Raw Earth Ink
Spit mixed with dirt – Muddy words flow
An Untitled Poem to Start Out September, Apparently
may sleep come soon
in this great dark chasm of emptiness
together, alone
dimly aware of the spaces between us
whispers become braying
an ass with that same old song
I wish I could say: this too shall pass
instead I join in, a melody of my own
same lips though
even in the joining, I despise myself
my weakness
my neediness
my
loneliness
the chasm widens
but instead of peace
my scratchy eyelids widen
still wide awake
still
alone
same ass’s song
different night
and I keep laying on “my side”
though
utterly pointless
in my restless daze
my arm, of its own purpose,
snakes and slithers
finds cold
and (being cold-blooded)
winds back to the warmth of my breast
and the loneliness ascends
while my mind descends
and, alone on a moon-less night,
I howl, I bray
I refuse to acknowledge the tears
and I begin a numbers ritual
something with patterns, I’m sure
self-soothing
but still lonely
tara caribou | ©️ 2025
Untitled Poem
that early morning sigh
sun still beneath the horizon
I slip on your skin
like a robe woven in love
intoxicated by the scent of you
but completely sober
awake to reality, it’s you
the finisher of my now
the weight of your hand on my hip
before you draw me closer
the most natural movement
together we exhale deeply
mostly asleep
at peace, finally at peace
safe, protected
whole
this completeness covers me
excites me, I crave you
even as you plunge in
plumbing my depths
diving to an ultimate finish
I bloom, then fade into peace
the morning sky shifts
grey becoming nearly blue
I turn and wrap myself around you
it’s your turn to wear my skin
murmuring I love you
as we drift down the river together
tara caribou | ©️2025
The Endless Road
black tar ribbon flows
moves like water
racking up distance
my eyes yawn
mind darting
thinking thinking thinking
missing one, with hope
I have no courage
bravery: unknown
worry, my companion
beauty (through my eyes)
and fear (in my mind) braiding
what if…
what if…
oh, what have I done?
the ribbon flows on
I, with my thoughts,
ride atop its waves
pulled by tides unseen
emotions, too, like tides
pull and swirl
this endless road is only a metaphor
and I, a mere shadow
tara caribou | ©️2025 photo by me, Yukon Territory, Canada
See also CG Tenpenny’s poem which touched me deeply as I read it through. He made part of the same trip as well, though his journey much further, as he drove from Georgia to Alaska… but the mark the Yukon Territory made seems to be just as strong for him as it was for me.
Somewhere in the Mountains of Canada:
rock totem
watches
over Valley
what changes seen
glacial arm
become mineral river
become dry boulder bed
dust and echoes
goats of the mountain
now
with delicate hooves in motion
cross and listen
tara caribou | ©️ 2025
Oh thank heavens this trip is done. While the scenery is beautiful, sometimes breathtaking and sometimes terrifying, it’s a hard trip. On your body and on your mind.
As for me, I am, finally, home.
Clouds, Like Sheep’s Wool, Cover the Land
They say everything looks clearer at 30,000 feet but I found my clearest sight came while looking out over the wide open fields of Iowa. Breathe in, fresh vision and hope on the horizon. Breathe out, and the troubles of yesterday fade away, if but for a moment. Tears springing to my eyes, coat my cheeks, because it’s so damn beautiful.
And so are you.
My ear to your chest, I heard your heartbeats. I was made to love you. You’re all I could ever hope for or want.
The tears washed away the sadness while your touch dissolved the emptiness. My vision clears and fields of corn greet my gaze. Out of the corner of my eye, I see you. No. I really see you. The inner parts. And you see me. And in that moment, the petals of love opened even more.
tara caribou | ©️2025 photo by me, somewhere over the Alaskan or Canadian coast
Siri, Turn Off My Alarm
and now
me wrapped around you
you inside me
I inhale, you exhale
love like smoke curling from our lips
you, the finisher of my being
I close my eyes, it’s you
upon waking, I am reclaimed
your rite, a right
your touch slithering softly along my curves
making me become a woman
your voice pulling out of me
your name and the creation of something altogether new
tara caribou | ©️2025 photo by me
Hello, my friends.
Hello friends.
Summer has arrived to my corner of Alaska. It’s been warm and quite nice, weather-wise. I’ve been very busy this year, and getting busier. In a few weeks, my good friend, michael raven (of ravensweald), and I will be roadtripping from Alaska, through Canada, and on to the Midwest. I’m sure you’ll see some more updates as that gets underway, though we’ll be busy driving long miles and through some parts where there’s no cell service during the trip itself. Car camping along the way.
There are some changes happening for my family, as well as for my publishing company Raw Earth Ink. Lots of new books on the horizon and occasional content from me, when I’m not overly depressed.
I hope you’re all doing well. Leave me a note here or an email, text, or Telegram with how you’re doing and what you’ve been up to!
Love and light to you. ~tara
When I Wanted to Kiss Your Neck by the River
“This is who I am.” The words rise, though I am alone. I’m not perfect or beautiful or young: “This is me, accept me or reject me.” (Please, love me.) Some minutes later, I park, stumble gracelessly out of the car, hopelessly in love, nervously shrugging the words I had minutes before spoken aloud, and then I fall into your arms and find peace, home. (Please, oh god, please love me.) I think I play it cool, but inside oh how I want to kiss your neck, standing there by the river. Time slows. The wind tosses my hair everywhere. My skirt teases up, whips my knees. The air is fresh and warm. The grass, the leaves impossibly green. The water drifts lazily while the geese waddle by, ignoring us, our quiet conversation. You point out several landmarks and their significance. I remember you telling me about them, sending me photos. Now I see them in real life, with you. I just want to stay near you, from this moment on. My body, now imprinted by the memory of your arms around me, wonders: how to get closer? I can smell you, where my face had pressed to your chest. I wonder if you are half as affected by me as I you. I scoot everso slightly closer to you. Wanting to invade your space. Wanting you back in mine. Wanting your arms around me again. Our bodies pressed together. Our energies intermingling. Wanting to kiss you. For all my senses to be filled by you. Wanting all this and more and somehow at the same time filled with peace. Either you will accept me, or you won’t. Either you will love me or you will walk away. From me, with my flaws and fading youth and sad eyes. Me, with a heart full of love and grace. Me, loving only you.
As I drive away some days later, the skies having opened that morning, overdue rain now drumming the windshield, watering the parched fields, “How am I going to carry on without you now? Now that I’ve had you? Without a heart in my chest?” I wonder who will cry more: me, or the clouds. (I’m betting it’s me.) Tears run down my face. Drip-drip-dripping from my chin. “I love you,” I say inside an empty car. “Please don’t forget me,” I whisper to the passing landscape, hoping somehow my words will find you, in spite of the growing distance between us. But this I now know: you do love me. And I you.
tara caribou | ©️2025 photo by me
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