By Samantha Wallen POETIC JUSTICE

Away From The Shore Of Mind Shit & Into The Poetic Knowingness Of Your Body

Photo: Cynthia Caraz

By Samantha Wallen

Waves Of Language

I want to thrive, I want
to ride the smooth waves of language
down under, the kind that forces
meaning from the deep recesses
of my soul—turns bits of coal
into gems that burst
open hearts with shine

I want my body to be mine
to move like poetry
what would it really be
to speak from all of me?

To say clavicle with my toes
because my body knows things
my mind could never say

Come, come, come away
with me on a word journey
into the mystery of vulnerability
speaking light as if it were
life given to us by God so we could
remember what it means to inhabit

This this this is what I want
in the early hours of morning when
my body feels as if it will drown on the sound
of itself—wakes of fear lapping
at the shore of shit my mind wants
to dwell on

It’s the time when the peace of sleep
fractures from the deep whole, for a minute
I don’t even know where I am, except I can feel
the geography of my stomach—
mounds of ground gone hollow as
my heart pounds against its walls

Tributaries of future memories
course through my veins, the stories
wrapping themselves around what I will do
when I die, what I will do
when I can no longer feel the breath
coming from my own body

Cause that day will come, just as sure as the sun
will rise every single morning
this is the warning that time gives us
this is how the seconds remove themselves
from view and we enter and re-enter
the unknown

What does it mean to hold the bone once
the soft flesh has gone?

I am afraid, I’ve gone
and ruined this song or so you
might tell me when I say things like that

I am here to sing
I am here to bring words
to the room of what is unsaid
unseen, forgotten, including the rotten
parts of me that say, life requires decay

I write to know God
I write to know God
and that’s all I have to say

Except I will continue
I will continue to create
the day in a bouquet of words
that will smother the whiteness
of the blank page

My goal is not to impress you
although I’d love that
my goal is to kick a ball
into the net of your sorrow
to say, this is a win—
getting to be here
to feel the wind—
this is a win

You are meant to be here
You are meant to be here
You are meant to be here

This is the only story
the ancient story
the only story that needs
telling—so find your way out
of the fray and into the marrow
of living, for tomorrow
will always bring another
new beginning

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Samantha Wallen

Samantha Wallen is remembering she is a poet. For a long time her writing has been peripheral because she was caught in a gesture of putting others before her own work. She has now fully realized that she can shine without hurting anyone and is currently conducting a poetic investigation into economy, home, worth and value, and what it means to belong in an economic system of exclusion. She is the founder of Write In Power, and is a writing mentor and book coach that uses writing as a spiritual, healing and transformative practice to help people find the value and power of their voice and story so they can cultivate a fundamental self-trust in who they already are. She lives with her family in Mill Valley, CA where she regularly walks among and bows down to thousand year-old redwood trees to keep things in perspective.

  1. Tanya Markul

    Love. Thank you.

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