I wish we could fix people.
I wish wishes could fix people
And support
And kindness
And presents
And hugs.
I wish we could say the perfect thing.
I wish we could help
Really help.
But often the best we can do
Is stand by their sides
Support
Be kind
Give presents
Hug
Try to say the right things
Help
And watch them
Fall apart
Anyway.
Electronic waterfall.
Zen you can buy.
Tiny.
Tinkling of elf bells.
Chinese water torture.
Tickling trickling.
Unwavering, relentless.
Uncomfortable.
Wetly cold.
Miniaturized peace.
Better than nothing.
Inconstant creek
Sun warmed
Life leaves ripples in the sound.
The water cavitates
Deeper bubbles.
Little granite cave
Darker tone.
Weighty cascade
Runs over boulders
As it pleases or not at all.
Alive.
your hand
fragile
replete with vitality
laced with veins and arteries
padded with springy muscle
elegant bones the support trusses
you own this hand
it will fold whichever way you dream
each digit an extension of your unconscious
this hand can beckon, halt, support, negate
lose balance and it steadies you
cry and it wipes your tears away
All you artists,
let your hands give something form
and watch them express
what you never knew was in you.
All you workers,
allow the tasks to fall into place
marvel at what
your hands have wrought.
All you parents
brush hair, wash faces
prepare dinner
caress the infant
whose first unconscious expression of love
is the grasping of your fingers
in his warm little hand.
We are alive
how wondrous we are
with such capacities.
we wreck, we pet.
We let our hands lead us
these finite tools
a hand’s breadth
a finger’s length
flushed with redness, with vigor
Are we really
made of such things?
Are we really made by them?
Definitely on a silly streak lately. Not one thing I wrote last night made much sense.
The weather affects us all.
Soon the harvest moon will turn
And I will turn with it.
Life is complicated.
I change from dog to girl
And back
But my food choices do not change inside me
And something deep within is alarming.
When I was changed
I ate something a human shouldn’t eat.
My body is a mystery
My dog body doubly so.
Today I’m putting hot sauce on all the turds in the yard.
My human self must train my dog self.
I sit in the yard
Collar around my neck
Waiting for transformation
And thanking God for privacy fences.
Hands
Spreading tree, fractaling humanity
Tips of tips trace gently, massage, explore, withhold
Neck
Miracle of engineering, steel support cables, connection to the senses
Here taste the vibrations of your voice
Eyes
Soft raw secrets
All is bared, reflected
Languid skin, humid aura, belly to belly we share everything
You are everywhere so smooth
Except where you are not.
Muscles
Contract
Arch, tense,
To the breaking point,
Pushing beyond human limits, torture,
Flashes of colors and geometric shapes torture torture,
We are nothing. We are the cosmos
Then
The massive overspill
Pressure eases
Breath returns
Vision lightens
And
You.
You.
You.
