“I Stand”
by Caroline Plummer
I stand
as a mountain,
rooted, unwavering stillness,
in the face of life's changes.
Changes of mind, body and nature;
periods of light and dark, vivid color and dull drabness;
I have weathered storms, high wind, cold rain,
and I have been touched by the sun.
I savour these moments of stillness, uplift,
as my arms melt gently off my shoulders,
my neck climbs upwards,
gravity is a mooring place for my feet,
and in between a miraculous thing is happening.
My spine is beginning to breathe,
filling with light and air,
overflowing,
from the vast expanses of my inner self.
I stand.
by Caroline Plummer
I stand
as a mountain,
rooted, unwavering stillness,
in the face of life's changes.
Changes of mind, body and nature;
periods of light and dark, vivid color and dull drabness;
I have weathered storms, high wind, cold rain,
and I have been touched by the sun.
I savour these moments of stillness, uplift,
as my arms melt gently off my shoulders,
my neck climbs upwards,
gravity is a mooring place for my feet,
and in between a miraculous thing is happening.
My spine is beginning to breathe,
filling with light and air,
overflowing,
from the vast expanses of my inner self.
I stand.
"The Body Poetic"
by Larry Holgerson
If we could silence the clamor upstairs
monkey minds mad maundering
then maybe, perhaps -
we could hear
the breath-centered poetry of the body.
the aching stretch of sinew
the raging roar of blood through red & blue plumbing
the burbling of fluids down bladders & bellies
the slow squeak of synovial fluid where bones teeter & totter
the yawning arch of bone & its delighted recoil
the rushing current of air enflaming the blaze at the core
& always
the exhilarated drummer at the fires edge
keeping the body
dancing forcefully with gravity.
If we could hear the body
poetic,
beyond the clatter of thoughts
that worry
incessantly
about who we are,
we would know
so much more
about
what we are.
“Poetry of Movement”
by Caroline Plummer
We are porous
in our body’s natural state
wind, water, air, space
We are falling, now flying,
at play with gravity’s gentle laughter
weaving its way around our limbs.
The earth
The breath
We are grounding, grounded, ground
Strings
Being moved
head, sternum, elbow, hand, knee,
foot, waist, ankle, pelvis.
These strings pull me
Unpredictably
Violently
Gently
Beautifully
The contradictions of
Push and pull
Drop and lift
Collapse, glide, desire...
Allowing our heads
to fall from us
give my head to you
forwards and over
I tip this precious vessel
in trust
over your body
over mine
release
to the ground.
by Caroline Plummer
We are porous
in our body’s natural state
wind, water, air, space
We are falling, now flying,
at play with gravity’s gentle laughter
weaving its way around our limbs.
The earth
The breath
We are grounding, grounded, ground
Strings
Being moved
head, sternum, elbow, hand, knee,
foot, waist, ankle, pelvis.
These strings pull me
Unpredictably
Violently
Gently
Beautifully
The contradictions of
Push and pull
Drop and lift
Collapse, glide, desire...
Allowing our heads
to fall from us
give my head to you
forwards and over
I tip this precious vessel
in trust
over your body
over mine
release
to the ground.
“To Dance”
by Caroline Plummer
To take and empty space
An empty mind
An empty body
And fill it with life
Explosions of energy
Poetry of movement
To give mind over body
In a glorious moment
Of spontaneous self
To dance...
I have fern frond legs
And a seaweed spine
I am a babbling brook
Running through soft mossy banks
I am floating out to sea
In a hundred different pieces.
Here it is again
The voluptuous flow
Between conscious and unconscious
Sliding and flying
Earth and sky.
I pour myself across parts of my body
I have never felt before
As I follow momentum
In her beautiful undulating arcs
And I am gravity’s slave no longer.
Instead I play with him
I tempt and provoke him
In all I do.
I am the sculptor’s clay.
A sensitized awareness
An exhilarated being
To dance...
by Caroline Plummer
To take and empty space
An empty mind
An empty body
And fill it with life
Explosions of energy
Poetry of movement
To give mind over body
In a glorious moment
Of spontaneous self
To dance...
I have fern frond legs
And a seaweed spine
I am a babbling brook
Running through soft mossy banks
I am floating out to sea
In a hundred different pieces.
Here it is again
The voluptuous flow
Between conscious and unconscious
Sliding and flying
Earth and sky.
I pour myself across parts of my body
I have never felt before
As I follow momentum
In her beautiful undulating arcs
And I am gravity’s slave no longer.
Instead I play with him
I tempt and provoke him
In all I do.
I am the sculptor’s clay.
A sensitized awareness
An exhilarated being
To dance...
