http://slow.writerscafe.org/MiriamMB The original writings of author MiriamMB en-us Copyright 2026 WritersCafe.org 1776038608 WritersCafe.org RSS Generator 15 The world has gone coldfrom the frigid wind blowingfrom the West.some of us will wander aimlesslyas a result.the cold will shake cracks intoour bones and we will die here among the frost.We will only know warmth in our last moments,through the deja vu coursing redin o.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/MiriamMB/1234233/ There's a black crow in my throatcawing omenshe's saying there's troublein my fledgling rootshe wants me to open my eyeswhen I do, the flowers that line my spineare tight with bloodI've been rooting in a boneyard. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/MiriamMB/1233924/ So what if your name nevercenters the orbit of a love song?So what, if it never pours like honey from a boy'sheavy tongue?Your mother didn't grace youthe name of your fore-mothersto hear it bent in the mouths of hungry, foreign things.Keep it close.Bury it in the garden of you.The man who wants.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/MiriamMB/1213124/ a poem about my grandmother, and farming, food and love. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/MiriamMB/1202731/ This can't be all bonesall this warm brown skin,light dancing on its softnessthis fleshy heart thumping awaybeneath breasts,drumming so louddeath stops and staggers backall this warm river watercoursing through those veinsgreen vines springing forthfrom scalp,fish s.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/MiriamMB/1197600/ Give me one day with you and I'll show you everything.I'll cook for you.You'll know that mystews are too salty andmy soups are without flavor.My fufu has deep white knots becauseI'm not strong enough whip it smooth.I eat my mangoes like a starving child,chewing skin.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/MiriamMB/1196589/ we built an ulcer where your stomach was,Whatever we taste and tarnishwhat we imprint with the tips of ourfingerswhat our eyes soil with our gazewe wash clean with silence,because silence is potent enough tobleachbones whiter,washes away all want or straining.Your body loses .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/MiriamMB/1196587/ I prefer communicatingthrough the language of the bodyof hands, hips, wet tongues slowly unlearningthe weighty, twisted vowels of man.The words our bodies speak to eachother,in the dark quiet or in daylight,standing or lying down,clothed or unclothed,are the truest words th.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/MiriamMB/1195554/ Fear of being seen and rejected. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/MiriamMB/1195518/ Tried to capture the weird weather between January and June in Colorado http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/MiriamMB/1187567/ the human body is not a house wellthe water is often poisonedor harboring a great,dead thingat the bottom.Don't build your home next to it.If you must drink,Smell the water for rotsip lightly, taste for bitterness,thank the giver kindly.journey on. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/MiriamMB/1186406/ sometimes I want to meet someone I admire and have communication be smooth, and have them not mind my shyness. I want to share stories with people. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/MiriamMB/1180949/ But my body, the old woman in me, is tired of wandering,she carries herself like a stunted,misplaced, gnarled tulip tree,she mumbles daily of water,black soil,and a hunger for unchanging spaces,she wants to find a warm place at the edge of an ancient and knowingriver,to sooth.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/MiriamMB/1179046/ He had a thirst for warm water and rainshe was hungry for black soil and redclayso they met at the mouth of the river, under the forest canopy,on a cloudy day. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/MiriamMB/1179044/ I sometimes wonder what kind of life I could start in this country, and if I have a child, will we be able to understand each other? http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/MiriamMB/1178272/ it helps to think of my body as a warm fertile place where lots of greenery thrive. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/MiriamMB/1177652/ He is a death starhe shrinks to lure life closerhe watches, patiently as dust gathersinto jagged spheres andplanets spring, birthing oceans,mountains,but his hunger is too great and when the planets are lush andgreen.he blooms hissickening, radiating way,swallows them all wit.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/MiriamMB/1176923/ I amthe bonsaisticking stupidly out of a hill of dryburning, desert sand,waiting for the rains to come,the rains won't come,but you should see my roseswhen my head splinters and splitscrimson,you can see my fire from miles away. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/MiriamMB/1174059/ My heart has grown little feet,she likes to stray and never settles,always packed and readyto leave when the wind shifts,“I'll go wherever it goes” shesays.she loves the road, she wants to drive someplace newwith her stories stuffed in a 1987 Subaruhatchback,she wan.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/MiriamMB/1171126/ That girl is a wraithDo not speak to her. Do not touch her. Do not feed her a single sweet morsel.Her hunger is unfathomably wideI've seen it swallow kilometers ofgreen pastures, miles long herds of cattle.She'll moan terribly about her parchedthroatand her hundred year old.