I'm rereading old poems to find lines. Why you ask? I recently heard about a new poem called the 'Duplex' developed by Jericho Brown, and I'm trying my hand at it as an exercise in writing in a form. Not something I usually do. In rereading I've found a few great poems that I'm putting out here.
Being Stardust Again
Thanks to Katie Mack
It is any night and you are stardust.
Yes, you are made of stars. Yes, you.
All the carbon, oxygen, and nitrogen that is in you,
that was all made in stars; atoms that a star forged inside itself
or at the moment of its unimaginably violent death, are in you.
Most of your atoms were forged in the Big Bang itself. And you
are the ashes of the Big Bang. At every imaginable level, you are
a creation of the Universe, vast and beautiful.
So if we start as ashes of the Big Bang, it only seems right
that we also end as ashes; to become that which we were.
To think most are missing out on all this wonder; that is so
their loss.
© Catherine Woods 2018 & 2020
Our Country Wept, Fully, Completely
For Gord
On a sandy beach in the Kawartha Lakes,
driving down a lonely Prairie road,
as certain coastal cities are slowly sinking,
our country wept.
As the Maple Leafs return to glory,
while we reconcile our ancient prejudices, and
accept our own mortality,
our country wept.
In the Coke Machine Glow
of a movie shot out at the speedway
where fire works its magic spell,
our country wept.
© Catherine Woods 2017
Caught from a Writer’s Festival
The muse is a virus that spreads
from poet to poet
wherever two or more get together
to discuss their latest work,
give advice to newbies,
pat each other on the back,
relive 20-year-old poems
written by their long dead mentor,
expose old wounds,
pass on the torch.
I caught it yesterday on Granville Island.
© Catherine Woods 2018
