Tag Archives: Humanity

We Affect Each Other

 

We affect each other

push and pull on each other’s emotions

if we drown we drag people down with us

if we fly others draft in our wake.

 

vent your frustrations into somebody’s ear

watch their smile disappear

or

laugh until they can’t help laughing too

love until they are loving you

 

It gets bigger.

Sometimes you are part of something beyond yourself

sometimes you are angry for no reason

and the people on the street match your mood

sometimes you overhear conversations

or see a trend on social media

which inexplicably echo your private feelings.

 

Is it the moon?

Herd instinct?

Illusion?

 

When I didn’t have feelings

I watched it happen

distantly curious.

Now that I’ve found my heart

I am swayed with the populace

flowing where they flow.

Ardently curious

and still no answer.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


 

 

 

Adaptability

 

Humans are flexible.

We meet the shape of our confines.

We grow to fit

We stretch

We shrink

We can adapt to any situation.

We live in prison.

We live in snow.

We even breathe underwater now.

 

I often dream I can breathe underwater.

That I figured out how.

Just breathe slowly

That’s all there is to it

Just breathing

Slowly

Is key.

 

Maybe

If we just breathe slowly

We can survive anywhere.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


 

 

 

Your hand

 

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?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


 

 

 

People

How can anyone hate people?

I love people.

People with their different shaped hands and feet

Their little eccentricities and foibles.

They get angry and puff around.

They laugh.

They obsess over their animals.

They hate their flaws.

They idolize others.

They’re absolutely undeniable thoroughly insane

Using complex language to express complex ideas

Their minds are inexplicably networked tunnels of lightless caves filled with with god knows what.

Just like children or pets

You get what you expect from them.

They are gorgeous

Every one of them

Fascinating, funny, tragic.

They have a lot of pride

They all want to take care of each other

And they drive each other nuts in their efforts to do so.

On Immortality

Who do you think you are?

There is no immortality.

Immortality is impossible.

Everything dies.

Writers who claim to immortality by their body of work?

Two generations tops.

But what if you’re a great writer?

Your work could last hundreds of years.

If you are truly great, a thousand years.

The culling process of time is cruel and relentless.

What about Plato, the Bhagavad Gita, the Tao Te Ching?

They have lasted millennia.

But nothing can be saved forever.

One day the library will burn.

There were great works, immortal works, before these were written.

Mankind has long existed

And long has it thought

And of these thoughts

We know nothing.

They are dead.

But

The ideas renew in us.

Stories are reinvented, retold

Concepts are worked out anew

The same mistakes get made

Over

And over

It is a parent’s pain

To watch a child stumble through life

It is our pain

That each generation must live a war

It is a country’s pain

To bloat, to weaken, to topple

It is a people’s pain

To forget.

In the end the sun will burn us out.

After that the universe will collapse.

And some say

A new universe will be born

And the same mistakes made over again.

 

We will all be forgotten.

We all only have one life.

We can’t even impress who we really are

On our closest friends.

An identity is transient

It changes with each emotion.

How then can a life be remembered?

How can a great work of art

No matter how perfect

No matter how true

No matter how it affects the people

Each person will read into it

What matches their feelings at the time.

One may read the same book

Two, three different times

And feel something different each time.

Nobody knows exactly what you felt when you wrote it.

No one can ever know.

You don’t even know.

Every new thought, your old thought dies.

Every new cell, your old cells die.

You want immortality?

You with the ever changeable identity

Which you deem so important?

You, who are already dead?