It is not a needle.
It is not a syringe
It is a key
that fits my front door
but now that I have it
will I use it?
Am I ready
to leave my distanced redoubt?
Is my unmasked heart prepared
to trust those I meet?
I cannot say
but the key turns
the dust-dry tumblers
the bolt withdraws
the door creaks open
I squint at the sun
of a different year
smell the aromas
of an unmapped summer
hear the surf noise
of my lifeblood’s anticipation
and I step outside
Archive for the ‘Creativity’ Category
The Key
Posted in Writing, tagged COVID, modern poetry, Poetry, vaccine on 10 Jun 2021| 9 Comments »
Bound
Posted in Creativity, tagged friendship, modern poetry, Poetry, righteous on 13 May 2021| Leave a Comment »
I See Hope
Posted in Writing, tagged #amwriting, modern poetry, Poetry, short fiction, vignettes, Writing on 11 Mar 2021| 3 Comments »
Fingers deep in waking earth
clearing ferns from wintry somnolence
Their feathered, spiked, serrate fronds
release spores in ochre clouds
Raindrops drum my hat brim
enthusiastic paradiddles of spring
Hands set blade to swordleaf
trimming old stems and rusted detritus
From the center I lift accreted duff
revealing curls, verdant and sleepy
Nestled in that fiddlehead crown
is the confidence of rebirth
Hope is spring’s eternal gift
a promise of life
and all it contains
My Left Hand
Posted in Creativity, Culture, tagged dexter, left-handed, right-handed, sinister on 18 Feb 2021| 3 Comments »
I am right-handed, and I live in a right-handed world.
It’s the hand with which most of us write. It’s the hand we use to salute, take an oath, and offer in greeting. It’s the side on which we seat our most trusted allies. It’s the hand we deem dexterous, while the left hand we label sinister.
It’s not surprising that our left hands get short shrift. We right-handers often think of them as the clumsy, oafish sibling to our dominant hand. We use these “lesser” appendages to write joking notes in a purposefully childlike script, and to deliver less-than-flattering compliments.
I do not look at my left hand this way.
My left hand is pretty damned amazing. It’s stronger than my right. It can hold something rock-steady while my right hand tinkers away for hours. Having been a musician, I can tell you that my left hand has just as much dexterity as does my right, perhaps more. Oh, sure, my right hand is quite adept at making squiggly lines on a sheet of paper, but can it play Beethoven or manage the tricky fingerings of a Hindemith sonata? On a keyboard (piano or computer), they each match the other for adroitness.
When I’m working a project, which hand always gets injured? Not the left hand, despite being the one (literally) doing the heavy lifting. (Exception to this rule: when cooking, the left is always the injured party, but that’s only because the right hand is the one holding the knife.)
While my left hand cannot throw worth a damn, it can catch like a boss; throw me a baseball, a Frisbee, an apple, or a set of car keys, and my right hand will fumble it, bobble it, mistime the grip, while my left hand will bring it home every time.
My left hand is my support, my brace, my counter-balance. It is the lifter of sacks and the grabber of railings. It is dependable, fearless, powerful, perseverant, uncomplaining. Above all, it is modest, content to let its partner take the glory; it seeks neither praise nor the limelight.
So, let us raise a glass with and to our non-dominant hands. Let us recognize that it is the disparity between right and left that creates their synergistic whole, a partnership that has conquered the world. Let us admit that our non-dominant hands are as important, in their way, as their mirror images.
It is their differences that make them strong.
As with many things.
k
I Do Not Believe
Posted in Politics, Writing, tagged acab, binary thinking, critical thinking, Poetry, prejudice on 11 Feb 2021| Leave a Comment »

I do not believe
. . . that all cops are bastards
. . . that all pharmacists want us sick
. . . that all lawyers are heartless
. . . that all Republicans are stupid
. . . that all Democrats are socialists
. . . that all conservatives are evil
. . . that all progressives are anarchists
. . . that all Blacks are criminals
. . . that all Whites are racists
. . . that all Arabs are terrorists
. . . that all Hispanics are gangsters
. . . that all men are pigs
. . . that all women are bitches
The world is greyer than this
Much, much greyer than this
On these points
And a million other ways
Thinking so
Denies
Everything
Scars on My Heart, To Date
Posted in Creativity, tagged breach, capitol, insurrection, modern poetry on 07 Jan 2021| 1 Comment »
22 Nov 1963
19 Oct 1964
04 Apr 1968
06 Jun 1968
27 Nov 1978
06 Oct 1981
28 Jan 1986
19 Apr 1995
11 Sep 2001
15 Jul 2020
06 Jan 2021
JFK
Mom
MLK
RFK
Milk/Moscone
Sadat
Challenger
OK City
9/11
Brother
America


