Nobel Prize

This piece I wrote in response to a prompt I gave my Goddesses retreat in Arles, France, June 2017. The prompt was, “Write your own Nobel prize reception speech.” Image credit: Proserpine, by Gabriel Rossetti


The poet speaks like ancient druids and fairies

of turning sideways into the light.

Makes no sense to the shareholder, the engineer. Whispers

that stir under canon fire but that the drones of death cannot annihilate

because words are nothing:

immaterial, immortal, immature, immediate,

immense. The woman

takes hold of these words. Fondles them.

Suckles and molds them like clay, like the Goddess she is.

With these immense immaterial things makes little people, animals, friends, enemies, memories.

Spins universes not because she wants to leave this one behind but because she knows

its depths: Grief excavated, and fear, and rage, and inexhaustible longing for softness

from the womb of language, house of being,

matrix of the infinity

that each of us



2 thoughts on “Nobel Prize

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