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The Interdisciplinary Work of Lyss Warmland.

Posts tagged poem

Check out my Lyssmas Eve Eve Special!Screen Shot 2020-01-04 at 11.26.55 AM

Featuring very important production assistant: Luna! And cohost Ashley Bouman!

Coming up: Port Hope Goes Punk
port hope goes punkIG

Top 10 of Season 2:

10. Smokii Sumac, episode 2!

Check out his book here: “You Are Enough: Love Poems for the End of the World”

9. Susan K, episode 17!

Listen to a clip in the episode.

8. Nickola Magnolia, episode 4!

Listen to a live update and live performance of one of her beautiful original songs in the episode.

7. Robert Washburn, episode 26!

6. Josh Noiseux, episode 20!

Listen to a clip in the episode.

5. Katie Hoogandam, episode 23

Listen to a reading of one of the poems from her chapbook, Mothertongue, available at Let’s Talk Books in Cobourg in the episode.

4. Psychedelics, episode 18

Listen to a clip in the episode.

3. Kristie Salter, episode 13

Listen to a clip in the episode.

2. Maureen Pollard, episode 11

Listen to a clip in the episode.

1. Holly Barclay, episode 19

Listen to a clip in the episode.

Featured Tunes:

Corn Dog Sonnet No. 7- Sincere Engineer
Failed Imagineer- Propagandhi
My Favourite Chords- Weakerthans

I’ve been falling in love
with my bellybutton
as it slowly pops out, being
pushed out into the world along
with this someday soon task-
motherhood.

Thicker ribcage where he’s pushed
my organs
up and out of his way as he grows and
for once, my body doesn’t struggle
in fact,
it turns out growing this being
feels like
what I was made for.

No more hip bones
protruding, just
soft curves, softer still.

This body
simultaneously mine/not mine
it’s magic it’s
home
to my baby and I
while we grow us one
just for a while longer.

Sometimes I think I’ll miss him
when he’s not a part of my body
yet I know
I’ll dance in every moment
he breathes on his own
because motherhood is simultaneously
mine/not mine.

Because this body can only hold
temporary truths
as he grows,
this body can be home
mine, his
soft, and softer still.

My grief has looked a lot like
taking the long way home,
ugly sing-screaming to a band all
my friends hate

“I don’t care about anything as much as I used to”

the words another grad school reject
wrote feeling like the ones
I wish i’d written
instead of words with no consistent pattern
no structure
no plan.

But I guess when it comes to grief,
I’ve learned that no plan I make
no work I do
is going to change the simple fact that
I lost them
I might lose this one-
but maybe I won’t.

So when I ugly sing along with
someone who doesn’t know I exist
about beings I’ve lost who never existed
I feel the spark carried by my voice
her words
my meaning
I let it light the candle that
holds some space for hope.

(quote from “Overbite” by Sincere Engineer.)