Thoughts Have Hands

To whom do you raise your voice

Stretch out humbled arms

                      Open empty hands

Divine or human image —

           Your fondest carved idol? 

Father, mother

           Lover, redeemer —

An infinite power: benign or indifferent,

And what hopes do you raise

After singing your hymns

And offering your praise? 

Do you ask for bread, 

               Forgiveness of debt,

Permission to proceed as you are,

Or clearer direction 

               To take you far —

At least for better days

       And blessings for your people ?

God beyond god:

Force of goodness and beauty, 

Full of awesome light, 

I wonder do you cry for your lovely

Creatures who die in bloody fights,

Enter life to be broken,

Soon to be eaten; while others 

               Feast with special guests

Wrapped in purple,

               Drunk on wine?

Do you care,

                Or must we assume

Our stardust —

          Cooked in galaxies 

On fire breathing stars

          Blown at the speed of light 

Unfathomed distances to earth 

          Forged of water and clay  —

Exhausted the power of your 

          Majestic evolution ? 

Omniscient ?

Omnipresent ?

Who drives this Omnibus 

                Where are you going?

I hear you bend the arc of justice,

                   Plan a peaceful kingdom 

Soon within reach 

                   Is it only for the chosen? 

Why is divine light persistently blinding ?

                Will we know your presence ? 

What actually is it —

                You are doing?

 So many questions 

                  Comes of human longing.

What does it matter?

                       What shall I do?

Pray for easy answers?

                     Seek a mystic vision? 

Find a front seat on your cosmic bus:

Tour the universe

             In air conditioned comfort, 

Take in the mysteries of night, 

             Or with an open mind 

 Think to take the wheel ?

God’s no Sargent at Arms,

No paid escort,

              No wizard of spells,

Or virgin mother —

               Hidden in nature. 

She is no nurse, teacher or

               Power broker.

The creator’s the doorman 

          For a brand new salon

He opens the door 

           Tips a cosmic hat, 

Waves us in.

When the music begins 

         And the lights turn low 

On the ballroom floor,

          He waltzes away.

You need no appointment. 

Entrance is free;

          The sign for the exit 

Flashes clearly.

The elevators stay busy 

              You must wait for a ride,

To the rooms up above

               If you tire of dance.

How high you go,

              That’s for you to decide

But don’t forget the key.

You can stay for the dance,

                   Order a drink at the bar,

Wait for the next car, or like

                  Others eager for sleep 

Grab your bags and

                 Climb the steps.

Either way 

                 You must choose a room.

Some want a view, others a wall

Some a hot bath 

               To prepare for rest,

And others call 

               Room service for ice

 And a bottle of bubbly. 

Pray in earnest,

              Listen to Life’s music

The rhythm’s are subtle 

              Even atonal 

The tunes played hard and loud 

             Can drive you crazy.

Wear out the dance floor

                 Thrive while able

There’s nothing to lose

                  But trust your feet. 

For you are dust 

                 From long dead stars 

Carried by solar winds

Make your own sound

Sing your song

For when the music ends

Silence begins.

THH

 

Overwhelmed claims more than feelings, 

It’s the mountain you refuse to climb. 

Stacks upon stacks of paper prescribing duties,

Piled on the desk begging for time.

Books grabbed in a moment of inspiration 

Unread at the foot of your bed,

Judging failures of attention.

The cards and calls 

Meant to be addressed,

Unwritten and unmade like laundry

Unfolded and left wrinkled in a dryer. 

Activities and events you knew you 

Should join, 

But failed to find your shoes,

Not from lack of interest or disrespect 

But out of fatigue and bitter frustration.

This is the state of a tired mind, 

Not broken, but bruised 

by exigencies of time and story.

The uncontrollable shape of being: 

Grateful for sleep

Happy to stroll down 

Neighborhood streets, 

Smiling at nothing special,

Blinded by the chill of winter wind,

Ignoring my brain.

Aimless for now. 

Resonant with stubborn emotions, 

Insistent to reclaim rhythm, and 

Heal from dissonance.

This is a day for rest

Until my body decides

It’s ready for yes,

Only then to begin again

At a pace of my choosing.

THH

02/18/26

Go deep 

No deeper 

Think 

Think what matters 

Better still 

Ask yourself 

What do I want?

