FOG: A Zine, Poem 4 – The Ashlee Craft Show – Episode 033 – Poetry
POEM 1: https://youtu.be/n_ccVs8QAwU
POEM 2: https://youtu.be/owNvh9CecxY
POEM 3: https://youtu.be/4mNDij1hU_E
FOG: A ZINE: http://amzn.to/2zzz30b
POEM 1: https://youtu.be/n_ccVs8QAwU
POEM 2: https://youtu.be/owNvh9CecxY
POEM 3: https://youtu.be/4mNDij1hU_E
FOG: A ZINE: http://amzn.to/2zzz30b
Here are the previous poems:
Silent Night
silent night / holy night
you sit there looking into the down-turned eyes of lonely strangers / lost on a cold, unforgiving ocean to which there seems no chance of rescue & the boat seems on its last leg / it’s Christmas eve & you huddle in the canvas tents while the boom boom boom explosions nearby shake the ground / fear flows as fresh as the blood in their veins as the cramped isolation begins to take its toll & you suddenly feel as though you’re falling thru an empty world yet the overcrowded illusion & warmth stifles you / the cool night air outside seems as cold as the desperation – frantic grasping rapid fire falling falling falling into an abyss to which there is no return hope is gone from your soul & all you want to do is go home / the isolated desolation & illusion of paper-thin canvas walled tent huddled, silent, seems as fragile as the beating of your heart which could stop any moment & you feel the liquid cool of night air sifting thru your palms / mind goes back to ten years ago when you were a kid
you feel cold despite the heat in the tent & the putrid smell of sweat fills your nostrils & you feel empty – cold – alone – your heart beats madly against the wall of your ribcage, beating so strongly yet seeming so weak like a baby bird just hatched attempting to flap it’s wings & fly / you see the fear felt in your heart mirrored twenty times in the faces around you / what do they think of, what do they feel / the same as you, each in their own way / you avert your eyes to the dirt floor & suppress the urge to tear the nightmare illusions around you down, tear down the canvas backdrop & the projections of people & the illusions of fear / but you can’t / it’s not an illusion & it’s the only reality that there is
your heart aches for your family & friends & the thought crosses your mind constantly that you may never return to them / you wonder why you signed up for this but there’s no turning back & you feel alone in the world
first Christmas away from home / your heart reaches the most desperate lonely despondency distraught with fear & misery
silence is broken / a voice so warm & kind, trembling slightly beneath the weight of the war & world & fear, overcomes the situation & rises to do what they know they must do / they feel the same fear as you & their young face gleams in the pale lighting, a reflection of your own
the song raises thru the air & wafts onto the roof of the tent & it remains there / as more of the song is revealed, the air becomes heavy with the hope & fills the whole tent / other voices join in & you suddenly find yourself singing / your spirit soars & suddenly somehow you know you’re gonna be okay
you’re gonna be okay
the Christmas voices & spirits soaring flying alive for this one moment enter into each heart & hope is restored
in the midst of loneliness & pain came the soft words bringing hope / the midst of war & hate, for just a moment, there was love & peace
silent night / holy night / all is calm / all is bright / round young virgin mother & child / holy infant so tender & mild / sleep in heavenly peace / sleep in heavenly peace
HERE’S MY NEW BOOK THAT THIS POEM IS FROM →
YOU ONCE WERE MY SOULMATE, NOW YOU ARE A SHADOW
when I was with you, I thought you were everything / I loved you deeply & only ever wanted you to love me back with equal strength / I wrote romantic poems about how you & I would be looking at each other, driving around town with the jazz playing / I used to think that was what I wanted / we could both be mature & stereotypically in love with each other / I thought it would last forever / we would grow up together
we would grow cynical together / I have been glad many times, but especially now, that things never worked out / you would never have loved the way I came to dress, the way I colored my hair neon bright, the way I was so determined above anything else to accomplish something you didn’t think was worth doing / you would never have loved the person I have become / you only loved me when I became a carbon copy of you
when I told you my secret dream, you said, “well, that’s nice but -” / you were the one who had taken the advice of your drunkard neighbor who told you it was too stressful to try & follow your own dream / I find it hard to believe he was literally the only person you ever knew you could have asked that question to, & you believed him when he told you it wouldn’t be fun / you decided rather than find out for yourself you’d rather blindly believe he was right, even though he was just one person & that was just his opinion / you never asked again
complacency & comfort can be terrible things / you get comfortable & then you stop evolving / you simultaneously love & hate where you’re at / you think it’s okay to just be “okay” / mediocrity came knocking on your door one day & you let it in / it has lived there, hogging your couch & soiling your floor ever since / it would leave if you asked it, but you never have
