Irene Mitchell

Irene Mitchell Poems

Anywhere
is the center of the world.

In the beginning
...

Lyric hardball
is to be played with reverence
in the mind's court,
a game of solitaire
...

What is it
about the stars in their mooring
that is so seminal?
...

In the beginning, love was a plainsong
heard simply as wind
rushing through hectares of tall grass.
...

Spring holds back because
I must not be led into green haven
where leaves and grasses would appall
and soft winds distress me.
...

We Are Each Other's Proof


Has it been twenty years or two minutes
...

When splitting a rock,
one must soften first
its interior until the exterior
no longer has anything to cling to.
...

There are enough spies in the land
to find, finagle, and deliver
the object of desire-
information,
...

To find a footing is to construct
a plan, one that reverberates
beyond the garden grid.
...

No grief, only gladness for now, for now
there is a porcelain clearing on fragile Earth
which widens to a wild complexity
having many angles but none sharp,
...

The Best Poem Of Irene Mitchell

Mythologies

Anywhere
is the center of the world.

In the beginning
all was under water until
we took up our positions
upon the place of emergence,
the seeded earth,
making different noises for the same reason,
nourished on cloud pollen
and flower dew.
Arctic birds winged ahead and came back.

The fulmar flew over ice floes
with a flattering song
just as the people with much to carry in their sleds,
bows strung and thrummed,
were about to set out on a hunting journey
for sea mammals and reindeer.

However, they had no luck in their hunting
because Universe was sleeping,
not looking after his children.

Universe and his wife Rain Woman
had been busy billing the Northern Lights
as the flashings of spirits in combat.
The sky was so heavy in the morning,
it stole light from heaven so birds could find their way.
Universe and his wife remained in bed.

This posed a delicate problem,
yet I understood more than I saw.

I called to my steersman,
who rose and pulled up the anchor
awash in the sea,
believing only in my own mind.

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