Contemplative Walk

When you walked around the room

I saw you hurting

in the left foot

the look of uncertainty

clouding over you

I noticed the change

in your pace

as you slowed down

the need to make it right

as you remembered

oh, that’s just the critic again

cackling again

on its own rhythm and cycled return

you can tune it out

and I’m so glad that you did

Your arms then rose in prayer

to the heavens and the angels’ breath

filling the room

I saw your eyes tear

the warm river of release

I felt the stirring of an inner girl

of seven, eight and nine

at the ages of innocence, first knowings

and uncertainty

and I wept for her

as I weep for you

and I held her

the girl in you

who is the girl in me

with frightened eyes

and careful, too careful step

with a too adult need to make

things perfect

holding life in polished rooms

that she cleaned so well

trying to make Them happy

trying to stop their pain

so they might have the time

to notice hers

Yes, I saw all of this

in that tender step

as you walked this room

as you often walk through your life

and I heard you listen

to the sounds of love

from sweet music

to your own quiet sobs

and I loved the moments of holding

you and her in my mind

and the inner landscape

of my very soul

Chicago

The old panes

Barely keep the wind out

Frost builds at the edges

Offering me the crazy notion

Of scooping it out to make

A snow cone

In January

But warm blankets

 wool socks

and hot tea

beckon me

to lay beside

a fat cat who wants to be

curled up and asleep

at my knee

tossing to the freezing

gale 

my despair and my doubt

Winter 2000

Cave in the Marrow

OK

so I closed my eyes

and I went right into it

I took a deep breath

B R E A T H E.......

IN

WHOOOOSH

OUT

and all I could feel

was this

intense burning painpainpain

and still with

my eyes closed

I thought I could

visualize the meat

yes, the meat

the blood

the muscles,

the traffic inside my veins

the throbbing of the

cellular structure

going about its business

of keeping me alive

and in the meat

was my resistance

yes, tough meaty, jerky style

resistance

and then I saw it

the meat

wrapped around

my thigh bone

the one that was giving

me such a hard time

and guess what

I had to breathe again

in ......

out ........

in ......

out.........

even slower

than before

in ........

out......

holding on to my brown

skin over this

goddamn stubborn thigh

fleshy leg

with muscles over bones

and then it happened

I understood

that I was to go down

deeper into the tissues

and laugh at my jerky, meaty resistance

and when I did

I found

there was a message written

for my eyes only

on the bone

I thought was being pierced

with crazy pain

a message that in my mind’s eye

said

Welcome

Please take off your shoes

which I had already done

how silly I thought

and of course that

is what the mind does

notice things and

silly thoughts

and you keep

breathing and the sign said

or maybe it was the yoga instructor

who said this

RELAX

and BREATHE

WHICH I DID!!

And it was still there

my awareness that

there was something I

was either doing or not

doing about this

muscle/bone

stretching connection

yoga, unity, mind-body-spirit  thing

because I still couldn’t get as far as I wanted

and so I continued

breathing as I

looked about at the rest

of my body which

by now was getting hotter

and more resistant

to this awkward

posture I was in

Sitting on my butt

bent over at the

waist,

trying, but not too hard

because we don’t do that at Kripalu

to reach my toes

Head to knee

and of course

BREATHING.....

and hurting

until I got it

I didn’t have to

bend so far

I didn’t have to

strain

I didn’t have to hurt

I could pull back

and breathe some more

which I did

and that’s when I

saw that I’d gone from

the mind to the body

to the cave of the marrow

to the bone

and when I got there

I felt only one big thing

FEAR

So I breathed some more

and then I realized

that the

cave to the marrow was

holding something

that  I

was not prepared

to confront

the depth of

how much I

have hated this body

and that’s when all

hell broke loose

meaning there

was fire in that

meat and those

bones and it was

coming from my breath and my heart

and I stayed with it

until I could feel, I mean really feel like 

I had burnt off some part

of that thing, that hateful thing

that by now

looked like

a Darth Vadar ish

parasite

that I was determined

to love to death

by drowning it in the

thunderstorm of

my tears of

exhaustion

over how long I’d held

that hatred and that pain

that I found as I sat

and breathed in compassion

and breathed out fear

deep in the cave of

the marrow of my spirited bones

Anniversary

it’s the anniversary today of my

throwing your ring away

amd  my surrendering to

the decision to finally let you go

it’s the anniversary of so many

precious and painful moments I remember

of us together or apart

it’s the anniversary of that

firey moment in my

tiny kitchen on a

freezing New Year’s Day

when my eyes locked into your stare

as I clutched at my cup of cider

and chatted with you about nothing

as I played the  hostess

and shyly let you follow me like an adorable pup

begging for my touch and a gentle hug

and it’s the anniversary of our

first little breakup (of more to come)

and my days of crazy thinking

that if I just kissed a few other people

I’d forget the way you’d broken my heart

of course

we know what happened

as my fragile will gave way 7 weeks later

to your  plaintive cry :

