{"id":4305,"date":"2024-04-05T14:34:38","date_gmt":"2024-04-05T18:34:38","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/umaine.edu\/spire\/?p=4305"},"modified":"2024-04-08T12:29:39","modified_gmt":"2024-04-08T16:29:39","slug":"read-2","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/umaine.edu\/spire\/2024\/04\/05\/read-2\/","title":{"rendered":"Poetry Series: Today; (my) Exploit; Your Blue-Move"},"content":{"rendered":"

By Sydney Read<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Artist Statement <\/h3>\n

My poetry explores language that turns our attention back into connection with the natural world. In what ways does the natural world \u201cmake-with\u201d me, as a co-composer of poetry? Can poetry be a bridge, a point of reconnection and reorientation, toward the presence of what we live among\u2014the more than human? I consider my compositions to be made-with the natural world around me; the poems I offer here are born out of my composing-with the parts of Maine I know best.<\/p>\n

I want my poetry to be a means through which you and I\u2014poet and reader\u2014might visit to re-attain a sense of interconnectedness with the wild world around us. My poetry seeks to radically intertwine the human with the world we call home, or alternatively, point out when we actively are separating ourselves using language. When might a poem, a little collection of words, give rise to the impulse to remember where our feet are? That the world we live in, we not only inhabit but share-with?<\/p>\n

We live in a time in which it is imperative that we remind ourselves that we are not alone: we are living and dying-with, in community with the little and large beings that dwell alongside us. To care for our world, which is rapidly dying world (and by our own hands no less!), we must de-center ourselves consciously. We must become-with our fellow birds and hedgehogs, keeping them in mind with our steps and our breaths, knowing that they talk to us, and we talk to them.<\/p>\n

I offer these poems as a step toward care-full action. My hope is that these poems will unsettle the ways in which we live our lives in separation, cause us to become conscious of our relationship to the more-than-human world (that is, a world that includes nonhuman beings), and therefore exercise care for it.<\/p>\n

To save our world, or at the very least, help her along, we require a conscious shift in perspective. It starts, I believe, with language. I hope that my poems help you notice where your feet are. I hope that when you walk outside today, you recognize the smells and songs of the beings with which you always share your life. May we all walk gently along our earth in thanks, remember those with whom we walk.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\n

Today<\/h3>\n

Remember your hands, gentle burrower. <\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

                                                                                Return them to the earth\u2014<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

                                                                                                                                yes<\/span><\/i>, that there, the dirt! <\/span><\/p>\n

                                                                                                                               <\/i>The patch below your window will do. <\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

You, creature! You, friend to worms!<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

                                                                                Feel under your fingernails for the invitation and <\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

                                                                                                                                            <\/i>recall that you, too, <\/span><\/p>\n

                                                                                                                                            <\/i>are webbed and clawed and <\/span><\/p>\n

                                                                                                                                            <\/i>wanting to be <\/span><\/p>\n

                                                                                                                                            <\/i>with <\/span><\/p>\n

the rest,<\/span><\/p>\n

               left behind, be<\/span><\/p>\n

                                          low <\/span><\/p>\n

                                                 before\u2014remember? <\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

                                                                  You do. <\/span><\/p>\n

                                                                  You breathe(d). <\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

                            So, settle down and show me:<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

                                                                  your tentacle fingers,<\/span><\/p>\n

                                                                  oh<\/span><\/i><\/p>\n

                                                                  my sweet animal. <\/span><\/p>\n

                                                                  Show me how <\/span>you<\/span><\/i> <\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

                                                                  yearn <\/span><\/p>\n

                                                                  for home. <\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\n

(my) Exploit<\/h3>\n

give<\/span><\/i> me<\/span><\/p>\n

                                                                                                                                     of your quills, <\/span><\/p>\n

                                                                                                                     <\/i>                                           oh hedgehog<\/span><\/p>\n

                                                                                                                     <\/i>                         their sur <\/span><\/p>\n

                                                                                                                     <\/i>                                          prize     <\/strong>                                                     <\/span><\/p>\n

like these bananas, their ripe-raw<\/span><\/p>\n

dan<\/span><\/p>\n

     gle off the holder\u2014hold it! <\/span><\/p>\n

                                                     they quicken, with the snow-sun, see it\u2014just there <\/span><\/p>\n

                                                                                                          behind them, softly yellowing along with them<\/span><\/p>\n

                                                                                                                          <\/i>                beyond my kitchen window?<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

and <\/span>there<\/span><\/i> below the snow-stung tree the squirrel <\/span><\/p>\n

