Moderator’s Notice: Margot reads every of her poems aloud. They are often heard by way of the hyperlinks within the titles.
“And what then is poetry?” We ask this time and time and time once more. And poetry HERself solutions. SHE wants no descriptor. Mimetic sagacity spells HER readability.
~~~
Goals be Fed
I’m a physique that remembers
The thrill of falling into hues of
Good blues and greens.
I’m a soul that trades in
Cinnamon and spices.
Elevating likelihood.
Caressing thriller.
I’m a will that conceives fats
Ebullient Moon as
Golden Goddess. Divine.
SHE who feeds our goals.
SHE who teaches us
To have a tendency our fires.
©Margot Van Sluytman
Upon day by day rising, allow us to invoke our Muses, Mnemosyne’s daughters. Respiratory their voice upon the web page. Inviting them rain upon our betimes parched aridity.
~~~
Musings Reign
Siblings of journeying
Mild at the present time. Enflesh our
Hours’ each delight
And dread together with your
Uncooked creative-fire twinned
With our hungry, hungry
Pen’s want. Embrace
With us these moments
wHERin phrases rain down
Soaking the desert of
Seeming countless drought.
©Margot Van Sluytman
Poetry is pilgrimage. Resounding with spiralling objective. tHERin lies fact. No want of logic. Small shoots burst forth from beneath frosty, frosty floor. Freedom sighs.
~~~
Multi-Layered Mystery
We arc our backs as artist.
Needn’t say why phrases
Journey tHEiR course to return
To talk our imaginative and prescient. We reply
tHEiR persistent knocking, for
Multi-layered thriller bids
Us feast upon eons of
Shared-knowing, too-long
Buried. tHEiR resurrection
Erupts, uncurtailed.
Dazzling diamonds dance.
©Margot Van Sluytman
Betimes that inner-speech feels to suffocate even essentially the most dedicated HEaRt. Feels to choke, diminish, deny HER voice-ing. Responding in a flash of glee and gladness, is pleasure’s delight-full decree.
~~~
HEaRt’s Eyes
As a result of our soul’s readability
Forgets to endure fools,
What’s claimed as our
Haphazard ethic: rejecting
Social order, setting a-flame
Patriarchy’s pernicious
Posturing. We don our
Purple clothes, beauty-full
Harridans we. And stakes
Hefted in rotting soil
Awaiting our emollition,
Discover themselves, too, rotting.
Devoid of the HEaRt’s eyes
Of figuring out HER glory.
The genuine HEaRt-fire
Of Knowledge’s name to thrive.
©Margot Van Sluytman
As a result of at the moment and at the moment and at the moment once more, we select to be current, we’re the very prayer we now have been searching for. We’re the tender tendrils of hope, defiance, chance, probity, the riddle that needn’t be solved.
~~~
Budding Oaks
Rejoice. Rejoice. Rejoice.
Sing the celebrities to the tops
Of budding oaks.
Rejoice in full glory,
As do swimming leviathans and
Birds bursting into luminescent
Music. Sing. Sing. Sing.
Safe your ft upon the
Physique of Godde. Dance
Dance. Dance. Wildly.
Flinging hosannas
Out of your crazed
Conundrums for wanting
Which means revealed.
Give up as your tears
And laughter commune.
And rejoicing begets
Our eternally birthing.
©Margot Van Sluytman
Wild Self Siblings honeymoon in our soul’s crashing delight. Sifting, shifting, waging hope, rising sane, sane, saner nonetheless. At this. This, the very still-point of vulnerability’s untethering.
~~~
Bounty Births
Supping upon give up
As grave limitations
Ache for sacred elixirs
To quench every shard
Of concern: Comfort,
As we’re transfixed
By every season’s bounty,
Maps contours of ripe
Risk. Susceptible
As tiny chickadees, we
Un-learn the hideous
Behavior of hiding
Of our wills’ price.
Wounds start to heal.
©Margot Van Sluytman
What then is that this? This temptation to fall for too, too lengthy into chasms of disgrace. Reviling our very personal respiration. Cowering as if we’re nought however one other’s story, one other’s narrative of our eternally unfolding self. Ever in course of. As love sentences us to like. And extra love.
~~~
Cedar and Spruce
Turn out to be marginalized.
Be expelled from the tribe.
Let banal baaing, sordid
Bleating have their day.
In that wasteland, burned
Calamitous with prophets
Of damning, resides
Veins of purest blessing.
And readability. For HER reward
Of instinct is our persistent
Faithfulness to surmount.
To stand up. Writhing in the direction of
A brand new land sought. Scented
With cedar, spruce sprinkled.
Joyously awaiting our arrival.
©Margot Van Sluytman
BIO: Margot Van Sluytman is an award-winning, poet, therapeutic writing mentor, and justice activist, who additionally teaches World Citizenship at Centennial School in Toronto, Canada. Her books embody: Birthing the Celibate Soul; Sing My Backbone-A Response to the Music of Songs; Dance with Your Therapeutic-Tears Let Me Start to Converse; Breathe Me: Why Poetry Issues Works and, Hope is: The Pandemic Poems. She is the Poet Laureate of Roncesvalles United Church in Toronto, Canada and he or she was nominated for Ontario’s First Poet Laureate.
Classes: Goals and Dreaming, Common, thriller, Poetry
