Raw Earth Ink
Spit mixed with dirt – Muddy words flow
The Reed in the Wind
bend me
bend me
bend me over
gently
don’t break me
soft pushes
mold me
give me a chance
to bend
to change
only be patient
bend me
don’t break me
(I fear I will shatter)
don’t break me
just yet
tara caribou | ©️ 2025 photo by me
The Gap
Are you there?
Please.
I need you.
My voice echoes back,
Unheard.
I’m cold and alone.
Dangerously abandoned.
Destitute.
Desperate for a touch.
Even my memories have fled.
Every breath, a fight.
My eyes, painfully bloated.
Tears, my only companion.
Compassion, denied.
Every motion, weighted.
My hands hang low.
Undone.
I want, hysterically,
To simply sleep.
For rest.
For companionship and comfort.
For you
To fold me in your arms.
Squeeze me into you.
Let me melt,
Sigh and release.
To love me.
Just. Love me.
I am convinced,
Your love could heal me.
I am weak.
Unable to brave the gap.
Knock-kneed and feeble.
I close my eyes,
And pray.
Do you hear me?
tara caribou | ©️2024-25 photo by me
A repost from last year which seems incredibly relevant tonight. Nothing changes, apparently.
The Fool
Oh fool! Fool!
What a foolish girl!
Follow your heart
And be fooled!
Tear out the roots!
Cast down the cost!
Believe that love
Can carry you through,
Oh what a fool!
It never changes,
Does it?
Comes the whisper
So painfully clear.
It never, ever changes.
You will
Never
Be good enough.
You will never
Be enough.
The same foolish thoughts
From the same foolish heart,
You say.
… .. .
And still.
This ache deepens.
Longing to be soothed,
For once,
In peace.
Foolish heart. Foolish hopes.
Foolish dreams.
Foolish girl.
tara caribou | ©️2025
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
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