my boy

I told my boy
to eat with
a fork
but he showed
me that
if you stripped
down your
green beans
with careful
hands
they would yield
up
jewels of bean seeds
that could
be offered
one to
another
on fingertips.


Beth McCarthy Marks
1995

a hawk called him to heaven

 

 

A Hawk called him to Heaven today

old Lefty is probably already planning
about how not
to take up too much space
he’s careful like that
just include him
and he’s happy
doesn’t have to be the star
as long as the meals are good
he’s happy to be a roadie
happy with any dose of affection

Life brought Lefty out of nowhere

and in his own quiet way he
stayed longer than the others
stayed through the upsets
stayed through the moves
stayed a steady, sweet, loyal pal

I miss him deeply.

The impact of his giving heart
continues its caress

How happy I am

that his send off was regal
and that the hawk announced
to the heavens
that a true prince was at the gate.

 

Beth McCarthy Marks

In honour of Lefty, wonderful Shepard crosses who adopted us and lived with us for 10+ years and was euthanized November 2007.  On Lefty’s last day, his last walk in his favourite park a hawk kept flying overhead calling out in loud screeches.  

Christopher Carter died

In Honour of Christopher James Carter

 

I didn’t know your name
until I read the paper today
and saw your young, disfigured face
staring back from the obituary page.

But, Chrisopher Carter,

you were a hero to me
in your own way
daring to endure the public alarm
when people first saw you.

 it always made me proud of you

and proud of the friends who sat
with you at your favourite
downtown coffee haunt.

And, not knowing you

nor wanting to embarrass you
I never made the chance
to let you know how you enriched my life
by simply living yours with grace
while you appeared the way you did.

But one day, passing

on the street
our eyes met and we shared a knowing smile.
and it warms me to recall
with certainty
that you felt my admiration then;
my silent welcome to converse another day, another time.

Knowing how quickly you would be gone

perhaps I should have risked
a word when you sat one day
in the sun sipping coffee
reading a magazine.

Good bye, Christopher Carter.

Your beautiful and unblemished soul
will be missed here in Vernon.

Thank you for touching my life.

 

Beth McCarthy Marks

March 4, 2011

he drifts

and so

he drifts
from my shore,
the line knotted
to the dock
has been undone.

his outline

harder to see,
his mirth
harder to feel;

and his touch

all together lost.

my harbour

experienced some high

seas

before the captain

woke up from

his dreaming

with a start

planning a speedy
return
to his familiar
berth.


Beth McCarthy Marks
2005

shattered

when your heart is broken
it is broken as much
outward as inward

because you know then

how many have felt
this
self-same pain
of wishing only to curl
up in a little ball
and retreat.

and you’ll know to go on

as they have had to go on

because your life has been

broken outward

and to heal

must receive

and to receive

must stay open


Beth McCarthy Marks
2006

"Mr. Ramsay"

Just last week he told me about the first big fish
he caught with you, from your boat
on Kootenay Lake.

About how you figured he was old enough to go
about how he got seasick
about how he laid on the shore long
enough to let the seasickness pass
so that you could catch a good picture
of the lad
with his first huge fish.

And he went out with you
again and again
in spite of the black smoke of the heater
and the smell of blackened bread from your cheese sandwiches.

To be with you
and catch fish
and be seasick
again and again
just to be with you.


Beth McCarthy Marks
2004
At the passing of Mike Ramsay's dad

a tiny wheel

And so, if the rain falls today
will the sun never more be seen?
Unlikely.

And if, in sudden fury
the snow bundles a spring day
is warmth forever lost?
I doubt it.

Or, should the ground look brown and barren
do we cry for lack of seed therein?
Of course not.

A tiny wheel within a tiny wheel within a tiny wheel.

Why then, the furrowed brow at circumstance
of strange motion?

Rest in the sunlight.
Abide in the wheel above the seasons.
Gently amused, and most kind.


