Friday, March 21, 2014

Fray Project-Guerilla Poetry for the Planet

 FRAY-Santa Fe, New Mexico

FRAY, a community dialogue and guerrilla poetry installation,  uses the metaphor of “fray” to evoke the strain we feel as individuals and communities living deeply within an economic system that is fraught with painful realities and contradictions that we must internalize in order to survive.

On Sunday March 16, 2014,  9 women artists and writers came together at the
Leonora Curtain Wetlands in La Cienega, NM for a workshop.

Inspired by the beauty of the place we were to create poems
that we would copy onto small fragments of parchment paper
(meant to evoke fragility and impermanence).

On April 15th or before we are to distribute our poems in
public places around Santa Fe.  Send them out into the world.
These are little guerilla love offerings.

The poems would be photographed where they were placed (on car
windows, shop windows, public parks, taped to park benches, etc.)

There will be a reading of poems at Op-Cit Books, April 15th 5:30-6:30 pm

For more information about the Fray project go to:

Thank you to Kirsten Mundt and Stella Reed

Working on pieces of artwork to add poems to.
My Poems
 Lorraine E. Leslie © 2014
 We moved in circles
The cold wind filling our lungs
I took in your breath.
Lorraine E. Leslie © 2014
You could never imagine...
the death of old worlds
bring about new stars... 
the world is collapsing
from its ashes
a new one will emerge...
Lorraine E. Leslie © 2014
parched earth under her feet
wearing a coat of SHADOWS
she is so thirsty
Lorraine E. Leslie © 2014
your soul flew to the world that is invisible
leaving your wings behind 
Lorraine E. Leslie © 2014
live simply...
let your soul be as free
as feathers
in the wind

Lorraine E. Leslie © 2014

place your hand on this print.
i was here too
if only for a short while
i do not know you
and i might not ever get to know you
my friend
 i love you

Lorraine E. Leslie © 2014

look through the burnt hole
set a fire to your mind
what do you see there?
Lorraine E. Leslie © 2014

We are too busy
staring into digital screens
instead of looking into
each others

Lorraine E. Leslie © 2014

The wetlands we visited showed no signs of water,
except for the gourds that I picked up.
Round yellow spheres,
like the bright winter sun that hung above the horizon.

 Tiny fragile microcosms filled with stringy fibers and seeds,
floating on the dry grass.

 The sides of the gourds that kissed the ground,
were damp, soft and yielding
when I gently pressed their shells.

 You told me stories about grey manatees,
and I dreamed of water
in that place of barren beauty.

 Empty, dry, desiccated, and brittle,
where everything crunched as we walked.

I could hear myself think,
I was outside of the fray.