A Mouth

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A Mouth (3rd draft on 8/9/23)

Is there anything more beautiful
than a mouth- tongue, teeth, and lips?

Situated just beneath something 

just as wonderful, a nose.

Solomon praised his beloved's teeth

calling them sheep and each with its pair.

Utterances come from a mouth;

sounds and words shaped 

by the shape of a mouth.

And if the mouth is a kind of tree

and those sounds and words 

are a kind of fruit,

they come from the roots 

reaching down deep into that damp 

dark place that is the heart and mind-

a labyrinth of neurons, chemicals,

imagination, and soul,

where all of those things vibrate

their frequency, maybe, earthworms detect,

that eventually make their

way to the surface 

where they become

figs and flowers- ripe!

And if you go far enough down

and far enough back

you get to the source of neurons

and chemicals and electricity

and light and imagination and souls

a caring Creator: declaring 

and declaring and declaring-

Sometimes, someone will say,

She's got a mouth on her-

and what they mean is she talks like a sailor.

But if I said that about my wife 

what I would mean is

her mouth is a flower 

opening up in speech,

a blossom continually in blossom

declaring glorious things

like stars in the firmament

proclaiming the handiwork of Someone

without saying anything at all.

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A Mouth (2nd draft written on 7/22/23, first draft written in my notebook on 7/21/23)

Is there anything more beautiful
than a mouth-

tongue, teeth, and lips?

Solomon praised his beloved's teeth

calling them sheep and each with its pair.

Utterances come from a mouth

sounds and words shaped by the shape

of a mouth.

And if the mouth is a kind of tree

and those sounds and words 

are a kind of fruit,

they come from the roots reaching down

deep into that damp dark place

that is the heart and mind-

a labyrinth of neurons, chemicals,

imagination and soul,

where all of those things vibrate

like listening earthworms

that eventually make their

way to the surface where they become

figs and flowers.

And if you go far enough down

and far enough back

you get to the source of neurons

and chemicals and electricity

and light and imagination and souls

a caring Creator, declaring 

and declaring.

Sometimes, someone will say,

She's got a mouth on her-

and what they mean is she talks like a sailor.

If I said that about my wife what I would mean is

her mouth is a flower opening up in speech

that is like the firmament declaring glorious things

without saying anything at all.

Failure of the Father

Failure of the Father (first draft 7/11/2023)

Back to the grind

is something people say on Monday morning.

Did Adam know, all these years later

that his progeny would be reduced to millstones?

My daughters are asleep

the moon is awake

and the sun hasn't peaked over the horizon yet

and my car, half a tank of gas,

meanders over the landscape

to a building I've given almost all of myself to.

With each hour I grind

I have less and less grain

and my countenance falls

when my wife shows me the numbers.

No property to protect

or cultivate.

In my apartment complex

no one cares if their trash

makes it into the dumpster or not

or if a cockroach scurries 

across the table or not.

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Failure of the Father (first draft 7/11/2023)

First, there is the whole making money thing
food, electricity, housing, clothes, gifts

To do this work has to be done

and it can't just be meaningful work

although that's nice

it has to be work that meets a certain bare minimum.

Being in the midwest close to a big city

that number is 85,000.

So this work has to pay at least 7,083.33 per month

which breaks down to about 44.27 for a 40 hour work week

but most likely you will be working 50 or more hours a week

because you are never paid what you are your service is worth

so more like 35.41 for a 50 hour work week

but if you want to find a job for that amount of money, good luck

unless you were the one person that ignored all of your school teachers

and counselors and decided to become a plumber or electrician

but most likely you are someone who has a massive amount of debt

because you made the terrible decision to go to college

and pay them to learn about things you really care about

philosophy, acting, stage design, theology, poetry

because you liked those things and paid over $120,000

so now when you work you have to also pay off that debt so you need a job

that pays more than what I just described above

but you are underqualified or overqualified for everything 

so you continue to do the job you have.

