RachelVB.com

Month: March 2011

  • only poets…

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    rachelvb
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    …and animals would ever seek the origins to the smell of blood

  • A Green Crab's Shell – Mark Doty

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    rachelvb
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    Not, exactly, green: closer to bronze preserved in kind brine, something retrieved from a Greco-Roman wreck, patinated and oddly muscular. We cannot know what his fantastic legs were like – though evidence suggests eight complexly folded scuttling works of armament, crowned by the foreclaws’ gesture of menace and power. A gull’s gobbled the center, leaving…

  • Two bodies

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    rachelvb
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    The ocean drifts at my hips then back an undercurrent hungry for my suit. Water pulls his palms over unshaved sticks licks the sweat from my cool melon legs. I feel him in and out of my toes watch the pool of me – metallic sun screened skin – bob like sheets on his wide…

  • Sneak

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    rachelvb
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    I just found 40 cents in change and a single clear stud of a Light Bright in a pocket on my purse I never use. That sneaky child left her/his mark; his/her calling card.

  • Over-saturated

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    rachelvb
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    Snow falls from the branches. It looks like cotton, but looks and feels are different. Snow has fallen. Wet and heavy. I dropped my coffee on a long white pillow. I dropped my lunch on the asphalt. Thank god for pyrex the unbreakable glass. All the colors are over-saturated. White grays blacks again. Do you…

  • More snow

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    rachelvb
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    I fear my crocus didn’t even have a chance. And I’m a terrible keeper. When it’s light, I’ll put on my boots, get out the snow shovel I eagerly put in the basement and maybe I can save some of Spring. How are you supposed to know as a flower? How do such things survive?…

  • My place among the music

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    rachelvb
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    I didn’t read much poetry when I was younger. As a child, I didn’t find myself lost in words as I hear some writers were. I don’t know if I had a favorite book (perhaps “A Light in the Attic,” or “Misty of Chincoteague” – the story of a family raising a filly born of…

  • The all-of-us artists

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    rachelvb
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    What we do as poets, what we do as musicians, what we do as artists seems one in the same. Today, I’ll be a cellist with words. Make music with consonants and vowels

  • Berry picker

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    rachelvb
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    I’m eating raspberries and hoping the seeds get stuck in my teeth. They are tart raspberries from California, but not like the raspberries in California that I’m used to. These were shipped off and freezing and I like them warm on the vine behind the garage when my mom would send me out on summer…

  • Manatees need more friends

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    rachelvb
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    My heart’s been rickety in a flood. Splinters. A house rocking around a frame in rising water. I had stranger than normal dreams. I’m not even sure normal is allowed in the same sentence. I was in bed with my brother and his ex. Nothing was touched, but it was implied. I had a vision…