Beth McCarthy Marks
1985

come away

come away
come away from all of that, my friend
it doesn't matter now
you did as you did
and perhaps it was wrong
but who's to say?
in any case
life will weave this thread
irregular or no
into its own cloak

come away
come fresh and exposed
leave that place of anguish
come away from all of that, my friend
you've things to do



Beth McCarthy Marks

As it sits

 

 

As it sits

it comes to this

you are my mate

chosen, un-chosen and chosen

beyond the ranting and ravings.

 

At the beginning and ending of

every day

beyond all that was or what might

be

there you are, my love.

 

I have been wrong

in short changing you

and you haven't helped in the details

of that.

 

Yet from first seeing you

my heart and soul were sold,

from the first,

beyond description of circumstance.

 

Above, below and beyond all frailty and foolishness

I love you.

 

Above, below and beyond all frailty and foolishness

I release you.

 

 

 

Beth McCarthy Marks

1999

 

 

Dylan

Dylan

It was difficult for them
to choose your name
but in the end
after your mom got to decide your
sister's name
your dad won out!

"Dylan!"

Like many,
yours was not a smooth sail
through life's passages.

Why?
Unknown.
Did we fail you?
Or were there too many corners, rules
and stop signs
for your time around?
We'll never know,

Dylan.

We will know only
that we miss you.
Your smile
and your wrath.
Because both meant
you were near.

Dylan,

out of view is simply,
profoundly
sad
for those who love you,
beyond description
and always.

God speed
young warrior,
God speed.


Beth McCarthy Marks
2000

For Dylan Castonguay who died in his mid-teens while 4-wheeling with a pal

Grant

 

 

 

So astute,

this warrior

of peace.

 

So terribly tender;

 

blessings of beasts

soothe you

 

uppity women

stir you.

 

And still, soul's unrest

undoes you,

(fornicating contradiction of

testiness and tenderness!)

 

Until at last

joy captures that cranky case,

your open

smiling

face

 

betrays you

once more!

 

 

 

Beth McCarthy Marks

1996

For Doc Grant Johnson at Smoke Horse Ranch

unexpected ecstasy

I sat once
in a sunlit patch of wild strawberries.
They were delicate and red and perfectly ripe,
here I was in the middle,
nibbling on the most succulent fruit
that I can remember.
Bathed in the sunshine,
intoxicated
in the utter loveliness of the moment.
So satisfying, this, to a hunger
which I never knew existed.
I sighed deeply,
and I tasted their deliciousness for a time,
but never since.
Ecstasy in a moment of life's passing.

And so, with you,
as I sit in your sunlit field
sated and content.
I marvel at this delicacy
of scent and taste
satisfying a hunger
which I never knew existed.
So succulent this fruit,
so utterly lovely this space of time,
I can but sigh.
And I taste your deliciousness for a time
with little surety of knowing this again.
Ecstasy in a moment of life's passing.

Until the season of harvest
brings me new into your field,
be well,
my sweet friend.

Beth McCarthy Marks
1990
 

rest now, wild one

rest now
wild one
you fought well
and brave


let me sponge your
open would with
comfrey balm
and comb your hair
free of twig and ash


rest now
wild one
let me wash your face
with chamomile
and knead your flesh
with scented oil


lie on the wolf skin
and let your animal eyes
close


I will watch for you
let your coiled muscle
slowly melt to soft


I will listen for you


rest now
wild one
rest


this day's battle is done
sip the drink
nourish lip and loin


rest now
brave one
restore your blood for battle




Beth McCarthy Marks
1993
dedicated to Marco Menato

river ride

as I go down
the river of my destiny
I don't want to be
in a boat.
I don't want to stay dry,
and above
or try to remain upright.
I want to fall
in the water
headfirst, naked,
fully immersed
hanging on to a life buoy of humour.

counting the occasional
bump
part of the ride.

surrendering to fury currents...
such abandon
slackens my body
reshaping me,
I know I will arrive
changed

changed and
in some peaceful, sunlit eddy
long enough to gather
once again
forces of wildness and kindness
for the next bend of my journey.

to feel the warm
and cold
torrential
and tranquil.