Then there is also spending time with your children.

Where you talk with them and play with them

and read to them and try to do something special with them.

And your poor wife, she's nearly last

and you need to spend time with her.

And lastly there's this whole God thing

reading scripture and praying.

Maybe trying to do something you enjoy doing 

just for fun?

But, as you can see the system we participate in

makes it nearly impossible to do all of these things well.

I guess that's why so many people say on Monday,

Well, it's back to the grind. Because if you are someone

who wants to be a good person and work hard

you are the one in the mill, be ground out.

Acknowledgement

Acknowledgement (first draft 7/6/2023)

The bird suddenly becomes aware
of my presence-
I then realize what I have always longed for
as I make eye-contact with this small, small Robin
who recognizes me and then flees-
acknowledgement.
I want to be taken seriously, as this bird does.
While I wanted it to linger, it knows who I am
and so flees, as it should. I could kill it
with my thumb and forefinger
not even meaning to.
I want to be acknowledged as the doe and her two fawns did
three days ago. She stopped. Her two fawns leaped and then stop.
And we gazed at one another for a long time.
I have never been acknowledged the way an animal does.

Deadspeak

Deadspeak (second draft 7/24/2023)

The dead don't speak. Michael Burger, the historian, 

taught me that medieval society was a community 

of the living and of the dead, which I long for,

but I don't know what that means.

When I think of Josh, I can still hear him playing 

his guitar, but his lips, sealed like a mailed-out envelope

somewhere between here and Sheol,

perhaps buried underground or kept under

someone's pillow- maybe his mother's.

She remains on this plane and speaks.

When I think of my piano teacher

Mrs. Weikel, I can still feel her old skin 

against the pads of my fingers

and hear her strike the key with tenderness

I've never had. But the music is only in my mind 

her lovely voice is gone with her piano and her house

someone else's house is there now and it feels

like that one doesn't belong, but she's dead.

And then there is Sport, with her long wet nose

nuzzling into my lap, asking for me to stay up

with her just a little bit longer into the night

all 60 pounds of her mutt-body gone.

And I can still feel her warm breath

and her perfect fur on my young man's hands.

But she's gone.

The dead do not speak and they do not live on in our hearts.

I only remember some things. 

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Deadspeak (first draft 7/6/2023)

The dead don't speak. Michael Burger, the historian, 

taught me that medieval society was a community 

both of the living and of the dead, which I long for,

but I don't know what that means.

When I think of Josh, I can still hear him playing 

his guitar, but his lips, sealed like a mailed-out envelope

somewhere between here and Sheol,

perhaps buried underground or kept under

someone's pillow- maybe his mother's.

She remains on this plane and speaks.

When I think of my piano teacher

Mrs. Weikel, I can still feel her old skin 

against the pads of my fingers

and hear her strike the key with tenderness

I never had. But the music is only in my mind 

her lovely voice is gone with her piano and her house

someone else's house is there now and it feels

like that one doesn't belong, but she's dead.

And then there is Sport, with her long wet nose

nuzzling into my lap, asking for me to stay up

with her just a little bit longer into the night

all 60 pounds of her mut-body gone.

And I can still feel her warm breath

and her perfect fur on my young man's hands.

But she is gone.

The dead do not speak and they do not live on in our hearts.

I only remember some things. 

Books

Books (first draft 7/5/2023)

What is it about words
the way we use words to describe words

or define words by using words

that we may not know the definitions of.

Words are vibrations

and those vibrations can be captured in metaphor

like an insect in amber.

God speaks words

and then light,

then firmament,

then seas,

then sun, moon, and stars,

then earth and vegetation,

then birds and sea creatures,

then animals and people

all vibrating, all speaking.

Books are like insects in amber

or like fossils or like petrified trees-

but not quite,

because when I read the words out loud

they are alive, pulsating, vibrating.

The bones of animals turn to stone.