Wildly Pouring

I learned bad words about your body
before I knew what a body was
in language harsh as cutting meat,
broken like the sidewalks and separate as the river
across barbed wire and a maze of railroad tracks,
separate from you with only the yearning,
the blind desire I’d turn into fight,
driving my fists into another body I didn’t know,
wanting to know your body,
any body, especially my own.
You were angry that I loved your body
like your mind was so adorable
or the mean way you’d speak,
but I did love your body,
love it still when I cut back across the tracks
and feel you flowing
down from the mountains
wildly pouring yourself
wet to the sea.

 

 

Wildly Pouring


 


8 Responses to “Wildly Pouring”

  1. Magnificent. Nothing to say, really, but thank you.

  2. David Banner says:

    We are taught to hate our bodies…this says it all…

  3. Soma Hunter says:

    Through this poem I can feel your knowing of “your” body as the one body of mankind. This same knowing for me became my new name, Soma, which is Greek for “body.” Thank you, Don, for such a clear rendering of this truth.

  4. susan bennett says:

    Absolutely on the mark / potent

  5. Pichay says:

    …then, there are the tiny creeks with no name, drying up, unloved, gone underground to a waiting place, holding purity true. But, enough survive that river may thrive to complete its journey to the sea.

  6. Rose says:

    Very powerful, Don. And useful male perspective for us women:

    You were angry that I loved your body
    like your mind was so adorable
    or the mean way you’d speak,
    but I did love your body

  7. Stan Grindstaff says:

    Don… Such a feisty furious invocation of incarnational angst… until consciousness accepts the blend of spirit & form… the wrestling match replaced with loving flow… women & men & all of nature safe again… You, my friend, are a force of nature!

  8. Bill Dare says:

    Brilliant! Thank you.

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