The June Period Poems

Each June Kiery, Connor, Leon, and I do a 30 poems in 30 days poetry challenge. This year, Sarah Murray joined us, and we ran our poems on our Tumblrs. The main page for this year’s project is over at Thirty Days In The Juniverse. You can find poems by other participants by searching the hashtag #theJunePeriod on Tumblr. These are our personal favorites from this batch.  -Hännah


Untitled (two) – Sarah Murray

July 6, 2014 11:50 pm : Issue Three| Poetry| The June Period Poems

It was only an invitation-
just a firefly of words
blinking in your direction
and passing

 

It was only an invitation-
don’t fret too much
you weren’t expected to show
up in my garden

 

It was only an invitation-
I shouldn’t wither so
in the heat of your
unseeing.

 

It’s an impossible
request
to set aside your drink
and turn

 

Please, say nothing.

 

It was only
the life of me.

Sarah is a poet & artist living out life and faith through the beautiful mess of humanity. She currently is raising two boys with her amazing blogging husband and has dreams of traveling the world.

Unmade Limbs – Sarah Murray

July 6, 2014 11:50 pm : Issue Three| Poetry| The June Period Poems

They speak of you as
Object
Owned
They speak of you like
Frog
Croaking
Goodbye
On tables
Tinfoil shutters
Dissecting you
Their garbage pails
Too empty
Save everything
they’re told
maggots and all.

Sarah is a poet & artist living out life and faith through the beautiful mess of humanity. She currently is raising two boys with her amazing blogging husband and has dreams of traveling the world.

Please Don’t Fix Me – Sarah Murray

July 6, 2014 11:50 pm : Issue Three| Poetry| The June Period Poems

Please don’t fix (me)
My doubt.
I do not mind
So much the heave
Of it.
I am not mad (mad my son)
Awake the deep
And dawn
Awake they
Dream in me
(the hue of which)
Unseen trembles
Bones and sighs
Languid dewy
Tongues
I am not mad
(mad my son is)
Please don’t
Clench burn chested
Question cough
(sputter) recant
(I can’t)
the tepid
limp is friend
weak knees
you know my son is married soon
seizes her mirror
brain and rides
the whisper beat
of ink around.
I am mad for
All mumbling minds
Merely making mirrors of sleeping
Eyes
To rash the wind
Dare rods of light
The opening
Of palm against
The stinging
Rain in parched
Joints
All Ink is mad
To blot the sky away
You are mad(I) do not mind
alive

Sarah is a poet & artist living out life and faith through the beautiful mess of humanity. She currently is raising two boys with her amazing blogging husband and has dreams of traveling the world.

Dispossessed – Hännah Ettinger

July 6, 2014 11:50 pm : Issue Three| Poetry| The June Period Poems

And some days I wonder about Samson
How he hoped Delilah would shear his hair
He caught her watching him when he pulled it back
A tangle caught in a vise, baring his teeth for war.
When she sheared the locks he heard her knife
But kept his eyes shut, pretending to sleep.
When he stood, the weakness came as a relief
He felt his bones turn to milk, and his chest felt full.
He could feel his feet on the earth
And when he stood the dirt hummed quiet into his thighs.
And when he touched the sharp ends of his hairs near his scalp
They were like tiny tiny papercuts bristling in the sunlight.

 

His lungs filled with air and all at once he smelled
The orange blossoms and the jasmine.

 

When they came to tie him up, he was meek
And for the first time, he cried.

 Hännah loves every part of the business of telling and sharing good stories. For now, she lives in Los Angeles with an orange cat. You can read her blog and follow her on Twitter @haettinger, where she mostly tweets about how hungry she is.

Arroyo – Hännah Ettinger

July 6, 2014 11:50 pm : Issue Three| Poetry| The June Period Poems

Grab your gear and run
I just remembered the boy
Who smells of sunshine.

Hännah loves every part of the business of telling and sharing good stories. For now, she lives in Los Angeles with an orange cat. You can read her blog and follow her on Twitter @haettinger, where she mostly tweets about how hungry she is.

Giselle – Hännah Ettinger

July 6, 2014 11:50 pm : Issue Three| Poetry| The June Period Poems

We danced until everything frayed
And I kissed you until you melted away
The fog never came to suit the mood
And the stars were watching the whole thing.

 

I walk past your grave every morning
On my way to live my life.
Leaving tried to cross my mind once
But couldn’t get through the traffic.

 

When you were here, your smell stayed on me
And I’d wake up breathing you in.
Now that you’re there, I sleep like a mother
Fitfully listening for your hand upon the door.

 

Sometimes you come and I am yours
And we dance until it all falls apart.
When sunlight hits my sheets and I am alone
I wish you had left me, so I could move on.

Hännah loves every part of the business of telling and sharing good stories. For now, she lives in Los Angeles with an orange cat. You can read her blog and follow her on Twitter @haettinger, where she mostly tweets about how hungry she is.

Lot’s Daughter – Hännah Ettinger

July 6, 2014 11:50 pm : Issue Three| Poetry| The June Period Poems

It is a very different thing
To leave home and kiss it goodbye
To wear down paths around the world
And know your back is to a radius
And a tug on the string will center you home.

 

It is a very different thing than
To leave home carried away like a prize
A trophy of war, a pilgrimage sacrifice
And know your back is to a fire
And if you look back, you’ll be turned to salt.

Hännah loves every part of the business of telling and sharing good stories. For now, she lives in Los Angeles with an orange cat. You can read her blog and follow her on Twitter @haettinger, where she mostly tweets about how hungry she is. 

Ten – Connor Joel

July 6, 2014 11:50 pm : Issue Three| Poetry| The June Period Poems

There are secrets to the process:
brown, do not burn the garlic
clean the hearts before you slice them in
drain off the excess tallow, skim the surface
cut through the bright red cayenne heat with earthy cumin
boil off the alcohol, but not too far
simmer, stirring in the semi-sweets
slice in four uneven rounds of navel orange.
Paramount: be present. Taste as you go.

Serve into bowls for company.

Connor is a writer and editor, living in Northwest Indiana and Boston, Massachusetts. Follow him on Twitter @keepthemuse for topics like flour, flirting, fanfiction, and the process of becoming a literary highwayman in real time.

Fourteen – Connor Joel

July 6, 2014 11:50 pm : Issue Three| Poetry| The June Period Poems

FOR SALE:
Queen mattress, half-used
Too big to take back

Connor is a writer and editor, living in Northwest Indiana and Boston, Massachusetts. Follow him on Twitter @keepthemuse for topics like flour, flirting, fanfiction, and the process of becoming a literary highwayman in real time.

Twenty-Five – Connor Joel

July 6, 2014 11:50 pm : Issue Three| Poetry| The June Period Poems

It is tonight
so close to the last night
burning with desire unequaled by the first night
and if ever there were a night to recall me,
make it this one,
with the air so quiet and the moon so still,
and the fire burning down our throats like nothing,
remember this.

Connor is a writer and editor, living in Northwest Indiana and Boston, Massachusetts. Follow him on Twitter @keepthemuse for topics like flour, flirting, fanfiction, and the process of becoming a literary highwayman in real time.