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.
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.
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
Now I lay me down
to sleep, my soul, to sweet sleep.
What remains to keep?
Bellies too dark to return to the earth
Too full to handle the gorging yet to come
Hearts out sick today with a little more hope
Purple (red + blue) a lord of beating blush
Pelvis and thighs resistant to these tender lips and gentle breath
Tender lips and gentle breath
Tender and gentle
I am known for being hard to read
it’s not true
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
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 —
once you know the word,
if you often hear the word,
then it becomes automatic,
like driving a car.
You can learn
between distress and discomfort.
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
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all I do is eat cheese & write poems
let my belly be free in the sun for the first time
and it was…
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Falling up is not
The same as spreading your wings
And flying away
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.
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.