Fleshy

Fleshy
I have become a fleshy woman
There are dimples in my upper arms that used to be firm of muscle
My belly is full
I still imagine I may have a flatness in the space of rolls
I imagine it flat again one day
My action is planning
I have an idea of how to accomplish this
I cannot act on my plan

Am I unhappy in my fleshy body?
at times
Is it the body that is the source of the unhappiness?
Not really

Unless the fleshy body is the reason
I find it difficult to love
to love me
to love another

Unless the fleshy body is the reason
I don't trust
don't trust myself to make good choices
don't trust others to be honest and open

Unless the fleshy body is the reason
I am stuck
stuck in a place to which i feel no connection
stuck in a job that I only partially enjoy

Unless the fleshy body is the reason
I am losing interest
losing interest in life
losing interest in living fully

Bench

Bench

There is a bench off the sidewalk

Across the street

On the edge of an empty lot

At a nameless corner where nothing happens

No bus, no business, no traffic

Every day people stop at that bench and rest

Are they taking a break from something unseen?

Are they homeless and therefore bench-less?

Are they taking a break on sunny days?

Do they have time on the way to an appointment?
Is the bench a repository for extra time?

Is there a way which the extra time can be withdrawn?

What kind of time would be available?
Tired, walked all day time?
Slept in the bushes last night time?
Waiting for court time?

It appears to be just a bench.
Is it solace? Is it rest?
Is it privilege?
Is it a keeper of time?

electricity

a faint electricity travels around inside me

it starts in the middle of my chest and radiates out

bouncing back when reaching the end of my toes

shooting out my fingertips

the real world grounding me with every light touch

the electricity is created in the heart world

it is a by-product of love

the tittering, twittering first blush of romance

when the word love can not sit on nor flit from the lips

it is the alarm clock of your inner self

it wakes you, as it reminds you of how much you can feel

howler monkey haiku

Howler monkeys in the trees

Booming, hoarse warnings

I feel my heart beat harder

One

Single

Singular

Oneness

Solo

Solitary

Wholeness

sandhill cranes startled into flight

clear blue overhead

outline of wings against sky

nervous souls cry out

Like the sticks and the stones

that are tossed by the sea

Our own edges are

smoothed as we

tumble through life

02.11.01