Say I want ….

Fill in the blank.

Can you answer?

What about sleep?

You know what you need 

Survival and safety!

Do these cause you grief ?

No problem you have comforts,

Do you even worry for that ?

Ok, kind sir,

I know truth hides under 

Fantasy and predictions.

Plays hard to get 

Creates tons of confusion.

So what do you feel ?

When you hit bottom 

Can you touch that?

Or is it so far below ground,

You’ve lost sight of the stars? 

Can’t tell the time ? 

Know only darkness

And foreboding silence?

Digging down 

Throwing off possessions

Discounting the wins

Soothing old wounds

Drilling down night after night 

Frustrated to discover

There’s s always more

Will you keep digging?

What memories last?

Do they carry too much weight ?

Do they hold you fast ?

Make you run for dear life ?

Leave you curled in a corner 

Tied to your chains?

What matters now?

You know nothing lasts

And your time will come,

Just when —

You would rather not know.

When I hit bottom

Shiver in the cold

Lost in my cave

I roll into thoughts

Count errors and debts

Pull up my covers

Know nothing inside adds any worth.

No calvary will come — 

Mother will not remind

How strong you can be —

Few friends will remember 

To check on your health,

Only your dog lays down 

Beside you.

Travel seems pointless 

No reason to go out 

No place —

North, east, or west,

Satisfies your quest 

The world offers a society of strange 

People without names

Appointed for ill thought out purpose 

Faces that smile 

While making side glances

This way or that 

Ingratiating stances, and you must decide 

on your own.

The day flat

Empty and numb 

A direction’s no map

To chart a way home ?

Ok I see 

You have never really known.

I get it now.

Too much time spent 

Fawning and longing 

Earning attention 

Waiting for crumbs

From the master’s table.

In shame you may tip your hat,

Or tap your foot. 

Dying to be mentioned 

In testaments written 

By the long departed 

Pays no mind to your duty or dust.

Say what you like?

What would be fun ? 

Can you start there?

I want to laugh

I want to cry

I want to see Paris

I want my friends

I want to dare.

Mostly I sigh.

I want to come up for clean air

Not suffocate in my own dry dust

Eating stale bread 

Drinking sour wine

A note nailed to the door 

Enter freely.

Brush the uncertain away 

Breathing builds pressure 

Opens the lungs

Gives life to the broken 

And forsaken. 

Weary bones grow stronger 

Wrapped in loving arms

Hugs connect flesh 

Massage sore muscle

A soft kiss confesses bliss 

Holding hands

Comforts the lonely.

Salt stings

But heals wounds

Awakens attention 

Reach out from your tomb 

Walk in the sun

Learn to speak human

Practice art

Paint colors that delight 

Write honest words that spill 

with ease on your page 

Keep warm inside 

Burn candles at night 

Breathe the salt of sea air

Be nothing but light

Empty of pity

Filled with plenty 

Open to love

When it comes

Enjoy freely.

THH

02-16-26

Emotions shy away from new adventures

Uncertain of place, wary of time,

Even when doors fly wide open,

Expectations temper joyful invitations.

Tantalized by mysteries,

Spiced with human interest,

Drawn over thresholds of social networks

In smiling assurance.

My coat draped over the banister

Left for casual retreat.

Hugs exchanged.

Accrued distances overcome,

Feigned limits surrendered,

A journey commences,

Edged with fears of falling,

Through doors of curious perception

Indulged by graceful persistence.

Fingers touch.

Hands entwine,

Yours in mine.

Fumbled buttons undone,

Thin skin exposed to healing kisses.

Wrinkles soothed.

Surprised by resonance,

Worries put to rest.

Nothing tested only abidance.

Lips eager,

Press warmly together,

Tongues play catch,

Energy brims with passion,

Redolent with pleasure like no other.

Of arms, legs and hips

In each other’s way

Unconcerned with ends

Seeking only presence

With nothing to defend.

Connection uncensored.

Intimate again,

Filled with endorphins

No need for discussion

Just room for laughter.

Swimming ancient currents of heartbreak

And accidents spilt over time.

Now moored in the eddies of mind,

The flow of our river undisturbed,

Carefree swims make room

For time to lounge in exuberant acceptance

Of each other.

So may it continue in your happy presence.

THH

02/09/26