c o n v e r g e n c e:
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EDITOR'S CHOICE: rain ananael's


Eve West Bessier


Touching Ground
by Eve West Bessier

Iíll begin here,
at the root
of the problem

defining myself

with external cloth,
cultural weavings,
convenient uniforms
of conformity.

Iím old enough to see
the warp,
the subtle proof
of selling out
to textures of fear
and insecurity.

Iím old enough to see
the coming of thunder,
rumbling in my bones,
of shedding everything
Iíve known and owned.

I see myself crossing
river stones over the cold
current of old habit.
Finding balance only in speed.
Donít think óJust do it!

I see myself running bare
souled into the woods
that have always spoken
at the edge of my self
control óthe deep, lush
forest of whatís left unbroken.

I see myself óa she bear running,
my lungs pumping
instinctual air; yelling, growling,
hooting, howling, prowling the who
of what I am, the why, the where.

And in the middle of that fertile
sound, my feral heart will rest,
will nest, will finally touch ground.





Power Money
by Eve West Bessier

Power money is a muddied green,
oozing through the electronic screen,
rarely seen, always leaning,
pumping the consumer machine.

Power money is caviar on the tongue,
salt of greed, speed, seed of desire.

Power money is Wall Street noise,
the breathing of boys in labor,
spawning more, spewing war,
gun whore, environmental open sore.

Power money is high tech tease,
social disease, fees, the legalese
of fragmentation and decay,
chemical charisma and the corporate lay.

Power money is grown by the underfed,
bread-less, said-less flunkies;
consumed by the overfed,
Journal-read, highly-ed, Fed-Ex junkies.

Power money makes
heart fickle
soul brittle
mind cold
eyes sold
words hollow
wisdom callow

and
everyone
lust.

Wait.

Whose illusions feed
this shallow trust
fund?





The Fall of Courtly Love
by Eve West Bessier

How I have wooed and misconstrued you,
like a knight his distant Lady, or a troubadour
at the curtained window of your heart.

How I have bowed to the time worn
epic of romance, a disfigurement
of love so ancient as to be mythical.

How I have pined for the ungraspable
ideal, a gilded and seductive lure, hooked
on the long line of a patriarchal psychology.

There is no cure for such adolescent longing,
devoid of genuine, earthy, sticky, myth-shaking,
love-making, risk-taking, implacable ardor.

Except to wake up, shake off the creed
of round tables and en-towered damsels
and face the raw beauty of flesh and bone.

In the relational world of flood and quake,
storm and wake, we are free to be real and whole,
with neither shame nor grandiosity to hide

our tenderness.





Eve West Bessier

Eve West Bessier holds a Bachelor of Arts in English from San Francisco State University. She also holds a Master of Education from The University of California, Davis, where she worked as a researcher in educational program development and evaluation for eighteen years. She is currently an Area Coordinator and teacher with California Poets in the Schools, a jazz vocalist, vocal coach and certified life coach. Her publications include: The North American Revie, Kalliope, Lyric, Manzanita, Seeker, The Sacramento Anthology: One Hundred Poems, and Heart Flip. She has two chapbooks, Roots Music and Splash published by dPress, and she is currently seeking publication for her full-length collection of jazz inspired poetry, Mood Swing. She received the 2000 Kathryn Hohlwein Award, took First Place for Poetry in the 2000 California Focus on Writers Contest, and received Second Place in the Jack Kerouac Poetry Contest in 2008. One of her jazz poems, "Zoo You, Boogaloo," was nominated for a Pushcart Prize in 2003.





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