Vanessa Shields's Blog, page 11

#NPM22 -The Intimacy of What is Pushing Me Forward

The Intimacy of What Is Pushing Me Forward

looking back – the twist in the neck –the click in the spine
–my shadows sticking out their tongues –stringy fears with a fear of scissors

spl—it
second shift face
untwist
face forward –

pain in my palm, red wetness
scissors
shhh_a_r_p

*Prompt from the League of Canadian Poets – Write about what is pushing you forward

#NPM22 The Intimacy of Questions Only & First Impressions & Fish & Fiction!

The Intimacy of Questions Only

Will you exercise today?
When? What will you do?
Are you gonna eat bread today?
Do you want almond butter with the apple?
Where is the knife?
Do you want another cup of coffee?
When will you go to bed?
Did you finish editing?
Did you do the dishes?
Did you pay your taxes?
Did you walk the dog?
Where is the chocolate?

Did they like it?
Do they like me?
Are they telling the truth?
Will I ever….
Am I good enough…
Can you pass me the chocolate?

Are the questions underneath
sprouting the questions on top?
What is the most important question?

Did you love yourself today?
Can you love yourself tomorrow?

*This was a prompt from the League of Canadian Poets for National Poetry Month. (Write a poem made of questions.)

First Impressions Featuring Christopher Lawrence Menard!

Tuesday, April 26, 2022 – via facebook! Watch LIVE on the Museum Windsor Facebook page beginning at 7pm!

Join Windsor’s Youth Poet Laureate, Alexei Ungurenasu in conversation with Black Moss Press poet Christopher Lawrence Menard.

Wednesday, April 27 at 7pm Fish & Fiction Reading!

Join Black Moss Press writers Peter Hrastovec and Andre Narbonne with host Marty Gervais at the Windsor Club for a double book launch/reading!

Peter’s new poetry book, There Will Be Fish and Andre’s new book, Lucien & Olivia will be for sale an signing!

To register (and please do!), please click here!

#NPM22 – The Intimacy of My First Live Poetry Reading In Two Years & The Intimacy of Picnics

The Intimacy of My First Live Poetry Reading in Two Years

electric yowza
wild heart banging
throat drumming
the words the words

parading off the page
into the air – marching
on shoulders, dancing on
cheeks, the eyes hot
with emotion
the words the words

rooting out of my body
anchoring me home
in that room, making room
for language to zing
the words the words

purpose radiating – blissssss
my cells reverberating
alive in their reason
to breathe & oh!
family in the room!
the words! the words!

the intimacy of poetry
magnitudes of love
exchanged

The Intimacy of Picnics

expanding the quilt
on the wind’s shoulder
settling down over soft grass

fresh bread, pull-apart soft
creamy cheese, salty meat
lazy laughter under a budding tree
friendship weathering the humble
first warmth of the season

sisterhood blooming

We did it! Thank you!

Friends, family, new friends, new readers of poetry…of thimbles! Oh, what a fine, fun, fantastic time we had at the Windsor Yacht Club yesterday for the literary luncheon at which I had the honour of being the guest writer!

Indeed, it was the first live reading I did since before the pandemic…Including for the launching of thimbles, that happened in April 2021 via Zoom. I was nervous. Of course! But that’s part of my process. I rehearsed, prepared my thoughts and my heart, gathered my books and my fancy pen for signing…I bought a fancy new dress and some sexy tights. I Nair-ed my mustache, plucked my eyebrows, painted my nails…oh, and I even shaved my legs which I hadn’t done since January (or before…!).

I couldn’t eat the three course meal, though it looked scrumptious. My tummy and guts were standing at attention and keeping their strength to get me up to the front of the room. And then…and then…it was time!

Can you see trumpetess Amanda Hanson playing?

The lovely Amanda Hanson on trumpet opened the reading with a gorgeous rendition of ‘The Sound of Music’…and my heart flumped out of my chest for all to see and hear. Nonna, in her angelic presence, put her hand on my back. I felt rushes and rushes of love and joy and…hot, hot purpose.

It was a deep recovery of me. Of that voice, that knowing that for so long had gone rogue…out of me…nearby but not in sight. Whooooosh! It slammed back into me, and I felt…a poet again. A real, live, breathing, sharing poet.

Even now…re-playing, re-feeling the day….my body flushes to joyous heats. The energy in the room was electric. It was like…we became a collective…one joined heart. And it was magical. We laughed. We cried. We talked. We cheered. We listened. We did what people do a poetry readings…we zapped our humanity together.

At least…at least, that’s how it felt to me. And afterward, we talked more. We shared stories. We gushed and thanked. And I felt, and feel, humbled and honoured to be a poet. To be able to write. To be able to read. To be able to heart connect with you. On the page. In the room.

