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Posts Tagged ‘anger’

 

 

I’m not saying we shouldn’t be angry.

Anger seems reasonable. But perhaps

we will do what I’ve heard the Inuit do—

spend the emotion on walking, walk a line

until all the anger has left our bodies.

The moment the Inuit notice the anger is gone,

replaced, perhaps, by sadness or fear,

compassion or just a quietness,

they mark that spot with an object

to show the extent of their anger.

And perhaps, if we’re lucky, when we walk

this way, it will be a long enough walk

that we arrive at each other’s doors,

object in hand, and when the object

leaves our grip, we’ll be able to use our hands

to greet each other, touch each other’s faces,

point to the horizon to all the other places

we might choose to walk now together.

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wrap it around

a bouquet of gold and orange calendula,

now offer it to someone else—

how easily their smile

opens your hand

 

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Despite Birdsong

 

 

 

In a cupboard

he opens often

he keeps a box

of resentment.

Something about

knowing it is there

makes him feel alive.

 

He touches the box

again and again,

lets the anger fill

whatever inside him

feels empty.

 

Hear it? Thumping

in him, pretending

it is a heart. It’s easy

to mistake.

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One Message from the Body

 

 

an old black coat I slip on

that no longer fits—

this anger

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That Dry Feeling

 

 

 

In his heads, he swirls

the dark loose leaves

of his thoughts,

lets them boil

and steep too long,

then offers the tea

to others to drink,

but it spills before

the tea reaches the cup,

and he fumes,

throws in more leaves.

 

 

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How It Transforms

 

 

 

a pinch of cumin,

a pinch of salt, the scent

of lemon and ginger—

tell me, what else I should have done

with my anger

 

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Baring my claws for the pleasure of retracting them, choosing again to be gentle.

 

 

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