I am drenched
I am liquid


Beth McCarthy Marks
1992

lumpy bits

As my consciousness is rising
my flesh is falling
and I have lumpy bits
here and there.
I know this comes as no surprise to you
and I've long suspected
there might be a little cellulite
to be found on your thighs too!
Fortunately my idea of
perfection has altered considerably
and I no longer care
about those chunks too much!
Or about how capable you are or aren't
how together you are or aren't.
I just like to see you
and be seen by you.
I'm courageous enough to
be soft now
and shameless enough to
uncover myself to you
and know that if you giggle at me
my life will hardly cease!
We all have lumpy bits!
So what!
Let's frollick naked in the field anyway
with unbridled happiness
to be alive and together.



Beth McCarthy Marks
1992

desire

with wildness
I seek you
as animals follow scent
unfulfilled
until the sighting
unsatisfied
until the tasting
of flesh
your soft lip
in mine
loin warms to feel
of wrapping
plunging
soft wet tongue
searches out
all tenderness
and pink places
how could we
even talk this
day
when desire
leadens my eyes
and slackens my limbs
when wetness
spreads through me
from your naked eyes
how could we
even talk this
day


Beth McCarthy Marks
1993

anger melt

and so
it's come to this
as we knew it would,
face to face
with no one here
but you and I
and nothing to do
but breathe
and as I feel you exhale
defenseless and so porous
my heart retrieves
the broken bits
scattered by suspicion
and lines them
exposed
before you,
and I feel you
and I tell you what I've felt
barren and fecund.

in the warmth
of your person
my anger has melted
and the poignancy of my love for you
swells in my throat,
I love you
and in the end
it always comes to this
though everything changes
you remain
seeing me
I remain
seeing you.


Beth McCarthy Marks
1993

night

The light of day has faded.
At last,
sweet dusk has come;
bathing in cool and quiet
the tame and untamed places.
Tranquil time.
Deer graze the wild meadow
and drink from limpid pools.
Caution eases
as day's glare and motion
slip from view.

Peace.

Now the dark arms of night
embrace our woods.
Blessed dark has come
the night magic begins.
Nocturnal stirrings,
tender and vulnerable,
expose themselves in velvety shadow.
The lush carpet of darkness
protects.

In the depth of the night
surface thoughts and feelings
deemed foolish in the harsher light of day.
But here, in the dark
the seed is rooted.
Here, in the dark
the beginnings begin.
Here, in the dark
the wellspring of passion.


Beth McCarthy Marks
1991

sweep

The sweep comes
be broom
or be dust
but best decide
before THAT DOOR
opens.



Beth McCarthy Marks
1994

raven

Raven
you are a bastard!
Working nights
to unglue every piece of my path
patched by fearful planning.
To cut me loose,
falling
and rising over terrain
not of my choosing.
And you laugh
in the knowing that I
must
find my own wings and
fly.



Beth McCarthy Marks
1992
*  in some native cultures Ravens are considered "the trickster"

just a little space

Just the briefest of moments
please
and I will find my balance.
Just the smallest margin of space
and, I assure you,
my footing will find correct placement.
Should you push,
should you rush,
I may need to clasp
to what I know.

I may need to squeeze my
eyes shut,
in fear of abrupt landing.
Just a little space
if you will
and our movements will soon
synchronize.
In balance.



Beth McCarthy Marks
1990

all things primal

when all is said and done
and the night is quiet
and every element of amusement
has long since gone to sleep
and there is just me and the
evening's silence
I listen to the voice of my heart
reminding me
of things done and undone
of my rootedness
in all things primal




Beth McCarthy Marks
circa mid 1990's

walking my dogs

I was thinking
today
about what it is that
feeds my soul
giving rest to
my own imposed
regiment of
being
"on."

And
the first image
in my mind's eye
answering that
musing
was the back end
of two dogs
ahead of me on the trail
simply
snoofing along
gathering an
endless supply of
inhaled information
on what has happened
along this path
since we were last exploring
here.

Or
deeper delight
discovery of a place
we've never been before.

They are pals enough
to look over their shoulders
at intervals
to make sure we're still together.

The longer the trek
the deeper the joy
until the little one
starts throwing me
time
to
go home
glances
rushing the pace back to
our trusty ride and their deepest sleep.



Beth McCarthy Marks December 27, 2012