                                                                                                                   our quill-less cousin who waits<\/span><\/p>\n

                                                                                                                                                          just<\/span><\/i> as well as<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

the anticipating orange, unpe<\/span><\/p>\n

                                                     eled, who<\/span><\/p>\n

                                                                               holds her breath <\/span><\/p>\n

                                                                               which is my breath superimposed onto her breath like a <\/span><\/p>\n

                                                                               metaphor or a plea<\/span><\/p>\n

                                                                               but really just <\/span><\/p>\n

                                                                                                                  imagine! <\/span><\/p>\n

                                                                                                                  if an <\/span>orange<\/span><\/i> <\/span><\/p>\n

                                                                                                                          <\/i>                    could breathe like the <\/span><\/p>\n

                                                                                                                          <\/i>                    squirrel can breathe like <\/span><\/p>\n

                                                                                                                              <\/i>                you can breathe and <\/span><\/p>\n

                                                                                                                          <\/i>                    then who <\/span><\/p>\n

is breathing, now?<\/span><\/p>\n

give <\/span>me <\/span><\/i><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

these words these breaths these prayers that engender the boundaries of our realities that <\/span>tell the textures of our quills and our breaths and our banana orange peels and oh don\u2019t we <\/span>always find out that we are all the same in the end but still I choose to float above my body, <\/span>wanting <\/span><\/i>more!<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

if you give me <\/span><\/p>\n

                                  of your quills <\/span><\/p>\n

                                                                    oh hedgehog,<\/span><\/p>\n

                                                                                                                          <\/i>                      will I be sorry?<\/span><\/p>\n

                                                                                                                                                 will we be whole?<\/span><\/p>\n

see her turn<\/span><\/i><\/p>\n

saying <\/span><\/i><\/p>\n

soft<\/span><\/i><\/p>\n

                               <\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cwhen I pull these quills out of my skin,<\/span><\/p>\n

(you call it poetry!) <\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

                                                                                                                                       will you <\/span>thank<\/b> me when I\u2019m done?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\n

Your Blue-Move<\/h3>\n

Wait! <\/span><\/p>\n

Before you go, if you could just <\/span><\/p>\n

                           tell me:<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

What is <\/span>this<\/span><\/i> <\/span><\/p>\n

               that is different <\/span><\/p>\n

                                            in you?<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

See, you\u2019re hazy you\u2019re<\/span><\/p>\n

                             melting, just there, at the edges<\/span><\/p>\n

                                                                              into the sky behind, you see<\/span><\/p>\n

                                                                                            that blue-move and you\u2019re <\/span><\/p>\n

                                                                                                           moving-with her, like a cloud.<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Or maybe it\u2019s your hands, you see them? Open:<\/span><\/p>\n

                                                                                  your palms, your love-lines tracing a living,<\/span><\/p>\n

                                                                                                                             untraceable place. <\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

                                                                                                              See your thumbs? Perched?<\/span><\/p>\n

                                                                               You\u2019re holding your openness like an offering.<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Don\u2019t forget\u2014<\/span><\/p>\n

I saw you slip under the covers last night. I know it\u2019s true, you smell like <\/span><\/p>\n

lilies and frog mud but you\u2019re also <\/span>so<\/span><\/i><\/p>\n

                                         home<\/span><\/i>. You pressed your feet into the backs of my toes, and <\/span><\/p>\n

                                         <\/i>your breath on <\/span><\/p>\n

                                         <\/i>my neck was<\/span><\/p>\n

                                         <\/i>misty, like morning air <\/span><\/p>\n

                                         <\/i>snakelike, like weaving through blades of grass.<\/span><\/p>\n

                                         <\/i>I heard you murmur their names in your dreams. <\/span><\/p>\n

And your trousers, unrolled! Your eyes, unbidden. <\/span><\/p>\n

                                                     <\/i>I see them now, in the doe-brown dirt. I see <\/span><\/p>\n

                                                     you<\/span><\/i> there.<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

So forgive me, please, but where just <\/span>where <\/span><\/i>have you gone?<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

                                                    <\/i>                                                    <\/i>                                              <\/i>You are here, darling.<\/span><\/p>\n

                                                    <\/i>                                                                             <\/i>You are more <\/span>here<\/span><\/i> than you\u2019ve ever been.<\/span><\/p>\n

                                                    <\/i>                                                    <\/i>                                               <\/i>Isn\u2019t it marvelous?<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

By Sydney Read   Artist Statement  My poetry explores language that turns our attention back into connection with the natural world. In what ways does the natural world \u201cmake-with\u201d me, as a co-composer of poetry? Can poetry be a bridge, a point of reconnection and reorientation, toward the presence of what we live among\u2014the more […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2245,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_kad_blocks_custom_css":"","_kad_blocks_head_custom_js":"","_kad_blocks_body_custom_js":"","_kad_blocks_footer_custom_js":"","_monsterinsights_skip_tracking":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_active":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_note":"","_monsterinsights_sitenote_category":0,"footnotes":""},"categories":[47],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-4305","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-spire-2024-issue"],"yoast_head":"\nPoetry Series: Today; (my) Exploit; Your Blue-Move - The Maine Journal of Conservation and Sustainability - University of Maine<\/title>\n<meta name=\"robots\" content=\"index, follow, max-snippet:-1, max-image-preview:large, max-video-preview:-1\" \/>\n<link rel=\"canonical\" href=\"https:\/\/umaine.edu\/spire\/2024\/04\/05\/read-2\/\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:locale\" content=\"en_US\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:type\" content=\"article\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:title\" content=\"Poetry Series: Today; (my) Exploit; Your Blue-Move - The Maine Journal of Conservation and Sustainability - University of Maine\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:description\" content=\"By Sydney Read   Artist Statement  My poetry explores language that turns our attention back into connection with the natural world. 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