Another…just because I love you

RITUAL

It has come to this.

Clean the piss

off of the leather books,

the upholstered chair and the sills

of the windows yourself.  

That damned cat’s yours to keep.

You found her crying lustily in the garage,

a mere happenstance you said

but I believe you are both

perpetrators up to no good.

I’ve heard enough caterwauling

these ruinous nights. I’ve lived long

enough to know—I am not the reason

for misspent rage or hunger.

I will dawdle in the tub

until the ceramic’s chill is broken.  

Hot as I can stand it—so hot

my skin is pained, red.

Eyes half closed, I slip lower.

The water is at my shoulders. The water

is at the nape of my neck,

soaking my hair.

I am taking water in my mouth,

it floods into my nostrils.

I am to sink into this fragrant

ocean, if I am to escape

despair.

~CLM

8 years and a lifetime

It is rare to ever feel that you have triumphed in life. That is how I feel—triumphant and profoundly grateful.  I made something real.  It was just a wisp of an idea which came on a wind, a small spark that became a fire in me. The work of 8 years and a lifetime went into Eating the Heart First.

I had a baby when I was 15. He was born premature.   Adam’s life is a long story that I cannot tell here. What I can relate is that after a life lived beyond the doctors’ predictions, a life of joy and pain, Adam passed away in 2004. When Adam died, I made a conscious decision to honor his memory by committing myself to The Writing Life. Because the focus we had given to Adam’s care was suddenly not necessary any more I thought, “Beyond what I need to give to and be for my family what can I do for myself?” I needed to write to feel as though I was not giving up on a long held dream. I also made the promise to my daughter, who needs me to succeed; she needs me to set an example for her so that when she dreams she will believe that she can make her dreams real too.

I choose to live without regret. To live without regret we must follow our better instincts which lead us to the Good. The first task was to read, read, read and write, write, write with the focus that I would get better and better and better. I got out of bed to write. I wrote while driving the car. I wrote my dreams and memories. I wrote what I believed was in the heads of strangers. I sought out other writers to be a part of a community and began submitting my work.

I took on my Writing Life as though it was a business. Being a poet was my job. I had a professional background in public relations, marketing and sales. I decided these skills would be necessary to have any success at writing. 

In the 8 years since Adam’s death, sixty poems of mine have been published.  I have read publicly about twenty times. I am a Teaching Artist with the Acadiana Center for the Arts. I just founded the “Voices” reading series and I have a forthcoming book.

Writing has saved my life many times. Creating this book gave me not only the satisfaction of making something beautiful and lasting but marks a true high point in my way of living.  I will spare you the clinical details, but I have struggled for decades to be well, to recover from bad breakdowns that left years in ruins.

Being able to claw myself back to a real and rewarding life is thankfully possible because I have good caregivers, a strong family and wonderful friends.  I have not beaten the disease but I have beaten it back–

The making of the book (the writing of it) has come to completion and is outside of me now.  So much energy is freed. I will get behind the book when it is published in the fall in every way I can. I am looking forward to the new challenges that selling a book will present.

Eating the Heart First, my debut poetry collection, is slated for a fall 2012 release as a Tom Lombardo Selection from Press 53. You will be hearing much more about it. I must self-promote because I want to move you with my poetry. 

I invite you to read me here. And do keep your eye on this site for news of new adventures in my Writing Life, readings and new publications and such.  Thank you.  

“Come, come, be transformed. “

COMING SOON: My First Book!

I have been BURSTING to tell you this:
 
It’s OFFICIAL!
 
My debut poetry collection, Eating the Heart First, will be published by Press 53 this fall as a Tom Lombardo Poetry Selection.
 
I am profoundly grateful to Kevin Morgan Watson and Tom Lombardo for this incredible opportunity to share my words with the world. I poured myself out for this book–
 
Thank you thank you thank you…♥
 
More soon.
 
Now it is time for DANCING.

Transformation

Something is happening to me—something big.  I cannot divulge what it is yet but I am posting this poem which addresses the notion of change and the power of dreams.  

It was first published in Referential Magazine.

Haunted

by Clare L Martin


I am kept by crows.
They beckon out of sleep,

calling come, come
be transformed.

Crow-by-crow
line up in dreams,

punctuating visions.
Such an omen inspires.

A crow told me:

Let me be a whorl of darkness—
Let me be a fist in the sun.

The crow on the wire
is a keeper of silence.

What a crow gathers
becomes soot and nothing more.

I am in the night. I am in it
as though it cloaks me–

I am winged
and feathered like the crow.

Sheer, yet impenetrable,
rising on wind.

Lifework

 

STILL LIFE ON DESK

 

Here are links to my creative works accessible on the Internet.

 THE WORK

Happy New Year Publication!

The January 2012 issue of Thrush Poetry Journal has just been released and I have a poem in it, “What Winter Told Me”  alongside works by Cristin O’Keefe Aptowicz, Lisa Marie Basile, Kat Dixon, Dennis Mahagin, M. G. Martin, Joseph A. W. Quintela, Jacob Rakovan, Richard Schiffman, Theresa Williams and Bill Yarrow.

Jacob Rakovan and I used to be in a writing group together years ago, I know him personally and think of him fondly, so this is a real kick to be in the same publication with him.  He keeps a place on the web here.

Thanks to Editor-In-Chief, Helen Vitoria, for selecting my work and for bringing these beautiful works to the world.

A Gift

THE ROAD BEFORE US

Let us travel the road before us

and enter into the mystery of trees.

Let us find the sleeping doe

attentive and aware

of the ever-wolf.  I will go

and find kindling. I will set

the fire that will engage us

and carry our heaviest thoughts

upward.  Clouds dwindle.  

Smoke trails us like a wraith.

I am caught in it. I rise

to the web of bleak branches,

to the very tops of trees.

Tonight leafless trees

are smothered with blackbirds.  

This night-smoke

becomes the blackbird

rising to its highest—

Drifting embers smite the moon.

©2011 Clare L. Martin

A Blessing

A Good Fire

 ”A Good Fire

Blessings for all who are in need, and gratitude for the comforts we have and the life given to us.

~Clare

Coming Soon: News in the New Year

Happy holidays to you, your family and loved ones.  Best wishes for a great new year!

In January, I will have exciting news to share.  I can hardly keep it to myself now but I must. You will cheer with me, I hope, when you hear it.

 

I predict 2012 will be a momentous and thrilling year!  Please stay tuned!

~Clare

 

What has my life taken out of your pocket?

I have made something.

(Although it is small and nearly imperceptible.)

It signifies my existence. It signifies

love I have given and received.

It signifies the things I have accepted

and that which I reject.

This lifework took years

and it has worn me.

I rise from bed dark mornings

because the desire to become

more real hunts me and haunts me—

even in sleep—that dark dance.

The desire to create is the desire

to become more real.  It is the desire

to deepen understanding

of Self and Other.

I am ready again, again, again 

to succumb; to give myself

over to the art engendered

within and without.