“channel your energy” by Julia on the couch

By: Julia
poetry, these five minutes, , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

Wednesday May 27, 2020
5:15pm
5 minutes
from a fortune cookie

There’s a slice of moon hanging in the west just for me
I can see it from my balcony
and last night I noticed her there
sending off the divine light
pulsing in the almost June sky

I bleed with the new moon and I dance on the bathroom tile when I am visited by the great knowing

When I see her I call her out by name the way I do when I see a hummingbird or a field of horses along the side of the highway while driving past

This naming is a sacred thanks and there is delight and a childlike essence pointing the finger

This belly of filling and emptying
and filling again is a holy magic trick

I am forever sliding through time with a memory tied to my finger
pulling the history through the sky like a kite on a string

“the deity manifest” by Julia in her office

By: Julia
creative writing, poetry, these five minutes, , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

Wednesday November 27, 2019
11:21am
5 minutes
Egyptian Mythology
Geraldine Pingh

she sometimes feels far away
as in not in this body at all
as in on vacation where she
gets to rest and be taken care of

she doesn’t live in the skin
if the skin doesn’t warm her
or if the bones shake too much

nobody wants to stay in a house
that rattles when the winds come
when the weather changes even
slightly

sometimes, today, right now
she is away away laying low
and breathing slow and she is
not questioning the sand

she is said to be within
but I don’t think that’s how
it works when the body threatens
the spirit by being so sad
as in not in the room
as in not feeling the floor

she comes and goes and I believe
she wants to stay but when there
is such a deep unknowing she does
what’s best for herself

she does not stay where she is not
wanted when she is smart enough to name it

she will check in every now and then
but if the conditions aren’t worth it
she doesn’t have to think twice about
the door

“Three hundred years” by Julia at her desk

By: Julia
Uncategorized, , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

Friday September 28, 2018
9:51pm
5 minutes
From a quote by Barack Obama

Tonight I walked by a raccoon party. There’s some symbolism already, K tells me, and I should probably start looking this stuff up. It’s 3 raccoons at first and then I look to the left and there are 3 more in on it. One skunk. There is symbolism about skunks too, I’m sure, and I take a photo cause I don’t know what else I’m supposed to do. K tells me to look up skunks and raccoons and snakes. Together? No, K, says, just when you get a moment. Don’t make it your life’s work or something. Like you? I joke, but K isn’t laughing at all. K has drank most of her blood red wine and is asking if she can have what’s in my glass. I give it to her cause she bought the bottle and I care more about looking up the goddesses and whatever associated with the little lawn party I feel like I was a part of. No snakes on the lawn, mostly in text books and on medallions, and in stories. K wants me to write the story of my first day on earth. I don’t want to tell her that it might be pretty boring. It’ll start with Cold Cold Cold and then maybe lead into Cry Cold Cry. K isn’t impressed with my comedy. She says I am wildly talented but have a chip on my shoulder and sorry for saying so but it’s true. I think she might be right. I wish I didn’t give her the rest of my wine.

“this is how it sometimes is at God’s table” by Sasha at the Fringe Creation Lab

By: these five minutes
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Sunday October 20, 2013 at the these five minutes: writer’s workout at the Fringe Creation Lab
1:27pm
5 minutes
The Essential Rumi
Ed. Coleman Barks

The placemats are the make-your-own with an iron kind. The ones you can get at that art supply store. You put photos in between the two sheets of plastic and you… iron. God made these in August, when she was hot-flashing and moody. She’d elastic-banded an icepack to her bra strap. She took photos of her brothers, her daughters and you, quite a few of you, and she arranged them, collage-style, for each rectangular placemat. She also put in a cut out from a magazine of lasagna, because it’s her favourite, and a cut out from the newspaper of something Nelson Mandala said, to keep things real. She drank ice-y limeade and she arranged the collaged and she ironed, watching the plastic stick together and get gooey at the corners. Simon and Garfunkel played on her small, red boom-box.