Sun in the Night is a collection containing all the poems from the first three volumes of Art Poems & the first 13 issues of the zine Ashlee Craft / Assemblage. By compiling a book of the poems alone without the artwork which accompanies them in their original volumes, it allows the words to shine on their own. Sun in the Night contains 140 of Ashlee Craft’s poems.
Publish Date // July 13, 2017
Paperback 224 Pages
Genres // Poetry
In the second episode of The Ashlee Craft Show, I read the poem “part two” from my poetry book, “A Beautiful Question of Where & When”.
POEM:
part two
I left the space open
to write a good-bye letter to you
& the empty page stared back at me
gasping & lurching & trembling;
it was broken, it was cracked;
the paper swallowed me whole
I thought about the last time I saw you
how you were despondently numb & begging me
the bird sitting still in the cage
it once previously tried to escape from
& I thought about the tenderness :
radiantly gentle & ardent in its fierceness
& I thought about you;
you believed in me when I was just a shadow to myself
my hand was trembling
& the conviction inside me rose & sang
& I could not write anything
I could not say goodbye, unclasp your hand from my own
I could not leave behind, move on
from one I’d loved so authentically
Here is the (awesome) first episode EVER of my YouTube web series, The Ashlee Craft Show! The video’s theme is POETRY & I read the poem “& I Embrace the Changes” from my newest book, Art Poems – Volume 3, which I released 6/24/17. Let me know what you think of it in the YouTube comments!
POEM:
& I Embrace the Changes
I walked alone on the beach in the morning before anybody was up / there were two places calling out to me I felt the inexplicable connection to though I’d never been there / I didn’t know exactly to where I was heading; there is a great big world out there & anywhere could be the place / but I embrace the confusion at last, & the darkness, & equally the confident light / & I embrace the changes
for a long time I tried to pretend that it wasn’t important; I buried it & muddled it & feared it & ran away from it / I put on the cloak & wore the dagger hidden where no one could see me; hid behind the curtains & sat in darkness because I would rather sit alone than with them / I cried at night & felt like a freak because they all sped by me in the fast lane rushing recklessly towards careers & eternal matrimony & I was alone & partially longing / but I never did want what they had anyways, & yet still felt left behind / but I have come to embrace the aloneness / & I embrace the changes
there are different things that have meaning to me / “still so far behind!” they wail in the corners / but I do not hear them anymore, & I do not care what they are saying when I cannot see them / let them have their opinions & make their conclusions; let them believe what they wish to believe / I am freedom, I am alien, I am independent, I am different / & all of that is okay / & therefore, I embrace the changes
I will never fit into their molds or want to sing their songs or want to go the places they go & do the boring things they do / I walk along the seashore each step a prayer propelled deep into the earth with vibration / each step is a declaration, a battle cry, a triumphant shout that I WILL NOT BE WHAT THEY WANT ME TO BE, I AM NOT WHAT THEY WISH I WAS, I DO NOT HAVE ANY INTEREST IN FITTING IN WITH THEM / each step is a statement of utter freedom, a release of the words I have been fighting for my ability & courage to say, the Phoenix pushing the ashes off the place of both its birth & its tomb simultaneously, shouting out into the night, YOU DO NOT OWN ME
& so, I embrace the changes
Art Poems – Volume 3 is a collection of 23 paintings by Ashlee Craft along with original corresponding poems, creating a unique collaboration between images & words.
Publish Date // June 23, 2017
Paperback 50 Pages
Genre // Art, Poetry
& I Won’t Have to Forge My Own Dark Road
it seems radical to me, all of this / & I’m so afraid I won’t be able to handle it (was any of it real anyways?) / but I do have to keep in mind, in all my moments of doubt & self-questioning, is how many countless others before me have done the same thing that I am doing now, & succeeded in doing so / how many others before me went off & forged their own pathways rather than following in the footsteps others had carved out before them & blindly listening to the instructions mumbled to them in poor faith / how many of them not only survived the falling out, but thrived because of it?
I think about that lady I used to know, with the curly brown hair, & how she used to always go to the little cafe I went to / I think about how when I saw her, months after she left him, how they asked her, “don’t you miss him?” / & I remember how she tossed her head happily & with defiance, & said, “not at all” / she laughed, explaining she didn’t miss being a slave to him, how she would never go back to living that way / & I didn’t feel that I’d miss it either, & didn’t fear it
I think about all those who left, even those who left & then came back – how even then they came back because they wanted to, because it was the right thing for them now & not because they were forced & obligated to be anything different than what they were / they came back to it, because even after all the thundering discouragement, they still felt that longing on both lonely nights & happy days that there was something else they should be doing
I think about the other girl I knew, who told me that it could be great, but how too much would be expected of me being in that condemned union, & how it wasn’t fair to me to stay in with him / “get out while you still can” she told me – “before you’re broken by them.”
& I think about him, who told me that it wasn’t worth it, it wasn’t worth destroying myself over something so trivial : someone who would never love me as much as I had loved him / “don’t kill yourself over it” / it made no sense to me to be a slave to someone I could not treasure any longer
I am new to this pathway but it is not new to those I have known
& certainly not new to the world –
they have all done it; so can I,
& I will do the same thing that all before me have done,
& it will all turn out fine, as it has for those brave path-forgers before me.
