Thursday, February 9, 2017

The in between

Some days the gravity is too strong
so I summoned the Eternal by looking at a picture of a bird in flight because a real bird wasn’t in my living room
and then afraid I was about to escape my mind I made hard-boiled eggs and ate one while it was still warm and soft and the scent of bird was there which made me sad that I was eating a bird
so I put that out of my mind and sat down with a hard-bound book and let the weight of it sit in my palms and brushed the cover with my thumbs to feel the hardness and when I opened the book and began to read 
the pages released my mind and it was gone after all
Some days the gravity isn’t strong enough

Monday, February 6, 2017

The erasure was forgotten

The erasure was forgotten
like a slow train
coast to coast
through trees and hills and blasted rock
forgets its ties
that fade into a single, distant point
around a bend
in time
when thought was free
inside your skull
you steel yourself
those arresting thoughts
to rail against
the police of thought

A prompt from

Sunday, February 5, 2017

In this plain state

Sepia-toned Sunday
I move slowly through the house
Socks shuffling on smooth wood planks
Pausing at the kitchen sink to reflect
On this tiny backyard and its plainness
In this plain town in this plain state
Of affairs
I’ve had with other places this romance
Of what could be, of what I could be
When I was younger
It wasn’t a what-if fantasy that lasted more than a minute
Because I was up and gone
And now I move slowly
Through my body and through my mind
If only to show my heart that it’s ok
To move slowly
Through this romance with the world
As it could be
And the more slowly I move the more I see
The world as it is
And somewhere in the slowness of time
The what-if fantasy is beautiful in its dream-like state
Of affairs
I’ve had this idea that something bigger is happening 
Somewhere else
I was up and gone
And now the world seems smaller
As I shuffle in my socks 
In this plain house, in this plain town
In this plain state
I’m in

Sunday, January 29, 2017

We The Tree

I feel like everything can be likened to a tree
The trunk
The branches
The leaves
The system of it all

Do the branches really only stretch as far as the roots allow

Does the trunk forever build its protective layers

Do the leaves turn to face the winds

I just realized I don’t really know how a tree works

The knowing when to die
And when to be reborn

Wednesday, January 25, 2017

Be hungry, be strong.

There are times like now when I feel the sameness flowing through us
And our differences are like those times when we are trying to decide
what to have for dinner but nothing sounds good and nothing sounds bad
It’s almost like we could eat anything or nothing and be perfectly content
And we meander through the grocery store saying to ourselves
yeah I could eat that but is it worth it, nah
I just don’t want it bad enough.
I feel like I could walk these aisles all night.

Love will come again

Driving in rural Midwest Winter
Between snowfalls
The skies gray and trees bare
Abandoned nests
Appear unexpectedly
Trees bare abandoned nests unexpectedly
Abandoned nests suspended at the ends of thin branches
The tree is a body
The branches ribs
The unexpected nests, empty
It's hard to imagine Spring
It's hard to imagine the nests among the leaves
It's hard to imagine the nests 

Sunday, January 22, 2017

Because I couldn't march

I think some women realize that something isn’t right with the world. 
I think some women realize that we’ve made progress.
I think some women never knew otherwise.
I think some women feel all of these things and become confused.
I think some women feel all of these things and become angry.
I think some women feel all of these things and become enlightened.
I dress up in suits and meet with gentlemen CEOs and CFOs and all those titles
that command respect for their position and their ability to inspire fear in those below
And sometimes I feel like they view me as an equal
And I become positive and hopeful and it allows me to focus on bigger things like how to make the world a better place with my efforts and abilities
And then I see how they look below my eyes to that place that reminds me I am not equal
I am something less than
I am an object
I am something not to be taken seriously
Or they call me honey
Or they say something that implies I must seek approval of my male counterpart 
To justify my existence
I must justify my existence
They must justify my existence
And the good people of the world think I must be crazy to think and say these things
To bring light to these things that are said
To bring light to these things that do happen
Because surely in our just version of this world these things are not happening
These things are of the stone ages
These things are exaggerations
And I feel shame
And I feel sadness
And I feel impotence
And I feel apathy
From others and from myself
But mostly from myself
And that feeds my shame
And it feeds my anger
And it feeds my hatred
And it makes me think of them as objects
And it makes me one of them
And it makes me no better than them.
Despite all of this
I am hopeful.
These backward things drift away with the ages.
The sadness I feel is that I will drift away along with it.
I will not be around to see how young men grow into decent men
who look women in their eyes.
Who look women in their eyes.
Who look women in their eyes.