Strangely Familiar

Friends, After an interminable time, I finally found myself in nature again. I was able to soak up as much of the wild as my body could handle- and it was the most delicious feeling. I also find myself writing here again after a too-long hiatus. Maybe writing is like my woods; maybe my creativity is inspired only by nature, and I must go back into the wild to find it again. Here, I share a writing that reflects the joy I find in the simple act of being outside: ~Finding the Woods Again~ By Poonam Desai Yesterday, I walked through our woods, And found our names carved into the river stones. The pile of logs that housed our whispered conversations Still stands home to the spiders and ants We had long forgotten. The pitcher we used to water our garden Has since been reclaimed by the forest moss and vines. Time is far slower in this grove of trees And though we left years ago, it holds our magic yet. Do you recall When we played tag at the foot of the hill? H...

Hello friends, Today, I offer you a poem in honor of International Women's Day that I wrote last year. Hallelujah for the women who have come before us, and those who are paving the way now. ~ The Ground Beneath Her Feet~ each step is taken with a different woman's foot a sweet child innocent of pain the woman going to confront her fears a painted hong kong whore the shy lover me walking home a wizened hippie whose hair flows freely the woman who just can't leave a mother who knows whom her life is for a step. transform. a step. transform. now i walk through tahrir square, witnessing a revolution... step/transform now i carry water home from the village well my sari swishing around my ankles... step/transform now i run along the beach in blissful first world peace... step/transform now i walk in sure-footed confidence in the jungle that is my home... step/transform now i click-clack on the glass ceiling in my power-hungry he...

Hi Friends, My mind isn't always as glib as I'd like it to be, but every now and then, I get a nice trickle of thoughts that actually conveys what I'd like it to say. I haven't posted any paintings in a while, but I will soon! For now, I'd love to hear your thoughts on the next few poems I post. This first poem is inspired by a National Geographic article on vanishing languages. One part of the article described a man who was literally the last speaker of his language. http://ngm.nationalgeographic.com/2012/07/vanishing-languages/rymer-text There was such an exquisite sadness to this thought, of being the only one left to speak your mother tongue, not to be able to communicate in the language you learned the world in. Thus, this poem: ~Last Speaker of My Language~ It is far too quiet now In my prairie home I wander between hand-built houses Remembering the laughter of so many lives. Little pursuits carry so much Mean...

After what seems like months of nothing, I've finally been able to do some poetry writing, painting, and art making... my soul is delighted! Below, I share with you a poem I wrote this evening. For some reason I had the phrase "We lost everything in the fire" stuck in my head today- it was obviously something I needed to explore, and this is what I got: "We lost everything in the fire," they say. Haven't we all? Does not the fire of anger passion love consume us from our writhing insides to our crackling flesh? Bones burned down like house frames; wisdom and knowledge reduced to ashes  like hundreds of well-thumbed books; a bit of soul wandering about the ruins of our mind like a singed cat mewing at the loss. The earth is indelibly scorched... as are we when we burn and lose everything in our fires. (Poonam Desai, 6/10/2012) Beyond that, I also tried out a technique I learned in high school: transferring a...

Friends, What exhilarates you? What brings a fresh, blooming smile to your face? There are so many things I love in this world: cooking, hiking, painting, reading... but also rain! Rain has this amazing capacity to brighten my face and invigorate me, much like it does to the ashy trees that line a street, which suddenly turn vibrant green after a storm. I used to "shower" in the rain when I was little; and let's face it, if I had my own backyard, I probably still would. It was wonderful- feeling cleansed by nature's own bath. Once I climbed on top of my parents' brick mailbox and sat through an entire storm. I watched the birds fly frantically to find shelter, I heard the hot humming of Texas insects cool in the moist, chilly air. I saw sky darken, the lightning crack in the deep gray air, and felt the rolls of thunder reverberate through me. The sky opened and I was SOAKED from head to toe, just like the rest of my street. The pounding rain quickened and then ...

Dear Friends and Family, Happy new year to you all! What I hope this new year brings for all of us, but especially me, is balance. I find this is something I constantly seek, but never quite get right. A friend once told me, though, "balance is not a tension-less state." Perhaps what I seek is not the peace and calm associated with doing nothing, but the peace and calm associated with doing the things I want to/ love to do well. I, like so many of the other "go-getters" I know, want to do everything perfectly and end up failing. Perhaps, this year, I will allow myself some balance by prioritizing the things I need to do with the things I love to do- not trying to make all endeavors equal. This year, I want to make more time for family/friends, dance, and art, as well as self- care (meditation, cooking, exercise...etc). The other things will get done. How do you want to bring balance to your life? I'd be curious to hear your thoughts and/or any suggestions. ...

My apologies for not being consistent about my posts! Truth be told, I haven't written or created any art in some time; so, instead, I will share a poem I wrote when I first moved to Chicago last August. I was walking through Lincoln Park in the afternoon, feeling homesick and keeping to the shade, when I, just for a few moments, felt like my senses were on fire. All the sounds in the park were magnified, the path on which I was walking got brighter, and I got such a strange heady feeling that I sat down on the nearest bench. Here's what came of it: ~Home~ In a new place, I find remnants of my home. Humid, warm air soaks my armpits and my brow as I walk in a shady park. The crickets and cicadas cry out tirelessly, "We are! We are!" We are life. We are beauty. We are one. Miraculous trees in Urban outer space ground me To the earth, root me In place I am home wherever I find my memories. I am home. ~Poonam Desai (8/16/2010) Lincoln Park/ Urban Oa...