Author: rachelvb
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Sunday Mexican Market, Phoenix
Balanced between banana leaves and Jamaica drying in bins like small, netted squids I remember the guts it took to kiss you. I was 18 years old not even drunk rushing up your neck like a little girl through summer sprinklers – my polka dot bathing suit instantly wet. What a rush. Hold my hand.…
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Bluebird
My friend, Lindsey is in grad school and did this video project for class. It’s just a simple, beautiful little video and she’s reading my poem Bluebird which has a lot of meaning for both of us. It’s pretty cool to hear someone else reading one of my poems. I really want to start doing…
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Happy Wed.nes.day Hair
This is what happens when you wake up from choppy dreams. Sky diver’s syndrome. The windows rolled down in a black Dodge Charger hitting 100 mph on a dirt road. Finger in a socket, actually the whole hand. Evil Dead – the remake – starring the girl from Suburgatory; I’ll never see her the same…
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Surgery (Audio)
I’m hoping to maybe make some video poems in the future, but for now here’s some audio of a newly hatched poem I posted yesterday. Surgery
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Surgery
All it takes is one person who believes you’re more than you are. We were never meant to see love clearly. We were meant to collide – a body against a wave. I’m always so hungry. Sometimes, I gaze over an 8 story building just to feel like God. Sometimes, I look at you. You…
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Slack Tide
“A doctor told me once, I feel too much. I said so does God, that’s why you can see the Grand Canyon from the moon,” Andrea Gibson from Jellyfish —- When I was a girl, we’d camp by the ocean and once, I waded into the water, cutting my foot on a shell. From that…
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Sing-along
I recorded this in 2008 – how old was I 24? I wrote a lot of music when I was living in Texas. My life existed at night. I would wake up at noon and go to sleep at 4am just in time for the birds to help me to sleep. This was a very…
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Shifting Gears
Shifting Gears Sun drifts behind the hills like a lonely traveler packing light. Staring after him, I stand next to mom shading my eyes to see how long he walks horizon’s trail – his image shrinks and frays. I try to imagine where Dad is, what road – if he’s passed the Wonder Bread factory…
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Andrea Gibson
A wonderful interview with Poet/Activist Andrea Gibson on AutoStraddle You MUST listen to the poem she reads at the end called “Class” When asked why she writes poems she said, “I write because it is while I’m writing that I feel most connected to why we’re here. I write because silence is a heavy weight…