“20 ways to repurpose a light bulb”

It tells me I need to start with a good grip around the bulb,
give the solder point a twist and free the brass contact
from the wires leading to the filament. If I make it that far,
I have to break the insulator and pull the filament out
from there. Grabbing the fill tube, I need to empty out the bulb
and wipe it out to get it ready.

I guess I could channel my childhood and turn the bulb
into an aquarium—dropping a little bloodfin tetra in with
a sprig of sea-grass or even make one of three small hanging vases
to put on my wall in the kitchen. If I want to get crafty,
I have directions for a glass sculpture, a holiday ornament,
and seven different size centerpieces.
The real surprises on the list are the light bulb necklace
and the concrete molds for light bulb handles.

Here I am, 4 A.M. on a Saturday morning planted on the couch
peering at the screen through my Jim Bean bottle eyes
and all I see are ways to repurpose this broken bulb
for something new—something it should have never been—
and I wonder why I can’t just grab the oil and a wick and
turn it into what it always wanted to be.

Repurpose your pain
Create a masterpiece
- Art

induratize me, just leave that scent behind;
at the doorway it lingers,
whispering faux truths without surprise.
the snow laughs in reflection, glitter haunts a mirror & to say we
see as nothing, we find there's
constant consistency here.
but water is transformation,
repurpose, great ingenuity;
freezing to create sorrow's surface, melting to break deep rests escape

my mother's brain found it incredibly sad,
trickling chemicals tricking bodies into reform,
skirmishing the soul away from the eyes,
to think if I could shake her free.
and that's what a love hath done to me, so i wait for the melt,
to remember my uncertainty


© 2015 Kate Volk

In my hour of distress
I find solace in your steadiness
Every tear you repurpose
When my mind is a furnace
You are the mouth I use most eloquently
Without you, I fear I could not speak
An open window when I have no doors
You rest in my hands, and I in yours

Got to remember
how the **** to swim
before it's far too late-
before I must surrender
to the flow of things in Time

Got to break this spell,
got to break free from
this hell
in which I hold myself
captive
pleading for
a more fair Judge and Jury;

Holding myself prisoner
even though not consciously,
this sort-of Shadow puppetry
is forcing me to see that
I've got to relearn to swim
before it's far too late-
to rectify and repurpose
all these persistent negative Energies
and turn all this darkness
once more into light.