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Maya Stein

10 Line Tuesday 55

10 Line Tuesday poems every week with Maya Stein.
I just love Maya’s poems. They say so much with so little words. A great lesson in communication in our overly wordy world.

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Be the Holy Universe **
By Guest Blogger Maya Stein

If you exploded from the pressure. Left a comet trail of toothy rubble.
Blasted the sky with metal-hot planets and their icy twins.
If you ignored the usual parameters of space.
If you let the edges shrink from the margins and disappear.
If you coalesced and dissolved in the same breath. If you carried the paradox
of change, the instruction to take in and let go. If you forgot the body
that brought you here, at the intersection of now and what next.
If you unremembered your winglessness. If you overlooked the signs
that said how far and how much. You can be the holy universe, too,
carving a map from scratch, shouting your prayer of new, indefinite light.

** I borrowed this wonderful line from Mika, a student in one of the Food for the Soul Train after-school creative writing sessions I co-facilitate with Amy Tingle.

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To get these (10 Line Tuesday) poems delivered to your inbox visit: www.mayastein.com


10 Line Tuesday 54

 

10 Line Tuesday poems every week with Maya Stein.
I just love Maya’s poems. They say so much with so little words. A great lesson in communication in our overly wordy world.

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Oxygen
By Guest Blogger Maya Stein

In her apartment, a 5th floor walkup on the edges of the Lower East Side, I could hear the whistle-hiss of the radiators. It was spring, technically, but the forecast admitted, with a twinge of defeat, more snow coming mid-week. She opened the door embarrassed, crying, her body spent from the long season and a weariness in her heart that she feared was permanent, a drought of the muscle necessary for survival in this dense, relentless city. We said, “But this is what it means to be alive.” How a certain retreat, structureless and shadowy, lets the oxygen back in. How roots grow better in the dark. And we sat, quiet, as heat flowered from the walls and the room filled with sounds of the busy street.

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To get these (10 Line Tuesday) poems delivered to your inbox visit: www.mayastein.com

 


10 Line Tuesday 53

Wood, Poems, Coffee

10 Line Tuesday poems every week with Maya Stein.
I just love Maya’s poems. They say so much with so little words. A great lesson in communication in our overly wordy world.

Wood, Poems, Coffee
for Laurie
By Guest Blogger Maya Stein

The day, a series of unconnectable chapters. Bends in the road that lead to a construction site in full swing or worse, a dead end with a sign that says”Turn back.” What interrupts plans, collides with good intentions, tips the equilibrium we’ve been fighting against the sways and sputters of everything that touches us. And how sometimes, our own life begs for a divorce, lifts its heavy arms to sign the papers, begins the first curve of the first letter of our name. Then, like the startle of spring green, the elementals return. Wood, poems, coffee. Warmth, beauty, love.

It is enough. Enough of a bridge that we slide toward the highway again, write a new story that tells where we were and where we might be going.

To get these (10 Line Tuesday) poems delivered to your inbox visit: www.mayastein.com


10 line Tuesday 52

 

10 Line Tuesday poems every week with Maya Stein.
I just love Maya’s poems. They say so much with so little words. A great lesson in communication in our overly wordy world.

Almost
By Guest Blogger Maya Stein

The boys were told to wear pink socks for Sunday’s game, Coach’s nod to the mothers who’d come to the field that afternoon in a line of carpools.

I was there, too, not their mother, exactly, but something in between.
Or nearly. Or almost. The card store comes up empty for such things, the language strange on the not-quite-in-laws’ tongues. Flowers are thrust on the one who made them, these spindly, sweet ones running zigzags in the sun toward a speckled ball. But we are there too, rising early to make pancakes, set the table, slice fruit, make meaning out of math. We are pacing ourselves down the long stretch, the goal fixed but elusive, the turf strange and slippery, the wind knocking on our backs and whispering, “C’mon. You’re one of us.”

Maya Stein

To get these (10 Line Tuesday) poems delivered to your inbox visit: www.mayastein.com


10 line Tuesday 51

 

10 Line Tuesday poems every week with Maya Stein.
I just love Maya’s poems. They say so much with so little words. A great lesson in communication in our overly wordy world.

Optimism
By Guest Blogger Maya Stein

It may have been too late to plant the tomatoes. Regardless, yours is not the greenest thumb. And perhaps the idea to build a tiny library in the front yard, where books could come and go, is fashioned less from skill and good lumber than your unflagging enchantment with how words travel.

There was the threat of frost last night, but stubborn as ever, you pushed those seedlings in. Already, you are dreaming of that first shelf, and what you will put there to be taken by whoever needs it.

