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Blogger, (at the METAPHOR.atorium, singer-songwriter, poet, visual artist, an odd jobber, a web site tweaker and multi-media tinkerer. Mar is founder and editor of Bent Pin.Net - and webmistress for the Wednesday Night Poetry Series She has two chapbooks: Inverse Origami the art of unfolding, (1998) and Tabernacle of Bees, (2009)
Her poems have been published in the Fairfield Review, the Common Ground Review, the Connecticut River Review, the Underwood Review, Poeticas, X- Magazine, on the In Our Own Words website, the Natural Networker, Psychofridge, the Erotic Readers & Writers Poetry Gallery, the original print version of the Ct Poet, the First Tuesdays in Wilton Anthology, Reggie Marra's book "Living Poems, Writing Lives," and in the now defunct Sacoppee Valley News. A story which appeared in the Ridgefield Press, and was written at the request of local PFLAG members, won a 1996 third place New England Press Association social issues award.
The poem Blood Brothers was included in Inverse Origami - the art of unfolding (1998 from Puzzled Dragon Press) and also in "We Shijin Book I" (2004 from Hanover Press)
Blood Brothers
Hemoglobin shovels O2
into the furnace of this flesh,
Mt. St. Helena hot in the veins,
the blinding burn of this mortal mess:
Volcanic Serb and Croat erupting
Christian, Muslim, Jew, Tutsi
Hutu spew fire and ash, Skinhead
Treader of the Shinning Path, smoke
and vent like Irish Catholic and Protestant
pro-life bombers, policemen with plungers
unemployed militiamen with
fertilizer and fuel oil
We all wear the white hat and
god is always on our side as
hungry and hissing we blister
to flame ---- and blood flows always
just as red as the time before.
Whatever cause we cite, there is another
and we avert our eyes --- In each generation
the ancient animal wakes anew, the sleeping
mountain rumbles, metaphysicians mumble
incantations, the people bring their offerings
to the craters rim:
learning and law
compassion and tolerance
forbearance and forgiveness.
These spread their opium salve and the
Blood-beast dozes a while
under a gilding of grace.
Pick the scab of blessedness
and blood roils forth once more.
Some new Pompeii’s burned or buried
smothered in sulfur, an ocean boils
but the mountain does not care
for blood has no age of consent
no theology nor dogma
blood holds no point of view
no nationality, no vote
no academic certification
no credit rating, no latex condom.
And the blood dries to a crust,
ugly smudges down the pages
of every sacred text.
Cain and Abel were brothers
blood-brothers.
O blood without end --
Ah men.
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