Bones
Ravens peck at my fingers
alabaster bones peek through
like trees rooted in my palm
devoured flesh feeds hungry flock
Ravens peck at my fingers
no longer pointing at empty heart
my yearning for you bleeds out
begging lend me fingers once more
Ravens peck at my fingers
unfilled spaces where you used to be
I wish your fingers filled the void
of the person I was meant to be
Ravens peck at my fingers
no longer able to touch your stars
unfurled and flapping aimlessly
adrift, unable to fill missing gap
Ravens peck at my fingers
searching for missing pulse
you’re imprinted forever on fingers
images floating in my mind
Ravens peck at my fingers
shoveled into maw of yawning earth
weight of a casket in my damp rest
fingers not required in final repose.
Bound to the knees
I bowed to you
opened wide
and born the pain
of earth
I swallowed by saliva
and pressed my knees into the ground
and toke my position at feet of temple
I wrinkled you in the aging of years
of perfecting the art of obedience
knees I suffer
scabs and blood
for the wars
I let rage
inside
your
canal
of holy water
your amniotic
sac
of hope
that the embryo
of mother nature
would sprout
legs and arms
and become the next leaders of hope
knees
that carried late night sins
that left an imprint on satin night skys
of leftover love
knees
like elbows
bowing
down
in
the
dirt
they
were
planted
in
to
grow
in
the
sunshine
of
hell
knees
dipped
in
the
river
jourdan
to
heal
me
of
my
sins
knees
that
woed
the misery of the devil
that
drags
them
to window
sill
and
bounds
their
hands
in
the
confession
of
Amen
that whitewashes
the
stained sheets
of purified sin
the blood fades
The Histories
The hollow at the base of the throat
- the supersternal notch -
is just large enough to hold
the tip of a finger,
nestled like a bird's egg
in a nest.
It is here that the old physicians
used to check the pulse,
laying one finger
gently
where the body meets the neck
at the root of the throat
where words climb
upward to be heard,
to feel against their own delicate skin
the low thrum
of the internal sea.
Waves at low tide crawl up a beach
and the sound is like a mother
shushing a baby to sleep,
or a womb.
Clairvoyance
It's been said the eyes are
the windows to the Soul
I can tell you that's not true
because I can see better than you
and I'm blind as a bat, ain't no lie.
Look into your soul I can
I see many traits over your lifespan
Life happens while you wait
So why do you hesitate
If you love someone tell them now
Tomorrow my be too late somehow
We are here in the now
Not guaranteed the next moment anyhow
Your destiny is your own if you make it
Otherwise someone else will take it
Be the strong warrior you were born to be
The ancestors revealed and want you to see.
Manus Sensuales
Holding
Molding
They do it all
Teasing
Squeezing
How they enthrall
Tweaking
Speaking
Not just for the eye
Waving
Shaving
They cannot lie
Rolling
Cajoling
They can bring pleasure
Assessing
Caressing
Moments to treasure
Soothing
Smoothing
They can make you moan
Slick
Flick
For that happy groan
Steal
Feel
They might direct bands
Slap
Clap
Give thanks for those hands!
we always forget these.
1
crawling everywhere
unblemished
chubby
malleable
5
scraping raw on the pavement
grass stained
scabbed
grubby
17
reluctantly performing fellatio
numb
bruised
sweaty
21
proposing to A Person (naively)
shaking
weakened
springy
37
begging A Person to stay
uncomfortable
throbbing
clammy
52
negotiating with Death (for a little more time with A person)
numb
trembling
swollen
79
praying to Someone Out There
leathery
fragile
wrinkled
... knees.
Hello, Leg!
Hello, leg!
How do you do?
I see you there dangling below
Attached to your base,
In lieu of a face
A family of various toes
You serve a great purpose,
Most noble indeed
By propping me up with your brother
And when the day ends
And exhaustion sets in
You work your way out from the covers
Walking through rooms
You can easily bruise
When you find the sharp ends of a table
This doesn't exhaust you
Or permanently haunt you
You're resilient and endlessly able