Creative Work: ‘if you can’t move, let the breath move..’ and ‘fragility’ by Audrey Dimola


We’re proud to announce that this week’s post comes to us all the way from Queens, New York native, Audrey Dimola.  At first glance, Audrey’s poetry may seem intimidating, its complexity daunting but its beauty obvious.  Interviews

Every piece of punctuation, every space and line break is painstakingly chosen to add greater depth to her onslaught of vivid images and demands that we read every line twice and ponder its meaning a third.  

if you can’t move, let the breath move..
if you can’t be the ship, be the oar.
if you can’t be the oar, be the compass.
if you can’t be the compass, be the slightest stirring
in the voyager’s heart that told him –
i will not waste this day like all the others.
if you can’t be the voyager, be the faintest flickering
of the arrow magnetized towards whatever is greater –
whatever you can see in that last moment,
with your eyes widened and the water in your lungs –
that suddenly makes you forget how to drown.

the smallest movement matters.
one shift toward home is precious,
even if you’re dragging yourself there –
hand over hand, finger over finger,
chipped and bloody – stunned senseless
from the sheer force of your forgetting.
don’t you remember? – reading, writing:
“there is a light that never goes out.”
there is a piece of you that cannot forget
the first bloom of god on man’s tongue
acknowledging himself, too, as infinite.
be courageous in your darkness.
the beginning of becoming took shape
with one pure cry to heaven,
inconsolable..

open your mouth and you
will find the words.

fragility
precious mother leans against me
i feel her heart beat through her chest
and my gratitude for her existence turns to
paralyzing fear..
there have been times in my life
i’ve been able to
move freely in space
move openly
and with love
to where my heart took me
because i realized
there really is no leaving
when you are everywhere
at once and you are
riding the dip and wave
of the symbol that
describes us,
end over end
over and over –
infinity.

but the tick of the
clock becomes
deafening.
each grain
slipping through the
hourglass
more painful
than the last.
you seize the day
until
there’s nothing left
for seizing
and you are
white-knuckled holding
on so hard
you forget what is love
and what is expectation
what is genuine and
what is forced
you forget what you have
in being consumed by
when you’ll lose it.

my eyes are tired from
reading and reading
the teachings
my lips are cracked
from repeating
the affirmations
my palms are split,
hands numbly aping
the action –
open, close
open, close
why can’t
i just
let go?

when i look
look really hard
i see past
the mornings i wake
in tears
hyperconscious of my
unconsciousness..
i am still the little girl
who wanted everything
i am still the little girl
who washed her hands
until they bled
who started her homework
over and over
when the letters didn’t curve just right
the one who
wanted to touch some things
and not others
who
set up toys to play and
then got lost in the empty space –
suddenly
pointless
suddenly
an ending
suddenly
emptiness.
you grow older but
you don’t grow up –
we sometimes grow
downwards instead,
tangling our roots
around our feet.
somehow in my
journeying,
my running-climbing-swimming
in and out of
love-pain-brilliance-inspiration
pure NOTHINGNESS
i became that person
i never wanted to be.
i am looking you in the eyes
but i am not LOOKING
because i can’t bear to love you
any more than i do –
because i can’t bear to
have to excise myself
from your flesh, your heart, your blood, your bones
that day you will be taken
away from me.

each time i break through
thrust my head above the water
inhale like a dying man the
breath of immortality
my legs get caught in the
karmic vines stretching up
from the bottom of this sea
of possibility
and i am left thrashing in this
twisted symbiosis
my fears
and me
my fixations
and me
i know better
i should know better
why don’t i know better?
STOP.

washing up on the shore
i press my head against
the sand
humbled by the realization
for once
for once in my life i am
too afraid to love,
no –
too afraid to even admit
i am too afraid to love.

but –
just let me move my
shaken hands
towards you
just let me lean
my head against yours,
shoulder to shoulder..
just let me
try
really try
to look into your eyes
and see you,
fragile and
beautiful
for all you are.
just grant me the sanctity
of this
moment
to remember –
none of this ends,
my heart –
none of this ends
at all.

To say the least, Audrey’s poetry is quite powerful. It’s as if she gives a voice to the feelings we don’t dare bring to the surface of ourselves and pays homage to the complexity of thoughts that we often dismiss as abnormal or cowardly.

 At the same time, the reader is left with a warm, comforting feeling at the end of each poem, as if suddenly reminded of someone who loves them and there is a place where they belong. 

Join us next week for another round of poetry, our inbox seems to be full of it these days and we convey our profound thanks to everyone who has been submitting in the last couple of weeks!

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One thought on “Creative Work: ‘if you can’t move, let the breath move..’ and ‘fragility’ by Audrey Dimola

  1. Pingback: happy wild new year | audrey dimola.works+progress

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