She Comes Undone

How the land bends toward her humans
Falling she comes undone
Lets her hair down in the rain opens
Her body, comes, clean and fertile
Spills her seed in grand abandon
Hides quiet and pregnant in winter
Waiting calling for peace
Laughing her joy in spring in a thousand
Thundering babies given for us and for
All of her loved ones, though we cut
Her heart out and bomb her womb
Still she finds a way to give


5 thoughts on “She Comes Undone

  1. I’ve recently been receiving e-notices of your poetry, and I’m being struck by their darkness (and occasional seeming anger, too). So I was relaxing in this poem until the closing two and a half lines when once again you poked your finger into darkness. To be quite sure, life isn’t only rainbows, unicorns, and sun-drenched fields of columbine. But it’s also not perpetually shrouded in misery and anguish. Occasionally, please?, “pipe a tune to dance to, [lass}.”


    • Hi Ed, Sorry you feel that they are dark. It is part of my voice, but I never leave a poem without the light that is part of the darkness. Maybe living in L.A. influences a different voice from Salida, although I lived there for many years and although my poetry has changed as it would, the mix has always been there. Look forward to reading some of yours. Jude


      • And perhaps I’m not being quite fair, jumping in with slightly-snarky comments so soon in my reading of your postings. And, just maybe, it says more about me that I seem so bothered by the darkness, eh?
        I’ve lived in Salida for ten years, so I’m absolutely certain I’ve unknowingly crossed paths with you. But my introduction to you was via an essay by Rosemerry Trommer, whom I only finally met, a handful of months after reading that essay, this past July. That she, and others, hold such high regard for you is no insignificant thing to me.
        As for mine own poetry, well… Actually, it’s kinda funny. I don’t consider myself a poet, not skilled with words in that sense; yet I persistently find myself being considered so by poets (Rosemerry, Lynda La Rocca, Barbara Ford). If Rosemerry calls me thus, maybe I’d better consider the possibility.
        Anyhoo, I nearly always post a daily haiku to my Facebook page, and I’ve written one or two other pieces of poetry, but otherwise…? (Hmmm… if Jude Janett asks for my poems, perhaps I should honor her request…? Hmmm… Seems I’ve been called to action, then. And how cool is that?)


  2. Hey Ed, How great to have a conversation around writing, poetry, the state of things that also includes a couple of my favorite people and poets. I look forward to seeing whatever form your writing takes, poems are really not such foreign languages. I’m really enjoying the conversation. I will look for you on FB.


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