It’s so ridiculous,
comes over me suddenly
like a storm.
I want to fight with someone,
shout at them
to give him back.
on the order of
another husband lost.
There is nothing in this moment
Nothing to guide me,
Nothing to hinder me.
Those are all thoughts and feelings
that rise and fall.
They come from nowhere
previous thoughts and feelings.
Yes, there is sensation and emotion,
the brain’s tools for
So difficult to sit doing nothing
unless enforced by the presence of others.
Alone, I want to be busy every moment.
What makes me uneasy with stillness?
I’m not doing anything!
You are breathing, pumping blood.
Holding down the chair.
No. That word
came from elsewhere than cleverness.
That word is
closer to the bones.
I’ve not tried before to retrace in memory how my poems come into being. Yesterday a close friend’s response to “Fixed” move me to do so.
This poem came to me, as most of them do, in much the same way that spoken ministry messages come to me during Quaker waiting worship. I am inspired by something, perhaps something very minor, that crosses my awareness, and suddenly there is an image or word or phrase.
My usual morning practice…