After The Hunt

In thick bed of green grass
On a Minnesota lawn
Hides an Easter egg
From the children’s hungry eyes.

The eggshell is not thick
And within life’s secrets lie.
Yes, inside inside inside
An entire universe resides.

The children never find the egg
And soon the thin shell splits,
Spider cracks expose life’s secrets
To the moist and worm-wrung dirt.

From the Easter egg then sprouts
The fabled Easter tree
With chocolate peanut butter sap
And broad, pastel-colored leaves.

All of life’s sweet secrets there
Sugar silent in the wind.
The mysteries of fertile faith
And marshmallow fowl without end.

After The Hunt

A Labyrinth Is Not A Maze And A Maze Is Not A Metaphor And A Metaphor Is Not A Magic Word

Lost in a maze of our own construction
Forever running into walls we’d forgotten about;
Walls choked high with greedy, red-thorned vines.

We feel the center waiting close-by
And we hear the labored breaths of others
Just around the bend.

A Labyrinth Is Not A Maze And A Maze Is Not A Metaphor And A Metaphor Is Not A Magic Word

As the day grows long, regret casts a shadow dark o’er yonder willow tree

I only wanted to become a monster for a little while;

With the easy teeth

And the crystal claws

Cutting through the cold fog night while

Misshapened intentions avoid the lick of angry torchlight.

For a little while only.

But not forever, no.

No, not forever, no

As the day grows long, regret casts a shadow dark o’er yonder willow tree

How Emotions Are Made

I am known for being hard to read
still
it’s not true 
that emotions 
are things 
that happen 
to us.

Can we feel an emotion 
     if we don’t have a word for it?

Emotions are constructed, 
     are not some objective thing, 
          they’re learned and constructed.

the face          is very
     ambiguous 
in     its     meaning

You have a basic feeling
          — like “pleasant” “unpleasant”
          — and bodily sensations; 
the brain’s always predicting
what those sensations are.
We use emotion concepts 
to make sense 
of our sense. 

We construct emotions.
We are taught these concepts.
     You don’t teach feelings. 
But emotion concepts —
     like…

     once you know the word, 
          if you often hear the word, 
               then it becomes automatic, 
                    like driving a car. 

You can learn 
to distinguish 
between distress and discomfort. 

Realize that 
     if the brain uses past 
     to construct present, 
     invest in the present 
     to cultivate new experiences 
     that then become the seeds

 
     for your future.

* poem found here: https://www.theverge.com/2017/4/10/15245690/how-emotions-are-made-neuroscience-lisa-feldman-barrett

How Emotions Are Made

Poem Found in My Twitter Feed

TWEETS FOLLOWING FOLLOWERS

What’s happening?
Dismiss
Add your birthday to your profile
     Let people know when the big day arrives.

531 replies 603 retweets 1,019 likes
Promoted
all I do is eat cheese & write poems
   let my belly be free in the sun for the first time
          and it was…

0 replies 0 retweets 1 like

YOU DESERVE THIS!
Flo from Progressive ‏Verified account @ItsFlo
          Giddy-up, motherfucker!
Make no mistake I’ll cut a bitch
I unblocked everyone

Followed by No Other

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Poem Found in My Twitter Feed

To Every Yard A Wyrm With Work To Do

Tied together like a king rat,
We find a mass of worms
At the bottom of a small pool,
So we fish them out
With a soft, bent stick
And drop them on the side
Of the concrete drainage ditch
To watch which ones show volition.

Those whom will to move we scoop
And throw into a neighboring yard
That offers dirt cover to survive until
The next storm rolls through
And again washes them down this way.

The children wonder
If we saved an entire family.
I tell them I don’t know
If worms have family
Like we have families.

The children argue,
Then decide that even if
Worms don’t have families
They probably didn’t want to die
In a big tangle of other drowned worms
At the bottom of concrete hole.

I tell them that’s probably
Just about right then ask
Which is better: to die together
Or to die alone?

Neither one attempts to answer.

Instead, we walk in suburb silence,
Hopping over mossy puddles,
And dodging every branch
That buds with new, green life.

To Every Yard A Wyrm With Work To Do

Love in the Time of 78.09% Nitrogen, 20.95% Oxygen, 0.93% Argon, 0.04% Carbon Dioxide, Small Amounts of Other Gases, and a Variable Amount of Water Vapor

you are my favorite fresh air
and when you touch my face
i am infused to heights so deadly
from which, were i to plummet,
would surely leave me flattened,
as if by unmanned steam roller,
smile permanently pressed
upon my breeze-kissed face.
and this is why i love you so:
you make every imagined death
picturesque, no matter how grotesque.

Love in the Time of 78.09% Nitrogen, 20.95% Oxygen, 0.93% Argon, 0.04% Carbon Dioxide, Small Amounts of Other Gases, and a Variable Amount of Water Vapor