a ritual to start the work week
Cold metal hooked under our knees,
limits on our vision fall with our shirts
over our heads, showing off our soft
bellies to our bullies, busy with touch,
tagging and tackling. The cracked third-eye
that hangs from my neck drops into place,
refracting our broken world whole again,
only when this wood floor crowns me
and my bare feet dangle in the sky.
love notes
a ritual to start the work week
Care goes as care comes — the energy of
empathy flows while halting repression
stutters unstopped. Care interrupts only
with care — to reverse it or remake it,
we need first to know it needs it. Oh we,
oh why, oh wither, oh fly! Find patience
enough to eye and finger the present
as it’s bestowed. Be it bedazzled or
bedraggled, best to know before it’s stowed,
let alone repacked, rewrapped and resown.
love notes
a ritual to start the work week
A house turned upside-down
in the morning makes it
easy to forget the earth
lies still below, the air
soars above, equally
eager to be grown into.
love notes
a ritual to start the work week
ghosts in the stairwells;
ghosts in the dance halls;
ghosts in the aisles; repeat
ghosts on the highways;
ghosts on the sidewalks;
ghosts in the trees; repeat, repeat
ghosts in the textbook;
ghosts at the statehouse;
ghosts in the sightglass; repeat
ghosts hear our questions;
ghosts know the answers;
ghosts keep their peace; repeat, repeat
love notes
a ritual to start the work week
If you miss the beginning,
give the middle a shot.
And if the middle eludes you,
give the end the best you’ve got.
And when the inevitable happens
and the end also passes you by,
don’t let the losses delay you:
give the next beginning a try.
love notes
a ritual to start the work week
Eleven doves line the streetlight,
awaiting some peace to announce.
A barren tree holds a flock
of roosting vultures, restless
above the hospital before
some feast, as a hawk perches
nearby, its mate swooping
for a closer look.
love notes
a ritual to start the work week
Still — sole-to-sole,
tip-to-tip to
feel floor below,
wall behind — held.
Still dizzied by
our hurtling,
orbit and spin,
gut-sick, weightless.
Still within heats
and purifies
into essence.
Held, hurled and honed.
love notes
a ritual to start the work week
Shoulds fizzle under my skull,
someone else’s wretched designs
caught within. What want, I wonder,
do they reveal? What desire
quivers to be noticed?
love notes
a ritual to start the work week
No end in sight, only more
choice, piling up like alarm
blares at sunrise. Yellow leaps
off the horizon, nice things
just out of reach. For worry
keeps us homebound,
protecting some precious
unknown from becoming ours.
love notes
a ritual to start the work week
Sirens cry in the streets (choose joy)
Bad news breaks in our hands (choose joy)
Bitterness spills from our cups (choose joy)
Smoke rises from the land (choose joy)
Wealth compounds out of reach (choose joy)
Power bends us in half (choose joy)
Hunger tugs at our guts (choose joy)
Fear eats on our laps (choose joy)
… (choose joy) … (choose joy) … (choose joy) … (choose joy) …
love notes
a ritual to start the work week
We see each other peeking
between clenched teeth,
white-knuckled brains straining
to spin and climb, gain
the slightest sliver to light
a path away from our pain.
So why not glow — burn
ochre against slate skies; cry
sappy tears from our tapped
trunks, eyes sunken under
knotted fists; leave our roots
to recharge — and release into
the fall?
love notes
a ritual to start the work week