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/MiriamMB/1168916/ Her loneliness is a hundred year oldfamine,there's a drought on her tongue,her lips can only offer mouthfulsof dead roots and dust,her love is a field of dry oats.she's a dust storm in latespring.don't plant in her garden,nothing grows where she sleeps. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/MiriamMB/1168573/ Might as well have been FujiwaraChiyoko,chasing the shadow of a dead soldieracross the Japan in mid winter,in war,between earthquakes,My dear, love sick girl,there is no warm hearth at the end ofthe road.No face you'd recognizenot even your own,only shadows,only mist and mayb.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/MiriamMB/1168032/ With our perforated hearts,and our plum sized lungs,there is no peaceat the end of our journey,We can't strain the hunger out of us,we know that love is not inherentlykind nor does it need to be generouswhen there is so little time to spare.we are parasites, leechessometimes, a.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/MiriamMB/1165716/ She appeared after the sun's quietdecay,a white bird with fireon her expansive wings,two small stars in her eyes,embers fell each time shebeat her wings against the wind,she became the sky we once knewshe began singing strange, empyrealsongs,and we,so desperate and afraid of wh.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/MiriamMB/1165044/ Do not say my name too often,Do not wear my name on your tongue,because it will stay there,and you will never know anything sweeter,but it weighs too much for a thin mouthand pretty teeth,it will cause rips in your cheekand cracks in your jaws.you will never speak again.it's sweetness w.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/MiriamMB/1164630/ Theboy in my bedcrackedand split my heartopenover his knee,nowhe swears it wasn't himheswears it was someoneelseliving in himandthat fiendwasdriven outwithpitchforks and stonesathis heels.hebought me a new heartmadeof mother of pe.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/MiriamMB/1158522/ storms, resilience http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/MiriamMB/1156815/ I miss fireflies. In Ghana there were plenty. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/MiriamMB/1155127/ The harvest arrived but this year, all the mangoeshad dropped in rotten brown lumpson the ground beneath the treethe flies feasted on the rotin thick black cloudsand the hum could be heard for milesaround.the roots of the hundred year old mangotreeshriveled, it's body came tumb.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/MiriamMB/1154186/ every so oftenI bite off more than I can chew,I prefer something hard,serrated,metal, rusted, andI savor the wayit splits the skinopenon it's way downto my stomach,occasionally,I touch the scars on my neckas if to say;“look, I’m not stagnant,I'.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/MiriamMB/1150836/ The thirst is strong in this one.... http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/MiriamMB/1149921/ the problem of finding happiness in hostile territory http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/MiriamMB/1148967/ thinking good thoughts about the future. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/MiriamMB/1148172/ as summer draws closer, I feel compelled to start serenading it's arrival lol http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/MiriamMB/1145685/ A wanderlust ridden heart tethered to an ill-fitted life http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/MiriamMB/1145040/ combating long term and unyielding depression http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/MiriamMB/1144146/ Trying to shake off something dark, alive and digging deeper http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/MiriamMB/1142315/ Something lighthearted http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/MiriamMB/1138514/ covet http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/MiriamMB/1136517/ using words as comfort. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/MiriamMB/1133027/ I like people who have lived much longer, heavier lives than me http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/MiriamMB/1132664/ people who have a way with words http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/MiriamMB/1126883/ The act of digging for self and truth within myself, and fearing there is nothing of substance there. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/MiriamMB/1114466/ You think I don't know how to make the seadance for metossing the frothy hem of her skirts high up into the sky?I've seen her dance and I know the partsof the atumpan that makes her toss her skirtsthe highestI know how to eat the moonto preserve the lightwhen gray skies move in,how to wear the stars.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/MiriamMB/1113279/ Unwanted attraction to another person http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/MiriamMB/1112339/ A return to familiar things http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/MiriamMB/1081965/ when you've lost your way. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/MiriamMB/1081944/ when an old love returns and your brain is resisting but your body is saying yes yes yes over and over again. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/MiriamMB/1070359/ The fun of love, minus the heartbreak that comes with commitment too soon given and too quickly renounced. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/MiriamMB/1061488/ a poem about hunger, loss and new love http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/MiriamMB/1058470/