listening
note from self
this world calls—
begs for attention
she cannot refuse
too fast, too fast
(or so she thinks)
her heart answers back
“what’s needed here?”
“can this being help?”
instructions are clear—
attend with care
be kind
spread love—
that’s all you can do
to mend this riven world
2022 ©Amrita Skye Blaine
I’m writing a poem a day. These are drafts—not final versions.
the search
note from self
one-pointed
a life with direction
that others didn’t
understand—
a lonely teen
these words
come to mind:
destiny
intention
trajectory
immersed
unerring
just this—
a whore for truth
2022 ©Amrita Skye Blaine
I’m writing a poem a day. These are drafts—not final versions.
bloom with laughter
note from self
so many bumps
in the road
craters, too—
times she gets
caught, shaken
and rattled—so
what does she do?
soothes a friend’s
blues, mops up
spilled stew, its
gravy leaked wide
walks the dog
who insists, pulls
apart bickering kids
wanders into the
garden throws back
her head and roars
laughing—she feels
eyes are upon her
squirrel hovers nearby
unsure paws folded
as he stares—
giggles
escape her, she
cannot control them
it’s life’s consolation
2022 ©Amrita Skye Blaine
I’m writing a poem a day. These are drafts—not final versions.
the hot seat
2010-2012
she notes her patterns
most lead to anguish
she must perch on the seat
sit in her stuff and
unwind the past—it’s
daunting and painful
and also the way
when facing what
burns her, her fresh
stare unnerving, she
slips off the seat and
back into her drama
familiar and repeated
her thoughts are not true
they mislead and trip her
committed to face this
she clambers back on
to see through the lie
she so carefully erected
turns over rocks
yanks out the roots
the closer she draws
to her core confusion
like volcanic lava
the hotter it gets
her shame almost
swamps her until
she sees through—
she bows to the seat
knows she’ll return
oh! this being human
2022 ©Amrita Skye Blaine
I’m writing a poem a day. These are drafts—not final versions.
only home
note from self
she smells
trailing jasmine
—only herself
sees a hummer
sip lupine
—only herself
feels soft fleece
tucked inside her sling
—only herself
hears the kind voice
of her friend
—only herself
tastes the sharp tang
of her latte
—only herself
here we are, only home
blazing light of knowing
our very own self
servant to the heart
note from self
the rooster crows—
she awakens and
comes alive to
this world again
plants her bare
feet on the floor
parks her hands
on her heart and
dedicates the day—
“allow me to serve
let me be kind
may my words be
humane, my touch
tenderhearted
I affirm knowing
not-two”
2022 ©Amrita Skye Blaine
I’m writing a poem a day. These are drafts—not final versions.
behold
Highland coo on
her cup full of pens
full audiobook
on the thumb drive
dictated words
unfold on her screen
she cannot take
these for granted
everywhere she looks
miracles abound
an endless list
bones reknit
the joy of
warm socks and
nourishing soup
rains are here
yet the sparrows sing
brave souls
behold!
2022 ©Amrita Skye Blaine
I’m writing a poem a day. These are drafts—not final versions.
the thorn
note from self
she sucks
on her thumb
the wound
doesn’t bleed
but the rosebud
embedded
its armor
it throbs
she locates a pin
cures it in spirits
bites on her lip
and digs
the whole thorn
needs to come out
or will fester
so it is with
misunderstanding
knife deep
but with care
the full root
must be plucked
or else it regrows
and could claim her
2022 ©Amrita Skye Blaine
I’m writing a poem a day. These are drafts—not final versions.
Fasciation
(not fascination)
when branches abrade
bark into cambium
twine imperfectly
meld and grow
into one—
the urge for union is
inscribed on the forest
just so
cats cozy together
dogs sneak onto our bed—
in 10,000 ways
we long for the other
all seeking to merge
in home ground
2022 ©Amrita Skye Blaine
I’m writing a poem a day. These are drafts—not final versions.
the sixth extinction
note from self
what will survive?
maybe not humans
we don’t deserve to—
fouled our own home
harmed our relations
the owl and the oak
the rhino the sea bear
the pollinating bee
the list just gets longer
but consciousness
survives outside of time
bright and alive
open and unseen
prior to survival
prior to extinction
before all we can name
awareness abides
2022 ©Amrita Skye Blaine
I’m writing a poem a day. These are drafts—not final versions.
the heart of the matter 