You Have My Heart – A Poem

I agonized overglowing heart_2

what to get

him for Love

Day. It had

never been my

favourite day, it

had always been

a day of

heartache instead of

light. I commented

on this one

night as Love

Day was fast

approaching. He took

my hands in

his and smiled.

“You don’t have to get me anything.”

He said kindly.

“But I do. I have to find something for you that shows you how much I love you.”

He saw the

look of anguish

on my face

and smiled again.

“You already have given me something.”

“No, I haven’t.”

“You have. Look.”

He took my

hand and touched

it to his

chest. Under my

hand, a brilliant

golden light began

to shine forth.

“That’s your heart. You gave it to me the first time you told me you loved me.”

I felt my

hearts warmth emanating

from him. He

took his hand

and pressed it

to my chest.

Gold light spilled

from beneath his

hand and the

light pulsated in

time with the

light that came

from his chest.

“If you have my heart, what’s inside of you?”

“Don’t you know?”

I shook my

head, seeing him

smile once again.

“It’s my heart. I gave it to you the first time I told you I loved you.”

I was breathless

with want for

him at that

moment and kissed

him softly on

his gorgeous lips.

When our lips

met, our hearts

sang to each

other, filling the

room with soft

golden light

A Man Remembered – A Poem

There was a seanetherlandsbutterflycropcircle

of police cars in

front of my building.

They dotted the pavement,

their lights shining like

flowers caught in the snow.

Entering my building,

I saw a stretcher in front

of the elevators. It was

red and empty. I wondered

what had happened,

if someone was hurt.

I saw the super standing

by the elevators, as if lost.

He looked unreachable.

I moved towards him,

called his name softly so

that he would hear me.

I had the sense something

was very wrong indeed.

He looked up at me,

hearing my approach.

“What’s wrong? What happened?”

My voice seemed loud,

echoing off the lobby walls,

the lobby itself somehow

bigger than it was.

When he raise his eyes to mine,

they were red and swollen,

tears having dried along his face,

marking his skin like ink.

“You know the man downstairs?”

He asked me. His voice was cracked

and dry, as if he had forgotten

how to speak. I shook my head,

unsure of who he meant.

“He wasn’t well. Very paranoid. He’d changed his locks so no one could get in.”

I was silent, not sure what to say;

not sure there was anything

that could be said. The super

let out a sound that was

part breathe of release

and part sob. He took a

deep breath and I imagined him

swallowing the sob, as if he

taking it back into him.

“I’ve never seen a dead body. People were complaining about the smell.”

I found my voice, a small

quiet part of it that slipped

past my lips

“Didn’t anyone know him? Any family? Someone must have known him.”

The super shook his head,

more tears sliding down his

face in the tracks left

by the ones that had dried.

“He didn’t have anyone. He was alone.”

The sob broke free then and he

turned away for a moment.

When he turned back, he was

more composed, holding it together.

“You always hear about this in the movies, you know? This doesn’t feel like a movie.”

I nodded, my voice having gone again.

I needed to get away, to feel the

cool air upon my face.

As I walked out of my building,

I watched the blue and red lights

make patterns on the snow.

I breathed in the air,

relishing its bite,

grateful that I was alive

to feel it upon my skin.

When I walked back into my building,

they were bringing the stretcher

out of the elevator. This time,

it wasn’t empty. This time,

the man lay upon it,

encased in a cocoon. It reminded me

of a red chrysalis.

I stood to the side as

other men took the man outside

and away from me.

I watched him go and wondered

why there was no one that

would find out about him,

no one who would miss him,

mourn his passing, no one

who would remember him

for the man that he used to be.

I gave the super a final nod,

which he returned, before

going back inside my apartment.

Once inside, gathered some sage

that I had purchased.

I said a short prayer for him

and hoped that he could hear me.

“I just want you to know that even though we never met, I’ll remember you.”

I took a breath than and

lit the sage, watching the flakes

turn into fragrant smoke.

“You’re free now. Free. So be at peace. I’ll remember you.”

As I watched the smoke

from the sage float towards the ceiling,

I pictured his spirit,

free from the chrysalis of his body.

I pictured his spirit.

He had finally grown wings

so that he could fly

home. I watched the sage

burn out.

“I’ll remember you.”

I said.

Talking with the Earth – AVAILABLE NOW in eBook!

Talking witht the Earth cover

Hey Everyone!

I have the most awesome of news! Talking with the Earth, the follow up to the Number One Best Selling Talking to the Sky, is released in eBook!

How awesome is that? I’m thrilled!

Here’s the book blurb:

Talking with the Earth contains poems that are part memoir, part journey to healing. All the conversations contained within are real or imagined.

The poems are the author’s attempt to find his place in the world and to carve his own path through life.

With unflinching honesty, Wolf talks about disease, sexuality, physical disability and the healing power of love.

Take a walk along the Earth, won’t you?

It’s out in eBook now and you can find it here:

http://www.amazon.com/Talking-Earth-Jamieson-Wolf-ebook/dp/B00SYWNCA6/ref=sr_1_2?ie=UTF8&qid=1422643469&sr=8-2&keywords=Talking+with+the+Earth

It’ll be out in paperback shortly. In the meantime, get yourself an eBook copy and start reading today!

It collects a year’s worth of poems as I continue to find my voice anew and hone it. A lot of the poems in the collection really surprised me. Unlike Talking to the Sky, this time around, I remember every one.

I am so proud of this book. I hope you come with me on my journey.

Warrior of Wind and Stars – A Poem

You are a Warrior.she-whos-hair-is-made-of-stars-lady-taylor

With the Wind

as your steed,

you glide forward,

never looking back.

With the Stars

as your armor,

you are protected

and stand against

those who would

keep you down.

With the Sun

as your shield,

you defend the

honour of those

that you love.

With your Light

as your sword,

you cut away

at the darkness

so that you

continue to shine

bright for all

that know you.

Your strength and

wisdom are a

constant source of

inspiration and we

can only hope

to one day

shine as brightly

as you do.

*For Jackie, who is awesomeness personified. Happy Birthday!!!

Flower Fog – A Poem

“You have no idea who I am, do you?”index

The truth was,

as I saw

the woman approaching

along the crosswalk,

a smile of

recognition on her

face, I figured

she knew me.

As she came

closer, I searched

for her name,

tried to recall

it, tried to

pluck it out

of the fog

that had bloomed

inside my head

like a flower

made of fog.

As she got

near to me

and saw no

smile of recognition

in my face,

she slowed and

the smile faded

from her mouth.

“You have no idea who I am, do you?”

I looked at

her, at the

shape of her

face, heard the

tone of her

voice. I dived

into the fog

and hoped I

would come out

with her name.

Once, when I

saw someone who

I knew, I

called her by

a different name,

Sarah instead of

Stacey. She had

been insulted but

I didn’t bother

explaining. She wouldn’t

have understood. I

swam inside the

fog that was

like a flower

this time and

came up for

air, clutching a

name. I let

it flow from

my tongue and

hoped it was

the right one.

“Of course I know you. You’re Joanne.”

She smiled, but

it didn’t have

the same vitality

as before. She

looked slightly put

out as if

remembering her name

didn’t let me

off the hook

entirely. We talked

briefly, but it

lacked the warmth

there would have

been had I

greeted her with

a smile. I

knew she was

unnerved by the

blankness and nothingness

the fog that

not only swam

inside my head

but along my

face. We said

our goodbyes and

I walked home

proud of myself

for having remembered

her name.