I learned bad words about your body
before I knew what a body was
in language harsh as cutting meat.
Broken like sidewalks, separate as the river
across barbed wire and 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,
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
and feel you flowing
down from the mountains
wildly pouring yourself
wet to the sea.
Magnificent. Nothing to say, really, but thank you.
We are taught to hate our bodies…this says it all…
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.
Absolutely on the mark / potent
…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.
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
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!
Brilliant! Thank you.