause

worthy of noble notice

on an unsecured site,

there is water but no electricity

and going with the flow

she reads a bedtime story

at noon and dresses

to go to the airport

at 3 in the morning,

philanthropist and buyer

of flowers for someone

going through a difficult time,

she writes a check

for a number that has six zeros

behind it

to give to a school

that no longer exists,

the building now a funeral home.

Someone is kept waiting

at a restaurant,

because she can’t find

the right earrings

to go with her dress,

so she puts on her lapel pin

to give her luck

and confidence for her

university job interview.

It went very well,

she starts on Monday.

Now, she must read

the children their bedtime story,

the one with the cannibal witch

living in a house

with a roof made of icing,

and prepare for her trip

to Paris.

She is not lost,

but stuck in a messy loop

which is its own

way of finding her way home.

She has anticipation, excitement,

purpose, a destination.

Perhaps the only

one in hell

is the one

observing her day.

@genvieve-of-the-wood

#writerscreed #spilled thoughts #spilled ink #poets and writers #smittenbypoetry #poets of tumblr #alt lit #genvieve-of-the-wood

[genvieve-of-the-wood]

A Clouded Moon Sabbat

There are things

I will bury and

things to burn.

Words to be said

louder than the land,

my feet stomp, hips rotate

and roots feel me

as dirt shakes and

bones shift.

I miss your shine,

your cool observance

of my reverence

for cycles, for elemental life.

A sip of whiskey,

a pour to the ground,

a drop of blood

to bond

myself to this land.

The rain prepares me,

and petrichor

is my incense as I

ready myself

to walk with faith

in the order

and chaos

of nature.

My belief is right now,

and I am happy

in my temple

and congregation

of one.

The moon

is the secret heart

of the sun,

of me

and many others,

reflecting powerful fire

so we can walk

within our darkness.

Our shadow is

a relief

in the intensity of the light.

Tonight

the lesson of the full moon

is

we are not creatures

of darkness-

but of contrast.

Death and life

need each other,

this is what witches know.

We are called unnatural

for observing

what is truly natural.

@genvieve-of-the-wood June 13, 2023

#writerscreed #spilled ink #smittenbypoetry #witchblr #moon #pagan sabbats #alt lit #genvieve-of-the-wood

[genvieve-of-the-wood]

A True Queen Has Left Us, RIP Tina Turner

The original was not posted,as iconic as it is, because I wanted only Tina highlighted. This performance was in 2009, so about 14 years ago. The choreography and the fringe dresses/outfits worn are so iconic. When I tried on anything that had fringe, I would try to dance to “Proud Mary” in front of the mirror. In college, I remember trying on some fringey dresses with a couple of friends and we immediately broke out into this song and routine.

Her voice is unmistakable and she was truly unique and authentic in her presence, her art, and herself. I love the albums Private Dancer, Break Every Rule, her live albums and Acid Queen.

Also, she was a Buddhist and this helped her overcome a lot of the trauma from her past. I read her autobiography, Happiness Becomes You: A Guide to Changing Your Life For Good. If you have the time, give it a read this summer.

And play her albums all the way through, they are so, so good.

#tina turner #proud mary #spilled thoughts #vinylcollector #nichiren buddhism #genvieve-of-the-wood #Youtube

[genvieve-of-the-wood]

Happy Beltane, 2023! May your fires of creation continue to burn.

Some Fires Are Set With No Fuel

Some fires are set

with no fuel,

Some of us can drown

with no water,

Some earth is loose

yet solid with no stone,

Some things blow away

with no wind.

My heart still burns

of flammable stuff,

My mind overwhelmed,

flooded, so I must float.

My will a sinkhole

until my spirit settles,

My trauma memory

a canyon solid, smooth-

the jagged edges worn down.

All the elements are present

tonight

as I feel the peak

and the decline

of my life,

old

partners leading me forward

to the next phase.

Do not bring fear

to this incarnation,

they say.

It must be left behind,

new fertility awaits.

And you, witch

of the sacred, hopeful heart,

the mind that is master

of its arts,

the will deep and grounded

at home with roots and bones,

and now what no longer serves you

cuts you no more, for it flows

out of the source

to serve your sorcery.

I am not magical,

you may think.

But who can explain

the power of change,

from atomic elements in stars

to embracing your true cosmic age,

without wonder and awe

as we gaze at the fires

tonight,

our ancestral habits

and rites

insisting on life,

and those old ways

die hard

even in a suburban

fire pit.

@genvieve-of-the-wood April 30, 2022

Happy Beltane, to those who partake!

#beltane #genvieve of the wood

[genvieve-of-the-wood]

A reblog and a late happy spring equinox and Ostara

Still watching my seedlings grow, along with my hope.

School of Hard Equinox

What it takes

to revive

what was once dead,

is knowing

nothing

has ever really

ceased to be-

no,

it becomes something else,

ash,

compost,

spores,

a wholly different

kind of molecule even.