I will be okay
I will be okay; I will be more than okay
& there is nothing wrong with taking this first step, & claiming back my freedom / there is nothing radical about it & nothing shocking & nothing wrong in standing on the edge of the wall & declaring to the sea wind that I DESERVE something BETTER / it is my freedom I am seeking, & it is my freedom I will face
you missed your chance
I am tired of wasting my love
on someone who could never love me back
I would have done anything for you;
don’t you know that?
walked a thousand miles
on the burning sands of hell
if you would have asked me to,
cut open my skin & bled on the ground –
touched the surface of the sun –
burnt myself out until I was hollow & dead inside –
if you would have only asked
I gave you all of my passion; you gave me an empty gaze not returned in mirrors
I gave you all of my thoughts; you couldn’t even tell me what day of the week it was
I gave you all of my loyalty; you turned your cheek & kissed her instead
I gave you all of my devotion; you forgot about me as soon as I left your house
I gave you all of my time; the minute it would have taken you to call was too much
I gave you all of my dreams; you told me they were ridiculous & outlandish fables
I gave you all of my love; you watched me bleeding alone & walked the other way
I became you : I became all that you wanted me to be
& what did I get in return?
a dirty note scrawled on a torn piece of paper,
saying that despite all the intimate things you’d told me
& the tenderness you’d touched me with,
you would never be able to embrace me the way you did her
I burnt myself for you.
I beat myself down for you.
I bruised myself for you.
I sweat an entire ocean of salt
so that you would have somewhere to swim.
I cut myself for you;
I bled for you.
I cried endless pools of tears for you.
I overwhelmed myself for you.
I hurt myself for you.
I lied to myself & others for you.
I let myself believe I didn’t deserve better for you.
I died a thousand deaths for you.
& what did I get in return?
you laughed in my face when I asked to be treated better
& told me I would die without you :
but I will not
you never deserved anything I gave you
& I am taking my power back away from you
to reclaim everything rightfully mine
I am tired of wasting my love
on someone who could never love me back
no use
maybe there’s no use in trying to bring back what we once had / maybe it is dead & long buried & long gone & long hidden away, & maybe I am long hidden & long shrouded & have walked too far away from the sacred spot where I first saw sunlight / & maybe that it the way it is supposed to be; maybe this is the way that feels the best, in the end, & will provide the most light, or at least the most fuel for relighting the fire
the break of day the break of day break of / there are no rules; so what am I talking about? / I tried to make a short film about the way it felt to love you but all that came out was a muddled puddle of broken tears mingling with euphoric joy & the sight of that was somehow more beautiful than any perfect thing could be; it prismed
a rainbow is built from scattered droplets of light
So Long, Lonesome Place is a collection of 63 poems about leaving behind that which does not serve you, & the search for the place that you’ve been seeking.
EXCERPT
it seems radical to me, all of this / & I’m so afraid I won’t be able to handle it (was any of it real anyways?) / but I do have to keep in mind, in all my moments of doubt & self-questioning, is how many countless others before me have done the same thing that I am doing now, & succeeded in doing so / how many others before me went off & forged their own pathways rather than following in the footsteps others had carved out before them & blindly listening to the instructions mumbled to them in poor faith / how many of them not only survived the falling out, but thrived because of it?
Publish Date // October 2, 2016
Paperback 110 Pages
Genre // Poetry
From Issue 12 of Assemblage.
The way the art looked on the wall when it was winter & pale afternoon sunlight streamed in. The affected manner in which he always spoke. The Zig-zags painted on his face & constantly evolving persona. The way she looked as she stepped off the bus & music was playing. The way fields looked in the summer, or the porch that night we watched the stars & looked forward towards impending change & impending maturity. The way she strolled through the store with red dyed hair & combat boots like nothing could touch her, not even Fear. The feeling I got when I was finally able to say it was truth. The way light streamed in through windows onto the floor making patterns & the way it felt driving down the highway with the windows open listening to The Rolling Stones. The characteristic fedora, the iconic red braids & the flying bicycle, & watching that movie where he modernized Shakespeare. The way it needed to be put in that exact place in that exact time; replicating movie scenes listening to their theme songs in tandem, or the way the moon looked at night riding around with the windows open listening to particular songs. The way the pictures characterized the exact way that I was feeling, & the way that dancing in the moonlight felt on a summer evening, or how they fell in love & lived in the forest together.
the real truth of the matter was bold like the business cards & the muffled sound & flashing cameras in the studios / when that type of gold lost its shine / I walked the false pathways many times before & saw the reflections on the other side of glass mirrors / hard work, & real integrity, he said, & I believed him, & loved the road-songs / I remembered the utter freedom of the time, & the way it felt driving towards the storm, & also away from the storm simultaneously
& the real falling-in-love happened, & the veil was stripped away, revealing the core of your own frequencies, sent out into the universe / I watched the facades fall away, & the clear-crystal water reflected my own face back, gently
A zine featuring 24 photographs of flowers & three poems.
Publish Date // February 14, 2016
Paperback 32 Pages
Genre // Zines
it was the fifth of May –
I was smiling & you laughed at some joke I told,
about the fact that it was raining out –
I kissed you on the lips as we walked from the bus station –
the storefronts lit up night with neon –
watching the moon slowly rising,
above the boardwalk
& my hand was in yours
A Beautiful Question of When & Where is a collection of 42 poems.
Publish Date // February 5, 2016
Paperback 82 Pages
Genre // Poetry
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