Summer Breeze (Edy Lou Benjamin) of Silver City, New Mexico founded our sister site, Motherbird.com and has been our friend and comrade since 1998. We lost her this year. She also published many poems at Artvilla over the years.
We will miss you, Summer.
Here are the posts Summer published at Artvilla since 2005. Not all of the dates are accurate.
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THE SEED OF THE BURNING TREE
i stand knee deep in burning coals
waist high in bombs bursting light
eyes filled with poisonous gas
ears to the crackling wind
i kneel deep in daisy filled garden
soft breeze caressing my face
tear drops coursing the river
bird song in my ear
i lie on the ground hugging
holding least i fall further
than i can remember being
down in the deep deep well
i turn to face my Maker
i cry, “o Maker face me!”
give me just one reason,
or take this cup.”
the crackling wind is silent
the air is sweet & pure
i see a tree in the garden
it burns but does not die
“My child, & you are my child
My love, and you are my love
You are the seed of the burning
Tree, and you and I are one.”
Originally published at Artvilla.com on Feb 1, 2005 @ 17:02
In the shallows
by Summer Breeze
In the shallows of our past
remembered shadows
heart broken clean
of entanglements and fairy tales
Camelot was not
akin to our dreams of real
still
in our frenzied recreation
needed now it is a good time
to rampart the battlements
of fear and greed
the poet dreams
dips a pen in the deep well
informs the other
“You are loved”
First Published at Artvilla.com on Nov 30, 2004 @ 15:05 CST
It was so much easier
when we just had Elvis
and Walter Cronkite
we knew who could sing
and we got the news right
Yes life was better back then
we had a dining room and a den
and we didn’t have a garage full of stuff
and we threw our trash off a bluff
and our sink holes were full of cars
and it never made the news
and we didn’t give a damn about Mars
and fancy shoes
And Aunt Marie fixed
potatoes and pinto beans
and there were these new things called
blue jeans
Oh all the fields are big now and the farmers are gone
Oh what price we paid for our fancy homes
and they took our trash with a big giant hand
when the suburbs swallowed the sons of the land
Jackson
She left me all alone
She left me all alone
with these old bones
which I rattle together like
stones, like
tablets and memories of God
who,
leaving bones,
left me alone
with words
so I curse Him with words,
You don’t exist and
that’s the end of it,
Buster you are so out of here,
So get your robes and books and
make like a tree and
leave
and take your Bang with you
It wasn’t so Big
and there were other Bangs around
they say
in fact
They
have gone as crazy
as you.