Tag Archives: poetry

The Heavy Click

Posted on March 31, 2024 by jillbpearlman

Because the couch didn’t mean anything to him –the guy I knew in my 20s who hightailed itevery time a girl moved her couch to his place.  Because he was foul-mouthed and funny, it stuck; I high-tailed it also, livingon my … Continue reading →

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In-Betweens of Mud Season

Posted on March 18, 2024 by jillbpearlman

Change of season: vital transition:Material transfusion: new juice.  How does the introvert welcome that? Mixed.  Don’t make me give upheavy curtains pulled to nurturemy wild interior!  My own twigs being burnedfor my inner heat and observation. Observe what comes upfrom winter’s meditation. Attention to … Continue reading →

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The Dirty Socks Part of March

Posted on March 3, 2024 by jillbpearlman

We’ve entered the dirty socks part of March, the dingy linen stained grunge metal time when winter’s rough hide pokes up in earth’s skin.  It’s the shoulder season – not white shoulder, not tanned shoulder – the prickly wan unexercised but … Continue reading →

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Passion of the Slighted Chapbook

Posted on February 26, 2024 by jillbpearlman

Once we become aware of something, we start to see it everywhere. The long-ignored thing, which existed but meant little to us, asserts itself with a vengeance, a passion of the slighted and overlooked.   Thus my relationship with chapbooks, small … Continue reading →

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Fat Drop Song

Posted on February 19, 2024 by jillbpearlman

February gives us thinking waterstrees of dessicated lacereeds hanging on memories of yellowness The pause, the somnolence, the hard work between the desert and ecstasy Then shoots of crocus grow fresh nervesin last night’s snow banks.And fat drops of melting … Continue reading →

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Secret Face – Upon Observing Barbara Kruger’s Installation

Posted on January 28, 2024 by jillbpearlman

A parking lot with rain:How jagged the concreteHow silken its puddles Its poured-out watery silhouettesMagic concentric circlesFast like a dazzling tap dancerWhose moves outpace the eyeOr a spinning vinyl in black light How the mind anticipates what it seesHow a camera … Continue reading →

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Winter’s Other

Posted on January 7, 2024 by jillbpearlman

Lushly, thicklya polar bear hibernatesunder our infinite skies,  in our midst:bristling white visiting behemoth. From my tiny pane,I see its heavylugubrious breathing see its lungs, and firrise and fall in branch and mindand rise again.

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Memo for the Next Year

Posted on December 31, 2023 by jillbpearlman

When I said I believed in lightness, I wasn’t kidding.  Over and over, I return –not to escapism or fantasy or ostrich necks–but to dissolving solidity, breaking up the world’s fixity.   My holidays – as if a wild angel came reeling from the … Continue reading →

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A Spectacle and Nothing Strange

Posted on December 4, 2023 by jillbpearlman

Rain in Paris, great whorls of it spinning, falling as knotted string, strung pearls, bird’s nests,gray hair, wire barbed or not, cat gut, old paint brushes,tumbleweeds.  Clean your hairbrush, bad curtainsin strips, cloud shreds, albumen, cauldrons of bouillon, cassette ribbons, phlegm and … Continue reading →

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To Spill; a Sequin Jacket; Public Opinion

Posted on November 19, 2023 by jillbpearlman

His sequin jacket, so tight last night,scatters itself across the water. Parts always made up his whole,the reveler never believed in Absolutes;   nor did trees who say enough to a green monolith,and spangle into scarlet, rust, cranberry. Opinion these days, … Continue reading →

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