Miller, Jett and my true love, Nick

For the first time in my poetry reading history, my dear, dear, true love family was in attendance. To look into the room and see my kids, my husband…it was extraordinary. To read a poem I wrote for the kids out loud to them, from my heart to theirs…Ooooof. It took all my strength to not bawl and lose it right then! But they pushed strength right at me and we shared the love. And my mom, she was there too. In her brilliant red shirt…pouring her love out. It was incredible. We cried!

This kind of intimacy was collective, ecstatic, palpable. I am wholly grateful to everyone who was there to share in the day! Thank you!

Today I floated on the aftermath bliss that is the day after a major poetry reading. It was sooo weird! Doing dishes, folding laundry, doing HST…with zaps of energy flowing in…remembering moments from the reading…reading thoughtful and generous comments on social media, in emails…not being able to respond without crying…and feeling like I need to pinch myself to believe it was so wonderfully real.

It’s like that…big…an existential expansion…being a poet. Being an artist. Being amongst poets and artists and creatives. Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!

Special thank you to Carol Parent, Sal, Matt and the graceful team at the Windsor Yacht Club!

#NPM22 The Intimacy of Earth

The Intimacy of Earth

resides in every heart beat
in every rhythm, in the pitch of
darks, in the pain
of light shocking a pupil

in flower’s humble arch, in
the brutal unknowing
of how & why, in the
language of time created
to grieve these mysteries
this planet holds like
laughter in church –

spinning & spinning
its dervish delights
goosebumping our skins
into stardust, infinite
energy we name love
is in it, on it, with it

at our worst, unrequited
& at our best…devoted
to its healing despite our

weaknesses

#NPM22 – The Intimacy of Smelling Flowers & The Intimacy of the Dog Under the Table

The Intimacy of Smelling Flowers

The leaning in
face to flower
the yellow dust of pollen
maybe ants squirming
in bursts of blooming
the nose contact
petal kisses
the scents opening
senses – the delight
of stopping

The necessity of connection

The Intimacy of the Dog Under the Table

For Cyndi

I am up before the birds
she follows, jowls still heavy with sleep
hips rocking with pleasure
tail paddling the quiet air

I make tea
I light the candle
I open the journal

She settles under the table
a furry arch of beast
my toes nestle in her belly fur

I write poetry & she chases bunnies
in fields…

We are two dreamers
deeply in love with loving each other

Thank you, morning Yin writers! So many of my intimacy poems have been inspired by writing with you!

#NPM22 – The Intimacy of the World Unmasked

The Intimacy of the World Unmasked, a glosa
With inspiration from Franz Kafka, “…The world will freely offer itself to you to be unmasked. It has no choice. It will roll in ecstasy at your feet…”

Gravity holds us to a planet
we hold each other or we don’t
hold each other & how we got here
remains masked
The world will itself to you to be unmasked

If we wear the masks (we do)
we can still see if we open our eyes
even in the harsh dark, our eyes adjust
even blinded, we can feel the masks
we have no choice in the universe of feeling
but to feel
It has no choice

The weight of us is worth
the wait – to strengthen
our arms our shoulders
our eyes our mouths
to open our hearts to pain
oh love…
It will roll in ecstasy at your feet

#NPM Intimacy Poems – Disappearing, Worry, Yin Yoga, Kitchen Dancing

The Intimacy of Disappearing

there is worth beyond the words
this is a hard truth for a writer
& so, she learns to disappear
when the learning is in the bellyland
sacral sacred wound unfurling
chanting in a different language
she used to understand, bodies ago

The Intimacy of Worry

Is in the fallacy of control
I think I have when I tell myself
how it will be, go, feel
what it will mean & how I will
need to react

The Intimacy of Yin Yoga

muscles reaching for the edge
skin stretching into the heat of the edge
finger & toe tips pulsing at the edge
folding down & in & the belly expanding near the edge
the mind – a horizon

the edge, smiling, hands in prayer over her heart

The Intimacy of Kitchen Dancing

In the jar of overflowing frustration
turn on the music

Tina Turner, the dirty dishes,
the pudding drops dried on the floor
take her hands & and swing her face into a smile
even if tear-streaked cheeks deny –
hold her close, shake shoulders, hips
hair whip & pound slippered feet to the beat

laugh so hard you pee a little
or a lot

dump the jar’s contents in the garden
seeds for lessons learned to bloom in late July

look into her eyes
give her permission to feel
keep her safe in the melodies of your love

Friends…I’ve been quiet on the interwebs. Needed to bow out in order to bow down to some deep learning…that is only happening with deep healing. It’s amazing what each day brings besides the sun. You’d think I’d learn from her dedication to rise and fall – Nature’s hottest, brightest gift – that this rising and falling is the pattern of love. The forgetting is silky. The remembering is damask in tweed. I’m jacket-ed in hunting gear…as I loop back into ‘thimbles’ in preparation for my reading on the 23rd. Grief has come skipping over my heart; she never stops, never sleeps.

