the fire within 🔥 a poetry zine by Yvonne Aburrow
PayPal me $5 with your email address and I will email you the pretty full colour PDF and the printable version.
the fire within
poetry
Large drinks I have made friends with
A poem for SN.
Many large drinks have I made friends with,
That are mentioned in ancient myth,
And cause there to be much frith,
Among all the kin and kith.
The language of flowers
Back in the day, people would send bouquets fraught with meaning. You could buy little handbooks with lists of the language of flowers, so you could anxiously decipher the bouquet sent to you. You’d better hope that you and the sender were using the same system, because some of these meanings are different than the ones on other lists… Thank goodness we have emojis nowadays!
Continue readingTrans Day of Remembrance 2022
So many brief candles,
So many deaths to mourn,
So many names upon our lips,
Each year a litany of names.
Their unique and perfect beauty
Crafted once by time and circumstance
Snuffed out too soon
Calling out for justice.
Write their names among the stars
Write their names on the wind
Etch the loss into the stones
Until the world changes.
Good night, Moon
Inspired by the title, and the quasi-animism, of Margaret Wise Brown’s Goodnight Moon, which I only found out existed today, as it was featured on CBC.
Continue reading“how come we were never taught this in our schools?”
The oppressors never teach their children
About the oppressed, or their suffering.
Instead they claim that they brought technology,
Civilization, religion, as gifts
To the colonized, the marginalized,
The brutalized and the enslaved people.
You have to learn to look between the lines
At the imperfect feet of the statues,
And the nakedness of half-truths and lies.
Stolen land, stolen lives, streams of language
Dammed, diverted, stopped. Whole cultures broken
Into scattered fragments, gathering dust
In museums. Hiding between the cracks,
Waiting to emerge into the sunlight.
Yvonne Aburrow
9:22 am, 23 May 2022.
Inspired by the line “how come we were never taught this in our schools?” in WHEREAS by Layli Long Soldier
Continue readingLily minds
If we saw the brain
As an elaborately folded flower
Containing thought bees
Nestling among the petals
Searching for nectar
We might think of the soul
As the roots of that flower
Drawing nutrients from the river mud.
Inspired by the phrase “lily-minds” in Elegies by Kathleen Ossip.
If you enjoyed this post, you might like my books.
The singing will never be done
Once, you could hear
Sheep munching grass
Half a mile away.
Now the soundscape
Is full of mechanical sounds:
Auditory assault.
We have lost the music of the world:
Birdsong, animal sounds
The wind in the trees.
Birds have to sing louder
To be heard over the sound of cars.
Whale song is interrupted by ships.
The singing will never be done,
But no one can hear it when
we have lost the music of the world.
Yvonne Aburrow
8:19 am, 2 May 2022
Nonetheless
None of the poems I read today
Spoke into the depths
Nor raised an answering echo.
Petrarch, Chaucer, Donne,
Whispering their plaints into the soft air
Fell to earth, drifting ash.
Nonetheless I wrote this,
To record the ensuing silence.
Yvonne Aburrow
27 April 2022
If you enjoyed this post, you might like my books.
The uncomplaining stars
The low cosmic hum
Of all the stars
singing the worlds into being.
Who can know the thoughts of a star,
Or how they compose
The music of the spheres?
What faults might stars commit
That they fall to earth
A bolt from the infinite,
Becoming finite, massy?
If they look upon the pale blue dot
And hear the tumult,
Do they not complain
Of the marring of their music?
Or is the discordant theme
Woven into the greater music?
Yvonne Aburrow, 8:00 am, 26 April 2022
Inspired by the line “The uncomplaining stars composed their lucid song” in Voltaire at Ferney by W H Auden (1939). With a nod to the retired stars Ramandu and Coriakin in The Voyage of the Dawn Treader by C S Lewis, and the music of the Ainur in JRR Tolkien’s The Silmarillion. And of course, a nod to Carl Sagan’s awesome meditation, The Pale Blue Dot, which was inspired by this photograph.
If you enjoyed this post, you might like my books.
Dowsing for Divinity 