Gail Steuart will share her poetry and photography with readers.
STICK A FORK IN IT
When I stuck a fork in it the steak my dad brought home oozed blood.
“Why do I have to eat this bloody mess?” I asked.
“Don’t ask, just eat it and remember to chew! He said.
Daddy was a butcher and revered a good steak.
I learned to bite down with my mouth shut!
How often in a lifetime can this happen
Bringing two complicated beings into
A place where awareness
Combines to bring a new
Opportunity to share –
To speak of love and move our bodies to the
Memory of creation we received at birth.
Reopening the floodgates
That have been closed.
Water, sparkling, tumbling, pouring down in streams to fill the well of desire.
Can you feel the impossibility of
Expanding openings which have no
Outlet big enough so that
New shared memories must
Flow over the lips which are consumed with joy.
Let it Be!
Gail E. Steuart
Darkness hides – leads one to rest and a warm retreat.
It s a mystery that the womb is dark, yet is the place of creative motion.
The familiar coolness of the night – where dreams are the incubation of meaning.
Things become clear here because of darkness, but are then revealed in the light.I must have forgotten that poetry comes from the first intimation of the soul.
Why am I suffering here where I’m meant to be free?
It seems like a prison, and I want to flee.
The bars seem to hold me, as I’m peeking through.
My spirit is climbing, but what can I do?
The message is clear.
The time isn’t yet.
My body is only beginning
To let the growth that is there be shown as the Source
Like a river starts tiny and grows to it’s Force.
I don’t understand their drivel.
When they speak, it sounds like trivel.
MY words will be more meaningful.
When I speak out, I wont be dull.
I’m waiting for my words to come.
When I talk, I won’t be dumb.
I’ll wiggle my mouth and move my face.
I’ll speak the truth with words of grace.
I’ll bet you just can’t wait to see
What wisdom will come forth from me.
MY POTTY CHAIR
What is this strange apparatus?
Can it be a clysmcatus?
May I ask, what is it’s purpose?
I have no sense of any worthus!
Mother seems to think it’s finne.
‘tis her purpose, what of mine?
I do not know or realize
What’s down BELOW or IN THE SKIES.
I’m just here awaiting wisdom.
Does it come from cataclysm?
Gail Steuart 6/2/87
This strange apparition comes jerking at me.
It comes from this side – then the other.
Maybe it is part of mother.
Finally it’s in my mouth.
I suck, and nothing’s coming out.
So good, but nothing’s in it.
I suck and suck and such.
These steps are as tall as my legs are long,
But I have discovered STEPS.
UP and DOWN, DOWN and Up.
I cannot stop to rest.
I don’t know that I will be taking these same steps over and over
Walking this wall so high.
Step by step, S L O W, S L O W
I have no fear. I’m so bold.
I do not know that grandma’s hand is close behind me
Always there to love and guide me.
The lap long mine belongs to another.
This crying, noisome, ugly bother.
Mother’s closeness… over there.
This new one does not know to share.
How can I let her know my loss.
This other one is sure the boss.
I’ll wait a while until she’s free.
Then slip up quietly on her knee.