education, gardening, travel, weather, work & employment

moving on . . .

Yes. I know. It’s been since February . . .  but let me explain:

We’ve moved our home from Southwest to Northeast Portland
(from the South Burlingame to Irvington neighborhood).

I’d barely finished Winter term when Spring Semester was
already bursting through the ground (like those new black
and red tulips I left behind and the compost bin I had going.)
that would’ve come in handy for some fresh gardening.

And soon, I will be helping my boss to move our office . . .
Does the fun ever end?

i’ll tell you all the rest soon!

writing

this girl

this girl

this girl figure skates in her bathtub
this girl is a repressed writer
this girl knows that a pair of shoes
can change your mind and change the world
or at least determine how far you travel.
this girl is friends with black and blue
but doesn’t need a place to sit down
or stand still, to count her bruises
and she doesn’t want her name tag
to read “wife.”
this girl will gently comb your body
examine your every shape for interpretations
in the small of your back
the length of your arms
the back of your calves
your hands.
and you will think to look for her
in dark places and she will laugh at you
standing in a shock of sunlight
eying you from under her umbrella.
and you will love her every contradiction
wish yourself underneath her coat
wonder what it’s like to be the pocket lint
riding soft alongside her hip
you will pack your razorblade suitcase
and this girl will fill the bathtub in the hotel
the room will go cold, your lips will pale
your eyes and hair go white rabbit snowshoes
and the voice of this girl will come
glass shatter blood trickle thirst
you will find yourself skating figure 8s
deep circles of infinite love
stretched taut for
this girl.

~ Andrea E. Janda

writing

color

A contradict of forces
of white and spotted horses,
blue ribbons tied
to hold the lines
of gold-flecked fish
who swim away,
burnished and beautiful
to meet the day.
You’re a contradict of forces,
from grey and untamed horses,
red-murdered young,
my limber tongue,
so lily-white and silenced
by the day i met you,
burnished and beautiful
but black i chose
and kept you
uncolored.

~ Andrea E. Janda

writing

bird of paradise

under the apple
a bird on its back
beak points black
stuck in red meat
pewter bead eyes
cloudy nectar runs down
a sweetness a blindness
and fruit becomes tears.

~ Andrea E. Janda