Men

Turn men’s hand

when he reaches out

to violate

back toward his own heart,

toward his own soft throat,

the delicate inside skin of his wrist

so he can feel

for himself

the soft, singing jiggle,

the whisper inner

the full

that he feels so

removed from.

 

If he can’t feel?  What then?

Turn him toward what then?

Ocean Emotion

Sobbing onto shore

heaving and crashing against the ever moving, shifting

changing sands.

A wet wave.

The whistle and scream of it in the bright air as

it curls in upon itself

and then

against wet sand

moving up onto the dry sand

a colossal unburdening

leaving whispers

and holes exhaling air.

Swales

Even this bottomless place is beautiful.

A swale of tears.

 

While I was in the shower

warmth

brought up sadness through my pores.

 

I am full up with grief over what got destroyed; whose buildings changed

so completely.

 

In the water

In the warmth

Sadness has its rightful place.  It belongs.

 

Steps to harmonious beauty are ugly and discordant.  So which is which?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Getting Hit On.

Getting hit on.

Pick up lines.

They do sound violent.

Most pick up lines do end up sounding like something a big scary person would say to another person before knocking them out  cold and carrying off their unconscious body to a place:

“Come here often”?

“Are you from Tennessee?  Cuz you’re the only ten I see”.

“Wanna be a star”?

They should be called pick up-and-carry lines.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Tree

There are no words to describe how hard life is.  Even for those who have it fairly easy.  To be like a tree is now my highest aspiration.  Rooted in my body, no matter what.  Present in the moment, no matter what.  There is a strange comfort in the containment and the accepting.

Forgiveness is an act of Isolation

Humans are gregarious.

To forgive means to be alone with whatever happened.

Rage through the roof.  When I forgive you, it is me and bright white, red rage.  No more you to bash my powerless rage against.

Despair seeping up through the floorboards.  Only me to breath in the mold that may have started growing.

To forgive is divine because it means to be alone.  To work through the feelings.  The carnage.

Perdonare: To give completely; without reservation.  To allow.

I can barely handle that when it comes to birthday gifts. Let alone a lifetime of inner-emotional world environment.

I wonder if forgiving means I won’t ever feel hurt by it again.  I doubt that.  But maybe.  Maybe I gained understanding.

In my experience, understanding is the only phenomenon strong and flexible enough to get underneath and between the Why.

Forgiveness means solitude but it does not mean silence.  The ones who have been hurt speak words that everyone else desperately needs.  That must be forgiveness too.

The Real Thin Ice

At first the ice is thin.

And that is good.

Everything can still get through.

And the water underneath

still shocks and gasps you.

You still feel the real reason for your terror.  For your sadness and your shame.

It is good when the ice is thin.  Although the water hurts.

It is when the ice becomes thick

and no thing can break through anymore

It is when the ice is thick

and the drops skitter across the surface away and away from you

that is when it is dangerous.

When the water underneath

can no longer be felt

when there is no more shock and gasp at the pain

when the ice has become so thick that an endless avalanche

of made up reasons for the why and what and wherefore

become the focus

because the water underneath can no longer even be detected

that is when the real danger begins.

When the ice has thickened into numbness

and everything else must do; must be it

because no one can believe the coldness of the water anymore

and no one breaks through the ice anymore

to fall into the shock and gasp of the cold, brutal water

when the ice has thickened

so that the glare of it makes it look like your enemies are outside of your home

rather than inside

that is when the real danger, the real hatred begins.

Climate

Of all the worst miseries a depression can give

The grieving process denied

is the worst of the hells.

Can’t even talk.

 

 

To breathe into the body

and feel.

 

 

Grief likes to shudder its way through a body.

Grief likes to shudder its way through a life.

 

The ripples change everything.

Identity.  Focus.  Feeling.  Ability.  Senses.

 

 

 

If the ripples reverberate

reverberation.

If the ripples are stopped

climate change.