by Gerri Ravyn Stanfield | Apr 15, 2015 | Revolution of the Spirit, Revolutionary Poems |
in spring, the gray light is webbed and wet. I walk the tightrope of my healerteacherwriter life. some days, I coax words into the whitespace and listen some nights, from the mists, thirteen wild ones pour into the living room with maenad claws and fearless soft skins... 
by Gerri Ravyn Stanfield | Feb 13, 2015 | Revolutionary Poems, Uncategorized |
Our argument halted, losing heat erratic yips their clever song rising, falling over the deserted golf course. One, three, twenty voices Lift up and fly Howling at empty branches, cold air, pearl sky dying blackberry vines the pleasure of finding a voice at all in... 
by Gerri Ravyn Stanfield | Dec 23, 2014 | Revolutionary Poems, social justice |
Here. Now. I unfurl the rich velvet solace of the night sky, the canticle of the inky sea, that blackness which is all colors put together, outside the firelight when day is unwound. These words are said to be the opposites of dark in the English... 
by Gerri Ravyn Stanfield | Nov 25, 2014 | Revolution of the Spirit, Revolutionary Poems, social justice, Uncategorized |
For Michael Brown and Ferguson There is a dark ragesong rising in the streets. When they cut him open to see how he died, they recorded that his brown arms were uplifted towards heaven an open handed fearprayer more than one hundred feet away from the gunman, one more... 
by Gerri Ravyn Stanfield | Nov 14, 2014 | Revolution of the Spirit, Revolutionary Poems |
Our vegetables are finished, their remains haunt forgotten gardens. The leaves plummet to splendid deaths in raucous evening gowns of gold, copper, scarlet, tangerine. Be kind to yourself, You can’t do it all and there is so much to do. Everything that has...
