Working Hands

Their fingers pulse with worldly weight
Throbbing through burdens refusing burial
Digging up soil and mud to uproot uproars from the shores of yesteryear
The gripping roots cling to earth
Pulling and ripping hands into harvests

How the labor of love, of life, livens rustling hands
Running callused caresses over objects and subjects of their cares

Consolations for mutilated fingertips are far away and few
The Constellations defining and descending magic down upon them
with softer touches
for their malignant clutches circulating blood to their fingerprints
from the tangled thumbs hovering above at higher views

Corporate Responsibility

Animals wearing elegant robes
branded boots and opposable thumbs
making kings of the jungle
a right of birth
a prospect preposterous as it is pretentious
on our planet of apes

Renewing energy and redeeming our future
to save a planet
that never needed us
and certainly never
a “human” touch

Our responsibilities and standards
have seen us go so far
Further than anyone would dare admit
that the footsteps of forward thinking
have destroyed what was once our home

Exotic tribes, barbarians, and savages travel to distant planets to discover the extra-terrestrial
at ultra speeds defying physics and showcasing cutting edge science
to find nothing but themselves
equally far away
floating away on earth

It is only fitting
that a planet so intent on spinning in circles
deserves to hold monkeys destroying themselves
to preserve their senses
and uphold illusion
Pretending they never had a tail on their behinds
Scratching their heads in supreme kangaroo courts
agreeing to sanity by consensus
because power in numbers
never failed to steer us wrong

Spectrum

My moments are brief
But I live a life I cannot summarize
Watching summer rise from the grips of the frigid
Seeing fluid grasp hands
and walk away with the rigid
How is it that I don’t see, that I am blinded by brevity
Life marked by endless space
A step ahead, steering clear of all that is fond memory

I live in a continuance
On a line without end
Perhaps in a queue for the overdue
Or a long process undefined for men

Unrefined and unkempt for the grooming of tomorrow
My eyes never lie
Darkened by the endless shadows of the time that we borrow

If ever the space within my ears goes hollow
If ever the words from my lips spill sorrow
The beatings of my heart are still simple
And it’s this simplicity that I must always swallow

What today brings

Today, I ended my day as I got out of bed
I stumbled to yesterday’s breakfast
and later, to day before’s dinner

The hands of the clock
inched backwards
with every step I took towards tomorrow

Heeding routine was no task at all
and the novelty of today
gasped it’s last breath as I woke up this Fall

I pedalled backward on my bicycle to work
but looked ahead the entire day
With hopes of the upcoming
no longer in sight as I walked the other way

When tomorrow I awake again
to yesterdays of the future
I am no longer bound by minutes and hours
and all their accompanying features

But one day the rains will follow time
back into the clouds
I will look upon the past
and realize what it has now allowed

Inner fulfillment

Precious is human gut
Intestines truly worth an earthly value
Excavate and carve out what is worthy inside
never deprive the body of its fuel
or strip the purses of the inner church of others
whether in the presence of man or mule

Bodies are the temple of worship
to be cared for and caressed
before they diminish through the years they are forced to repeal and digest

But empty barrels of hungry stomachs wail in cells of solitude
groaning and reaching for sanctity and safety when void of nourishment

The excesses of pleasure and greed
are never worth the rot

But hunger unfulfilled
is food enough for thought

Stories

Once I was told
that if you hold a large sea shell to your ears
you may hear all the sounds of the ocean at night
and the winds will whisper the secrets of the waters
that are never revealed to others

I stand upon the riviera dressed up in a three-piece suit
wishing to end up where I once started
among the waves of salt water
simple as sparkling grains of sand
whisked up into the cool hands of the waterfront

The sky is peppered with dots lighting up my view
There are few who venture out at night
to appreciate skies so open
and all that is left shining bright in the ocean

I walk down the rocky cliffs
to run my fingers through the dry mounds of sands
to discover countless shells
with unheard stories of their own

I remove my shoes and swirl my toes in the sand
until I become one with the beachfront
and sink back with the waves
into the waters I once came from