by Heidi Fischbach | Mar 14, 2014 | Minding my life, Poetry, Translations
Last week, while binge watching the last season of Breaking Bad, I heard a song I’d never heard that made my heart skip a beat and then pick up again more insistently. The music choices in Breaking Bad don’t disappoint. First of all, rather than using... by Heidi Fischbach | Aug 18, 2012 | Essays, Poetry
Sometimes poems wait for you. It’s like a poem has run up ahead to get the lay of the land and then waits for you to catch up. That’s how you can get a poem way before you get a poem, way before being able to put into words the why or the how of it. But somehow your... by Heidi Fischbach | Sep 9, 2009 | Minding my life, Poetry
The paring knife of life keeps peeling. In restlessness, in exasperation, on the edge of falling, I keep coming to: What is essential here? It is a question both clean and powerful. It moves around the immovable, leaving bullshit in its wake. Sitting in that question... by Heidi Fischbach | Oct 8, 2008 | Crushes, Poetry
It’s not for not having people who love me. Not at all. And it’s not for not loving people, including a number whose side I would pick up and fly around the world to be at in a moment’s notice if ever they said the word. There’s even a dear I have no doubt would... by Heidi Fischbach | Aug 13, 2008 | Musing out loud, Poetry
Who is the clambering animal in me and what does she clamber for? What dreams rest on my Rocky Mountain peaks? What wants lie wedged in the crags of my Sierras? What animal warbles in the underbrush of my Chattanoogas? Like “The Guesthouse” by Rumi, Carl Sandburg’s... by Heidi Fischbach | Feb 10, 2007 | Poetry
My friend, Pierre, wrote this poem for me on my birthday. I love it. (by P.C. Billon)Shifting your weight, you’ve made your feet at home In the soft, white sand.You stop, for a moment And let the world continue on its way. The clouds inch their way inland, And dusk is...
