I’m currently in California visiting my family, so I have been lacking in my poem postings the last couple days. I will be able to finish up this month of poems as soon as  I get back to Portland early next week. until then, here is a great poem by Sonya Rene

“Exile” Day 25

open up the willow wood doors

light the incense

anoint the altar

with tears;

picked scabs

there are candles;

ten fingers melting

into oil puddles.


We keep the ravens

on either side

to remind us

of balance

splinter jagged edges

of crow’s feet

on our faces

cut our hair

to scarred scalp

like Egyptian priests

in mourning.

There is always blood-letting

in this ritual.

Women hold the chalice

or become lambs

lead to offering plates


offer up your heart

place it on my mantle

I will bless you

with every spurt of aorta

with every gag

gasping for air


let my teeth become your currency

my tibia

your backbone

my hipbones

your headdress.


be my follower

be my congregation