They say in magic

if you know something’s

or someone’s

true name,

you can have access

to transform it.

Which is why

it is only uttered

in front of entities

one trusts.

What happens when

the true name

is known,

when it is found

on the lips

of someone

who plucked it

from a silk lined

box

I opened under

a sweet to the taste,

wanting more

and more kind of

spell?

It is difficult to reclaim.

I wander in winter

woods

trying to remember

where I was,

what I planted

and abandoned,

why I became

so lost and malnourished.

Now,

the green is discovered

in the plot

I seeded,

little green arrows

and small hands

reaching and pointing

up to me

asking,

“ Don’t you know

who you are?”

So I stay,

reworking what was neglected,

lying in that nursery

of dreams

at night,

and I stare at stars

and live off roots

discovered and early honey

that sweetens the solitude.

And the hare

greets me amongst

the vines and shoots

and seedlings,

and runs back to the bracken

because she knows

mysteries of beginnings.

I sleep

outside,

unafraid-

the sun rises

and the first blossom

opens

into my ear

and whispers.

I wake up

and remember

what I couldn’t

name for that harsh

season

and marvel at how

it was never stolen

because

underground

I uttered it to every

thing I covered in dirt

that day,

waiting in hibernation,

and what was taken

from me

only

withered in that

too greedy hand

and drifted away,

an illusion

they aren’t soon

to repeat.

@genvieve-of-the-wood March 19, 2020

Happy Ostara and Spring Equinox, everyone!

Let’s all tend to our hope and resilience for each other and ourselves this season.

#spilled thoughts #poets of tumblr #spring equinox #ostara #genvieve-of-the-wood

[genvieve-of-the-wood]

This song, a must on the play list with other soul legends -“What You Won’t Do For Love”

RIP Bobby Caldwell

#bobby caldwell #rip #soul music #genvieve-of-the-wood #Youtube

[genvieve-of-the-wood]

I have revised this poem and posted it to my Medium blog. Love some claps. Thank you!

Choose Your Destruction

If lightning strikes me, then there is no thunder to warn me.

If the lightning does not strike me, the high winds will surely slap me down, or throw something hard at my head.

And if that doesn’t happen, the rain will fall until the floods carry me away and under.

Yet, there still may be other ways I die, alone and old, withered heart and hope unable to hold a wick inside.

Suddenly and inexplicably, a car crash on a long, lonely highway- me and another vehicle two points that had less reason to meet than the lightning striking me first, if you recall without a sound.

A disease, a heart attack, murder in broad daylight, all come, even with those best of defenses we have - doctors, security cameras, Doppler radar, vegan diets, lane correction safety features in cars.

I often choose caution, but Death will choose me anyway so now the dread and spectacle of storms, the frailty and tensile strength of human bonds, a desert highway sunset, fried eggs in butter, walking in the woods on a day I wish.

Everything belongs to Death, and the sooner I burn that into my brains and tattoo it onto my heart I will begin to truly love my one and only

short and shitty life.

@genvieve-of-the-wood revised March 14, 2023

#genvieve of the wood #jenadriftinaseaoftrees #poets and writers #spilled ink #poetry #alt lit #poets of tumblr

[genvieve-of-the-wood]

If Change is Comfortable, It Is Not Change

No one sits at the peak of the tallest mountain and speaks of how dull it is, the valleys are for resting and the mountain sides are for climbing, clawing, falling, pain and perhaps,

death.

Emerging from a womb is not peaceful, but the first violence we mammals encounter.

No more heart beat to sleep near, no sway and float in amniotic isolation.

We are pushed out of our mother’s small ocean and emerge onto the earth, our lungs popping open, our senses disregulated.

We scream, helpless.

Puberty calls for blood, sweat, tears and semen. We have longer arms than legs, our smells, skin and bones change like a years long horror and fantasy movie, and our minds are under new management,

bathing several times a day in hormones and pheremones because of our ancient DNA that demands survival of our species.

And now, I am undergoing a kind of climacteric, I burn, sleep lightly, feel pain in newer places, am weary but wanting to war, picking my battles carefully but fighting them so much more

ruthlessly

and my womb activity rejects the calendar and the moon now,

so I am bound to what struggle I choose

and set free from what others

would choose for me.

Now, after knowing assault, heartbreak, pregnancies, childbirth, divorce, death and disillusion- the last red hot remains of lies I believed burn on the forge floor after being hammered off of a sword which cuts things down into the essentials.

I have my sword, all I need to do now is find out if it is easier to carry at my hip or across my waist,

a novice warrior

finding her preferences on how to draw her weapon of choice,

making the uncomfortable

comfortable.

@genvieve-of-the-wood 3/12/2023

#smittenbypoetry #spilled ink #genvieve of the wood