Posted in Uncategorized, tagged apple, hands, love, poem, poetry, touch on October 15, 2019| 2 Comments »
It’s something the hands learn
with practice—how thin to slice
the apples for drying, how close
to cut to the core. In the same way
the hands learn to touch a lover,
how gently, how firmly, just where.
Oh the apple. What it knows
of desire. What it knows
of bruising, of bite. Oh the hands,
what they know of precision.
Of the pleasure of practice.
Of the joy in getting it right.
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged erik satie, gnossienne 2, longing, poem, poetry, touch on August 24, 2019| Leave a Comment »
from Erik Satie’s Gnossienne 2
like an almost breeze
like sunshine slanting through
afternoon clouds—
touch me like that
like the rain I’m not sure is there
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged beauty, fencing, poem, poetry, touch on January 17, 2018| 8 Comments »
In fencing, they call it la belle,
“the beautiful one” the tie-breaking point
in a bout—that moment when
one person touches another
and the balance is tipped.
How long ago the balance tipped
in your favor. How long ago
I knew that all I really want
is to lower my sword,
give the invitation
for you to touch me again,
beautifully, tip to target, then
start the bout again.
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged cat, meditation, poem, poetry, touch on September 13, 2017| 2 Comments »
The cat does not care that I’m meditating.
She cares that I am warm and seated and still.
I pretend that I am ignoring her and notice
when I pretend not to notice I am pretending.
She settles in my lap. I notice how
this act seems to involve the whole world.
All day, I consider how powerful an act
to touch someone. how even the sky leans in.
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged intimacy, piano, poem, poetry, song, touch on July 14, 2017| 4 Comments »
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged love, poem, silence, touch, triolet on February 2, 2013| 3 Comments »
Let’s not talk of things we’ve done,
let’s correspond with touch.
Your skin the land, my hands the sun,
love, let’s not talk of things we’ve done—
we’ll let our chatty fingers run
in tangled narratives… oh hush
mmm, let’s not talk of things we’ve done,
let’s correspond with touch.
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged emptiness, how do we understand the world?, poem, tanka sequence, time, touch, words on December 20, 2011| 2 Comments »
on our fingers,
six layers of skin
because
our hands
are made to touch
*
my daughter
picks a small stone
from the parking lot
and puts it
in her mouth
*
how do we know
what is real?
the stone
in the mouth
smooth and gritty and cold
*
the days
are so short.
they turn
into years
that are so, so short
*
and have we touched
enough?
the fingers
still have much
skin left
*
I am being
eroded
but you can’t see …
it’s all inside
the canyons deepening
*
I used to rush
to fill in
emptiness—
small stones
sinking into a pond
*
already
I have said
too much.
