tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-39503494668341032212010-07-30T05:24:36.244-07:00Fresh Poetry DailyMichele Madigan Somervillemmsomerville@mindspring.comBlogger6125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3950349466834103221.post-31731570363862777422010-07-30T05:23:00.000-07:002010-07-30T05:24:36.249-07:00

for Bob SteinGuilty, I ate Malepeques with him, on ouranniversary.

Michele Madigan Somervillemmsomerville@mindspring.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3950349466834103221.post-79971122458110852362010-07-29T07:32:00.000-07:002010-07-29T07:37:10.857-07:00

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Michele Madigan Somervillemmsomerville@mindspring.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3950349466834103221.post-39099455741634409032010-07-24T16:47:00.000-07:002010-07-29T07:23:01.975-07:00

after San Juan de La CruzFrom this little Helllocated withinin a Paradisefashioned of hardplastic, I call out to youwherein negation is impossiblelike painting a sun-less room dark red, not-withstanding light as it isshed upon flesh gravity ravages yetbathes it in fire-lightwhere rapid descent thrillsand to kiss the idealSpanish wine from your lipsfrom afar is exultationas pupils adjust to

Michele Madigan Somervillemmsomerville@mindspring.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3950349466834103221.post-8466671553172863792010-07-17T19:47:00.000-07:002010-07-29T07:23:50.710-07:00

XIII The Women are Holding a Vigil in the Upper Room The women are holding a vigil, they are waiting in the upper room.The women are holding a vigil, they are waiting in the upper room for their prayers to work. The women holding a vigil in the upper room are waiting with all of the other disciples. The women holding a vigil are waiting, their power is waxing, but their voices are

Michele Madigan Somervillemmsomerville@mindspring.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3950349466834103221.post-76171344435822168002010-05-21T09:47:00.000-07:002010-07-29T06:43:12.500-07:00

In this quakingchamber of my heartI carry a small torchwhere a halo might sit.I summon the forcewhich drawn downwardmight dissolvethe lock the mind holds upon itself. I summon the might. The voice in the light that lavishes the strength of its fire upon me, is the voice that throbsin the fire, the voice that breaksnews, the force that breaks open the Word, the promisekept: the created Wordthat

Michele Madigan Somervillemmsomerville@mindspring.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3950349466834103221.post-9026836832070405602010-05-08T09:31:00.000-07:002010-07-29T07:24:35.235-07:00

You are all, Mother,you could never stopin me, as I am all youcould never imagineI might be-come. Onelast time, Mother,say “Yes.” Call outat my crowning,See me, Queen, ofallI amat the thresholdbetween beingand not,watch mewatch you; knowthe full force ofsorrow, so you may throw itback at me, the dark weightLove is. Say “Yes,”Woman, bring forth newlife once last time.Forgive me, Mother,for you now

Michele Madigan Somervillemmsomerville@mindspring.com0