“please oh please don’t leave me yet,

it’s your birthday

and a great time for making up”

and it’s also the anniversary

just a wisp of a year

after having been lovers

of immersing myself in the fantasy

that one day you and

I would truly work it out

and today still another year later

it’s the second day of a year

of knowing

that love is not about going crazy

or constantly breaking up

and that  forever as a lover

the memory of you

and your traitorous charm

are happily erased from my own precious life

yes, it’s the third anniversary of

my chance encounter

with a woman whose passion

wouldn’t let me go

and whose fear fought my

ever coming back 

oh how painfully sweet

I remember how we danced,

and made love

how we fed, and yes,

tortured each other

and how glad  I am to leave behind

the memories of

my hypnotic love

for your smile,

your wit and

your sneaking bittersweet charm

happy anniversary

dear memory

it was six months of passion and laughter

and two years of sobbing as

I crawled back to my own life

happy anniversary, love

I miss you

and then when I think about it

I don’t.

Bombs Dropping

On homes and children

And veiled wives

Lives shattered

And animals running

Scared

And I sit here in

Flannel pajamas

And contemplate turning

On the sad news

Or not

Feeling like I can do

Nothing

But pray

That the men in power

Who think they have

My approval will wake up

In some moment

In the middle of

Biting into their

Morning toast

And realize that bombs

Dropping cannot be

The answer to violence

When violent thoughts

And actions

Often have

A cause

In hurt and misunderstanding

By people

Like you and I

Who go about their lives

Working and wanting

And trying to have

A good life

Doing it of course

According

To their own damn rules

And not yours or mine.

Bombs dropping

Like tears from

The sky

Shattering the peaceful

Existence of

Farmers and goats

And sheep

And little children

Who won’t understand

What it means to be

Labeled

Criminal

By thoughts

Cultivated in fear

And ignorance

To be thought of

As a weed that

Must be killed

Or rained upon

By a shower of lethal

Bombs

Dropping

From an angry sky

By arrogant fools

Who think THIS

Will preserve our

Sense of patriotism

And courage

And THIS

Will bring back

The gluttonous

Times of eating

That good ‘ol

American pie.

Oak Park, IL 2001 

Windswept Vulnerability

[for writers' eyes]

There I did it

I dropped the letter in the mailbox

with my latest writings

to you

my friend

and my best

critic

the one I trust

because you generally say

such nice things about what I do

There I did it

I wrote about my mother

and cried at the end of it all

But truthfully

the vulnerability I just shared with myself

this past week,

and that I exposed in the rooms

with others

who don’t really know my name

and really don’t really care about me

that vulnerability doesn’t feel as bad

as the one I’m feeling now

the one that is being windswept

by the carriers’ bags,

the wings of the steel eagles

that is making its way

across Ole’ Miss

and plains

and mountains

and deserts

down to your street

and your doorstep

and your hands

and your caring eyes

yes the very eyes that

I know I can look into

and see loving

friendship

Ahhhhhh!

This exposure feels

so strange

I’m standing naked in

a line of girls taking a shower

in the mountains

I’m running through one of my own

dreams

the ones that I wake up sweating from

because I believed that I was

naked

head to toe

and everyone saw every

tiny ugly mole

and every crevice and wrinkle

on my usually

carefully

protected

covered body

That is how I feel

about sending you these writings

I feel naked and exposed and

ohsovunerable that I can

barely spit out the aawwwouuch!!

at the thought

that you might

read what I wrote

and you might

not understand it

or you’ll read it at a different pace

the one that I didn’t intend

the one that belongs after all

to the reader

the one I have to let go of

because after all that is

the writer’s task

to be in the middle of the

word, thought, letter, key, dot, comma and space

in the breath, the idea, the image, the feeling and the

connecting line of brain/heart/body power

that gives the things she writes about

LIFE

So dear, make me feel

better

tell me when you read it

that you liked it even if you didn’t

No, that’s not it

Don’t tell me you didn’t like it

even if it’s not the truth

no, wait a minute

cover me up with

a blanket of hugs and kisses

and then tell me the truth

the whole truth and nothing but it

and then tell me whatever

you read, felt, thought, believed

learned or didn’t learn

or what you wanted to know more

about what I wrote

and what I sent to you

today when

I put those pieces of

white paper with

printed words

that came from my heart

and that healed me from my hurt

and that I just had to put to paper

and that I just had to send you

because I trust you goddammit

even if I I get so darn afraid

and windswept and wobbly in

all of myself

because of this

awesome feeling of

vulnerability.