interpersonal poetry samples

here are some poems created from conversations i've had with folks.

they are highly personal - and most only make sense in the context of our conversations

but they've agreed to let me share... i am honoured by their trust and vulnerability. 

quantum 

you and me

we’re tangled

inextricably

 

in heaven or

outer space

we move

 

as one

without words

just the 

 

energy that

binds us

together

 

your cells

are mine

your spirit

 

beside me

so close +

so very far

 

but they say

nothing can

separate

 

what was once

side by side

connected

 

will forever

remain

entangled

 

like your 

heart

and mine. 

(inspired by conversations with @claire.dam. photo art inspired by poem)

aladdin 

for those of us raised

on disney, 

there was

always a happy ending. 

 

always magic. 

 

these weren’t grim

fairy tales, 

they were 

epic love stories.

 

and of course there

was tragedy, 

but it was overcome

with heroic feats 

and magic. 

 

always magic.

 

but we can’t animate

our broken places,

smooth the edges of

vulnerability. 

 

and sometimes the 

things we do to

keep us alive, 

are where we start to die. 

beyond the womb

we could never have

anticipated

what would be

woven together

in this womb.

 

many threads binding 

strangers,

re-building community,

friends become

a new kind of family.

 

there’s no kind

of manual and

you’re re-writing

unspoken rules,

with few tracks to 

follow through these

winding woods.

 

but the paths

keep on crossing

and slowing you’re 

walking side by

side, all together

the only way new

paths are made.

 

the only way 

revolution takes hold;

in small reverberations

that ripple across

generations.

in one family’s 

changes, reflecting a 

lifetime of choice.

 

and you could never

have anticipated, the 

tears or embraces. 

the way the universe

envelopes and 

blessings unfurl as 

walls falling down.

 

but from the tiniest

seed, something is

born, growing in you, 

breaking new ground.

 

nourishing a 

community, a new

life, a new family, a 

new way of being,

woven together 

beyond 

the womb.

(inspired by conversations with airin, around her experiences of being a surrogate)

Kintsugi 

Precious scars, 

pour gold in our rough edges. 

 

You said that you’d be 

covered in gold, 

 

Because you’ve broken, 

been broken. 

 

And how do we learn

to love the ugly bits?

 

The Japanese repair

to highlight the cracks, 

 

shiny, gilt reminders

that nothing is perfect. 

 

But we wear masks

and try to hide

 

even when we are bursting

to be known. 

 

To be seen in all our

naked honesty

 

wishing we could see

ourselves that way.

 

Wishing we could 

find something beautiful

 

in these fragments of stories, 

in this mess of our lives. 

 

As we piece it back together, 

each outcome is unique

 

as though our scars

are what refine us. 

 

As though the wounds

are where the light gets in.

 

(inspired by someone i've never met - who was struggling with shame and their own history) 

moving on

and this place, 

where we’ve laid our heads - 
that we have built with
our two hands, together. 

stripped bare and 
re-created, designed
and decorated, turned 
an old house to this home. 

this home, where we 
welcomed new life, 
created beauty, 
and watched the days
and years go by. 

this home, where first
steps were taken. 
so many tears cried, 
so many movies watched
and friends welcomed. 

this home, full of warmth
and all the love that 
could fit inside these walls.
all the memories held. 

blue’s first days as family, 
notes played on the piano, 
all the fights and hugs and
late night bowls of cereal. 

this home as shelter, 
and studio, 
home-school, and
home-base. 

this home that launched
a family, a business, 
and housed a boat and
snowmobile, or two, 
along the way. 

may we honour all who
have passed through
these doors. 

may we honour all

that has happened 
inside these walls. 

may we cry for all 
that we leave 
behind in this place. 

may we welcome all
that is to come 
for the next space. 

because family is so 
much more than 
just an address, 
and memories have 
no postal code. 

but we let the tears
fall - for all that makes
us sad. for all that
feels forgotten. 

for all the spaces 
that we’ll miss and
the comfort of what
we knew as home. 

for those stairs that
we used to run and hide. 
that perfect spot to
sit and watch a show. 

for all the little things
that we took for granted, 
that spot to hang our coat, 
or where we knew 
to duck our head. 

we say goodbye
to make space for what
is yet to come

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