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This writing was accepted for publication in the 108 page perfect-bound ISSN#/ISBN# issue/book “Salvaging America” cc&d, v273 (the July 2017 issue) Order this as a 6"x9" paperback book:  |
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enjoy this writing from Janet Kuypers in the cc&d free 2016 PDF file chapbook: Love in the Universe of poems performed to music (old and new poems) live 5/7/16 at Austin’s the Bahá’í Center Click the title or the cover to download the free PDF file chapbook. |
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Order this writing in the issue book Nothing Lasts the cc&d May-August 2017 collection book |
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get the 4 page May-August 2017 cc&d magazine issue collection 6" x 9" ISBN# paperback book:
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Order this Janet Kuypers writing from her most recent poetry book series: (pheromemes) 2015-2017 show poems Order this 6" x 9" ISBN# perfect-bound book today of poems written mid-2015 - mid-2017 that were performed during her poetry shows & performances in Austin, TX
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| everything is my home
Janet Kuypers 4/15/16 I’ve always thought I was a child of the world; I feed off the energies of the Universe. Everything is bound together intrinsically, so everything is my home, and nothing is my home. I feel so connected with everything, and at the same time I feel so isolated. It’s sad, feeling lonely in a crowded room. I’ve shunned the place where I was raised, I avoid ties to my roots because they’re not mine. I told you, atom by atom I’m a product of stardust, and where I am home is everywhere else. And with no home, oh yes yes, I have four walls I’ve packed belongings from my past into spaces, but all this time my roots have searched for ground to seep into while I remain gasping for air. Now I found a place with you, and when I walk out my door at night waiting there, right outside my front door, my favorite constellation in the night sky, is right there to greet me. And now that I look around me I see traces of my past I love in the greenery around my home. For the first time in my life I cut my own grass, I pull my own weeds, I water the seeds we placed in the ground on our land. And I’m wondering if I can finally take a deep breath, inhale, exhale. I’ve never had roots. I want you to understand this. But I wonder if I can rake my fingers through this dirt — our dirt, on our land — well, maybe we can get our hands a little dirty, and finally have a place that we can call home. |
