Willful
Snowflakes shifting
Drifting in reverse
Suddenly forgetting
Their mission to fall
Changing their mind
Desiring a new direction
They decide to catch
The next breeze back
Upward tending
But the Winter Wind
Only plays with them
Swirling their climb
Around his finger, He
Cradles their attempts
Their wishes for ascension
For a moment in his palm
Before blowing them
Back down again
As was always
Intended
-a.r.
Photograph by Ioannis Nikiforakis
Life
There it is
Tethered taught
That weighted pendulum
Pointing through me to the earth
My stillness has not stopped it swinging
Only allowed me to feel its tug on my guts
Helped me to hear the movement of molecules
Created while it circles and stirs my insides
Were I to cut it just to lighten my middle
My vital organs would surely scatter
Leaving me too light a floating husk
No, I walk heavy on the ground
I will sit still and feel the pull
Allow for notice living full
Emptiness can wait
It can visit when
I die
-a.r.
Painting:Plumb Bob and Haiku Islands
by Claire Beynon
I desire a different scenario
But am terribly tethered to seasons
Flailing and flung by their come-and-go
I drift linked and lobbed without reason
-a.r.
A painting of tethered DNA molecules,
by Dr. Jacob Kerssemakers
My teeth will stay
Sensitive
Until I die
Unless I pluck them out
With precision
Or only ever chew apart
Bland and lukewarm
Love
-a.r.
Painting: Wisdom Tooth by Emily W. Martin
In an eggshell, we
Float happily
Carbon blobs and protein
Cellular globs still gooey
But sustained vertically
By umbilical religiosity
Believing our own slime
To be much protected by
The thinnest veneer
Of calcified beauty
And ritual superiority
While inside we are slowly
Heated to edible
By the tyranny
Of commodity
And perfectly seasoned
For consumption
With perpetual positivity
-a.r.
Painting: Egg and Silver Spoon on a White Cloth by Julian Merrow-Smith
I am untethered
A green globe drifting, floating
Party balloon of the gods
Foiled favor gone too far, let go
Having given up the ghost
And denied the host
A proper gift, goodbye
I will not be played with
POP!
-a.r.
Painting: Green Balloon, by Tonya Engel
That newly stitched and fluffed
Quilt of clean and pristine snow
Simply covers and preserves
The piles of dog shit down below
-a.r.
Photograph: snow hills by savechip on deviantart.com
I cannot tolerate this crunch beneath my feet
There is too much gravel on the ground
Where I am going
And yet
Still
I step
I cannot abide this slicing into my bare soles
There is too much blood pooling behind
Where I have been
And yet
Still
I go
I cannot stand this isolated resting stop
There is too much dust untouched
Where I wait
And yet
Still
I sit
I cannot dwell on the rescue I may be wishing for
There is too much time wasted
Where I wonder
And yet
Still
I want
I cannot stray from this place empty and spent
There is too much unknown
Where I might end
And yet
Still
I will
-a.r.
Painting: The Song of the Lark by Jules Breton
no Self to be saved
no big You to the rescue
this Me fantasy
-a.r.
Painting: The Lovers by Rene Magritte
Last night
My lover made a claim, expecting ALL of me
Of loyalty and of belief, I cannot let this be
I reject this, my body will not digest this
All of anything is a lie, unless we speak of when you die
ALL of me is not up for grabs, not even on the table
I alone will save this painted face, if I am able
There is at least one card you cannot see
So close that I have sewn it directly into me
Mine alone, this fleshy vest, you may have the rest
But this old Dame, I control her play, one day
I will reach, with this hand, into my beating heart
I will rip these seams apart, and I will throw her down
This Queen, and claim her crown
Until that day, She and I decide how much of me
To hold, to play, to bluff, discard, or hide
Or perhaps if you are lucky
To let it ride
-a.r.
Painting: Judith II The Queen of Hearts by Karen M.
Happy Valentine’s Day.
sometimesihatemycat 