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Erin Suurkoivu Apr 2017
Once
in the old neighbourhood

I had never felt more beautiful
and unafraid.

But I am afraid now
as you stalk near.

My words are naked babies
and I must run.

Swifter beasts than me
have not survived

the chase
across the savannah.

You too struck
quick as lightning.

Do they willingly give up
their bodies and blood?

Are they all too happy
to submit to death?

But I,
I just wanted to get out alive.
Erin Suurkoivu Mar 2017
I search for the true reflection.
Is it in the mirror or the camera?
Is it in a lover’s eyes or an enemy’s?

I don’t profess to stand on a pedestal,
but I stand on something,
and it seems it’s always something

that knocks me off.
And we may say, I know, I know,
for I have also been there.

I know who she is. I know, I know.
I know the problems she’s facing,
as if we are all wise men.

But it’s becoming clear
that you can only ever walk
in your own shoes.
Erin Suurkoivu Mar 2017
what is sand
but the finest of glass?

and what are bones
but the finest of ash?

and you may try to crush
me down into the finest of elements,

reduce me to nothingness,
******* to the wind.

but I have a talent
for rising again,

oh yes.
you cannot keep me down for long.
Erin Suurkoivu Mar 2017
the latitudes of freedom are not hard to measure --
though they can be difficult to achieve.
there are limited means, and a day --
dashed by uncooperative weather, the wind
outside raging like some mythical beast --
blowing the snow sideways, piling the drifts.
and so the day unfolds in the usual way,
and the night -- the foreseen sleep interrupted,
as it has been for years, and the road ahead --
while invisible still -- promises more of the same.
Featured along with other fine poems in my poetry collection, "Witch", available on Amazon or through Lulu.
Erin Suurkoivu Feb 2017
the edges are stained blue

and no matter
that spring is holding out its hand
in a promise,

spring becomes summer,
summer fall,
and winter again,

and the hours and the hours and the hours

and cities rise
and forests fall

once, gods
are now falling into disrepair,
temples on the verge
of imploding.
An old friend of mine is dying. He's on the other side of the country. I wish I could see him one more time. Money is nothing to some people, but everything to me.
Erin Suurkoivu Jan 2017
you love me -- though you don’t

know me fully --

just as you love

the stars at night --

the vastness

you can’t imagine --

lighting up

eternity.
Erin Suurkoivu Jan 2017
dense as marble, your body
is something to hold onto

after years of chasing shadows,
thin reedy men whose leavetakings

were their legacies, fashioning
(maybe by accident) crude sharp tools

with which to stab my heart.
look at it today,

made thick by crisscrossing
scar tissue. have you ever seen

anything so beautiful
that was broken but

unbroken? here, feel
the heft of it in your palm.
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