You feel it in your mouth, summer at its apex, and this sweetness drives your fingers in the dirt. Something will grow here. Something.

Maya Stein

To get these (10 Line Tuesday) poems delivered to your inbox visit: www.mayastein.com


10 line Tuesday 50

 

10 Line Tuesday poems every week with Maya Stein.
I just love Maya’s poems. They say so much with so little words. A great lesson in communication in our overly wordy world.

The day as sidewalk
By Guest Blogger Maya Stein

It will come upon you like the corner quadrant where goose droppings mingle with gum wrappers and the straw from a Frappuccino consumed that first afternoon it became warm enough for shorts.

Some anonymous someone will have ground out their cigarette in the crack the superstitious kids step over. All of it will look quite mangled and gloomy, ripe for erasure and and a do-over with a pouring of hot asphalt.

So you will bear down, fold in at the knees and shrink – unsuccessfully – into someone less susceptible, hoping, simply, to make your way through.

And then, almost missable, a faint etch of two initials with a plus sign between them.

It is a stitch, a scar line, a wink, a map.

Maya Stein

To get these (10 Line Tuesday) poems delivered to your inbox visit: www.mayastein.com


10 line Tuesday 49

 

10 Line Tuesday poems every week with Maya Stein.
I just love Maya’s poems. They say so much with so little words. A great lesson in communication in our overly wordy world.

7:00 a.m. bagels
By Guest Blogger Maya Stein

Leave the page, dear reader. This is poetry, too: Franklin Street before the kids slump their way toward the high school on the opposite side, a man climbing out of his dusty truck, favoring his left knee, and heaving the shop doors open.

Even if you aren’t yet awake, listen to the rattle of change on the counter as he pays for a medium roast, and look the counter girl in the eye when you ask for your half-dozen. Never mind that “Everything” will contain so much salt your mouth will pucker. Never mind you’re about to run out of orange juice. Let the day begin here, with the smell of warmth and sesame seeds, before you have the language for anything else. Before it has language for you.

Maya Stein

To get these (10 Line Tuesday) poems delivered to your inbox visit: www.mayastein.com


10 line Tuesday 48

 

10 Line Tuesday poems every week with Maya Stein.
I just love Maya’s poems. They say so much with so little words. A great lesson in communication in our overly wordy world.

Spring
By Guest Blogger Maya Stein

Sure, there’s sun. The park is full of it,
the geese dancing in little rings,
the flowers reaching, reaching their petal-fingers.
And yes, little pockets of warm air as I pass
in and out of the shade. The cherry trees are blooming –
this would be evidence enough, even if the breeze still echoes
with a memory of winter. My heart, though,
my heart bears the fullest promise of spring.
My heart is the color of early strawberries,
 carrying a hint of the sweetness to come.

Maya Stein

To get these (10 Line Tuesday) poems delivered to your inbox visit: www.mayastein.com


10 line Tuesday 47

 

10 Line Tuesday poems every week with Maya Stein.
I just love Maya’s poems. They say so much with so little words. A great lesson in communication in our overly wordy world.

Clear as their joy and yearning
By Guest Blogger Maya Stein

We were lucky. The weather service predicted rain, gave us the news with three, four days to prepare, and we added to our luggage the wardrobe for a downpour.

Not them. Not those bystanders at the race or the runners in it.

They began their day innocent to the fury accompanying their journey.

They did not pause after their early breakfast to consider anything but the picturesque spring morning they’d woken into.

A perfect day – oh cruel irony – for running.

I imagine them, peering at the sky, clear as their joy and yearning.

This is what I want to remember: all that blue and the season, turning.

Maya Stein

To get these (10 Line Tuesday) poems delivered to your inbox visit: www.mayastein.com


10 line Tuesday 46

 

10 Line Tuesday poems every week with Maya Stein.
I just love Maya’s poems. They say so much with so little words. A great lesson in communication in our overly wordy world.

Reconciliation
By Guest Blogger Maya Stein

Before the call, a letter. Before the letter, an index finger hovered over a keyboard, on the verge of the first word. Before that word, a thought coalescing, a bubble of clarity rising. Before that bubble, an itch at the neck, a tug at the stomach, some question mark wagging its tail, obstinate as perfume. Before that perfume, a fracture, a breakage, a story splitting itself in half, two narratives spiraling east and west. In the end, it is the memory of wholeness that beckons us back. And so we dive. Through the split, the question, the bubble, the word, the letter, to the call that opens, like spring returning, with “It’s me.”

Maya Stein

To get these (10 Line Tuesday) poems delivered to your inbox visit: www.mayastein.com