I can take comfort in knowing that what I did was way beyond anything you would have wanted to do or would have let me do / you would have told me it was a terrible idea & I would have believed you / if we would have ended up together, we would never have ventured out / every place we went would be “safe”, would be “socially acceptable” / you would never become the kind of person who would stay up until three in the morning falling in love with the concert you just heard, you would never venture out on a whimsical road trip alone to do things that were genuinely important to you, you would never pursue the challenging obstacle course, you would never fly out to see the musicians play / you would stay safe with your cruises & prepackaged vacation deals where the itinerary would dictate your every move, your work would always be your first love for the wrong reasons, & you would never be bold enough to let yourself live
instead you would follow in the footsteps of every sheep who walked before you, blindly following everything the herd did because they were “supposed to” / if we would have ended up together, I would never know what it was like / it wouldn’t have been the type of thing you would ever want to do, & I would have agreed with your vision of me because I really thought you were right
& you would never have been able to do it alone / it didn’t, couldn’t, never would fit in with your narrow ideas about how to keep up with both the Joneses & the sheep at the same time
& I can take comfort in knowing that what I did was way beyond anything you could have done / I thought you were the better half but now I see I’m wrong / I did something braver than anything you can fathom, much less bring to life
you could have had it all too, if you would have really wanted to
but you never had the courage
knowing what the sound of the wind is like
through board empty boards of houses,
a match on rough brick strikes,
the flame burning higher & higher into the sky
wearing neon yellow blouses;
I called out into the wind asking where you were
& you replied it was all a lie,
the mask you’d worn for so long
we walked on the beach & the sun was a blur
behind growing gray clouds & the height of the sun
tendrils of a rainbow blooming
& nothing was wrong,
not anymore
The “Thanksgiving” poem from Autumn (Four Seasons, #1)
THANKSGIVING
thanksgiving…everybody seated around the table smiling & holding hands as snow blows around outside & lands against the windows, tender flakes gently resting on my eyebrows before melting onto my skin / in my mind, the end of fall & the beginning of winter & all the joy it brings
delicious scent of family cooking & traditions & recipes laid out on the table before me / so many good things to eat it’s hard to make my mind up & I only can enjoy so much of it tonight / apple pie & green beans & sweet potatoes & squash & stuffing & everything else delicious
& the company of family & relatives, friends held close to your heart, forever bonding / more goes through your mind as you sit there enjoying the company of those closest to you / it’s about friendship & love & warmth, like being wrapped in a warm blanket somewhere perfect & knowing that you’re safe & no matter how cold the wind blows outside the window that you are loved you are loved you are loved
everyone sharing special memories & special thoughts & special recipes & most importantly, your hearts / sharing those things dearest to you / sharing the one thing that matters most, matters more than money or gifts or promises or anything else superficial, but about time / time is the definition of love / love & time, hands entwined
sitting around the table with generation after generation, making memories to last a lifetime
A poem about the new autumn days.
Episode 016 of The Ashlee Craft Show: It’s fall & it’s cozy-time, which means the smell of apple cider & cozy sweaters & pumpkin pie is coming back. The poem, “The End of Summer” from Ashlee’s poetry book “Autumn (Four Seasons #1)” captures the space between summer & fall perfectly.
Ashlee reads “Ground” from A Thousand Cranes, Volume 9
A Thousand Cranes, Volume 9: http://amzn.to/2xTfqPg
“Life is My Playground” T-Shirt, as seen in the video: https://www.shop.ashleecraft.com/collections/t-shirts/products/life-is-my-playground-unisex-t-shirt
GROUND ::
I walked across wet grass & was caressed by raindrops
I trekked across galaxies & stars & suns left unnamed by human tongue
I holed myself up in an apartment contemplating what the answer must be
I time traveled back to the critical moment & changed my mind at the last second
I fought myself in dirty basements of buildings struggling to stay
I took the time to learn about the magic kept locked inside of me
I learned that all that glitters isn’t gold & that gold should not be loved too fondly
I put on my mask to become the person I wanted to be
I felt the breeze of after-rain & touched sunbeams & the earth
& through these things
I discovered where myself was hiding
Ashlee reads a poem from her debut poetry book in Episode 014.
Episode 014 of the Ashlee Craft Show: She reads a poem from The Allure of a Summer Evening, her very first poetry book. The poem? “I Danced Under the Rain Storm”. FUN FACT: She wrote & published the book when she was only 16 years old.