It’s all very metaphorical at times…and then, very literal too. The tears are real. The self-talk is constant and hammering. Why is it easier to sabotage love (of the self, most constantly) than to accept what is and step into the gifts in each moment? Even with the world’s collective tragedy, I can choose love and kindness. Why do the voices say that’s not enough? Herein resides the healing place I am dipping into. So…when I disappear…get quiet…take days (or weeks) to respond to emails or letters or texts or phone calls…this is why. It is difficult to…admit..if that is the best word, I’m not sure.

But this poet, and this is what I am (!), cascades into her deeps more often than ever these days. Sending love from here…

#NPM22 – The Intimacy of a Haircut & The Intimacy of Wisdom

The Intimacy of Getting a Haircut

A body
Another body
Proximity pulse

Fingers on scalp
Warm water drip slipping behind an ear
The towel dry rough & awakening
Scalp on alert

The sound of hair being cut
The line of it the slice
shhlffttt

The ultimate trust
Breasts on back
Chin down

The bearable lightness of being
Shredded

The Intimacy of Wisdom

inner Knowing
in tandem with the soul
that strengthens over the timing
of lived experiences
Love’s purest expression
in the body

wisdom cultivates at all ages
begins at birth
stretches into death

fickle fresh flailing
falling to knees, bloodied
skin screaming or
tongue on tongue

silence under a willow tree

LITERARY EVENTS THIS MONTH!

BOOKFEST EQUINOXE – FRIDAY, APRIL 22 – LANSPEARY PARK

An outdoor poetry reading taking place on April 22nd 2022 from 6:30-8:30pm in Lanspeary Park! 
The poetry reading will feature Eli Tareq El Bechelany, Nick Hildenbrand, Jovan Stefanov, and Kate Hargreaves who will be reading some poems from their recent collections! The event will also include music from Madeline Doornaert and Flower Face! 

Thimbles ‘Live’ Reading! Saturday, April 23!

Join me for the first live reading of ‘thimbles’! Rehearsals are underway – it’s gonna be an exciting reading. Plus, eat a fancy meal before and stay for a q&a and book sales and signing.

Please call: 519-945-1863 ext. 3. If you have to leave a message, please do so, and Matt will call you back.

Location: Windsor Yacht Club

Time: 11:45am doors open, then lunch, then reading, then q&a, book sales/signing.

Black Moss Press Fish & Fiction – Wednesday, April 27th, 7pm

Readings, q&a and book sales and signing for local authors Peter Hrastovec, Andre Narbonne, hosted by Marty Gervais. *This is a free event. Cash bar though. :)*

Location: The Windsor Club, 2072 Riverside Dr. E

Eventbrite ticket registration here. CLICK HERE FOR TICKET LINK.

JANE’S WALK, WINDSOR

MAY 6-8, 2022 – Neighbourhoods across Windsor!

What a special way to celebrate our great city and MOTHER’S DAY! (Sneak peek: this year will include sunset walks, professional wrestling, puzzles, and more!)

For more info, CLICK HERE.

#NPM22 – The Intimacy of the Muumuu

The Intimacy of the Muumuu

beneath the colours, soft cotton, wide berth

naked freedom, breasts breathing

opening the space between skin & covering –

the letting-go-of-the-day-dress

she puts on when she wants to run away

it keeps her home-bound, unwound

conjures reading & candles lit to light the shadows

out of hiding, into hymn – her heart sounds hum

Love Speaks…can you hear it?

Thank you to Mariette Jones for her weekly ‘Love Speaks‘ message – have you heard it? Yesterday, she shared my poem, The Intimacy of Being in a Garden. (Mariette is also the Sunshine Staffer at Gertrude’s Writing Room! Woot!)

#NPM22 – The Intimacy of Being in a Garden

Intimacy of Being in a Garden

I dare you to stand in a garden and feel

life thriving
seeds vibrating
roots singing
earth imploring the light into darkness
the beautiful darkness at death’s door opening

it doesn’t matter what the garden grows – it grows
blood soaked, tear stained, grief battered
beautiful

I dare you to stand in a garden and feel
death’s deliverance the freedom of returning
to energy the soul’s soul rejuvenating on the
slippery back of a fat worm, smiling

you will weep, surely
I will too
and we will hold hands
lock eyes make promises on winds that blow
across the world to different gardens

to others, standing naked, toes digging in
planting