Thoughts Have Hands

Tonight Minneapolis cries out 

               Under siege from deadly Ice

 Spreading an aggravating chill 

                      In an already harsh winter.

Unhinged Ice raiders

               Slip down freezing streets 

Batter Neighbors 

                Shout curses 

Bash in doors to

                Shatter city peace.

Put knees on necks

               Breaks some bones 

Handcuff good people

                Lock them in cages 

Murder a smiling mother 

               Supporting her friends 

Orphan her son

                No empathy to pretend.

Schools raided — teach new 

            Lessons on uncivil intrusions

Churches invaded —

           To worship ungodly delusions

Citizens mass with hardy resolution

          And the spirit of empathy to

Protest armed bullies and militant racists,

Mock the frantic performance

And cowboy antics of B actors,

As Ice paints Minneapolis in

A veneer of red rage and

Alternative facts —

Labeled for now lawful 

And laughably viable.

The White House staff doubles down

And well paid Fox insiders

Invent new crimes to

Intimidate the people.

A wannabe king

               Searches for his crown

Decrees all resistance 

                Ugly and stupid 

Keeps the lid tight on relevant information

                  No consideration of cost

Blocks release of secrets of child predation

  

Churns the melting pot

                           Stokes the chaos 

Brings it to a boil

Says bad things happen

 Heads crack open but

  He knows nothing

Never backs down.

 

As a great metropolis

Defends against military occupation  

         

No sign of mercy

                        Thinks it great fun

As opponents bleed red.

         

On these dark Minnesota nights 

                            Nothing feels right,

Save for Good neighbors

                       Spreading salt down 

 To melt the terrors of ice 

                       All over town.

THH

01/29/26 revised

Shrink into yourself

            infinitesimally small

Invisible to most

        Comfortable but lost.

Then with Good reason 

                  Flex for freedom

Like in days of old when 

    The weak were defended

Unconcerned for the few 

          Who took advantage.

Radiate energy

         Make human connections

Ready to overrule

         The deluge of misinformation.

Stretch flesh and bone

                      Incredibly thin

Risk skin-pricks 

                      And bones that crack.

Keep breathing 

               Expand inside out 

Until your chest muscles

                                   cry out

Calculate for pain ?

Refresh your head with 

                       good Viking air

Exhale at the brink —

                        Don’t burst.

As the country ices over

                    In once civil spaces 

Watch your back 

                    Since states of confusion 

Breed crazy

                    Perceptions.

Confidence gets shaky 

                                  at eye level

Shock with dim recognition 

                       Etch lines of doubt 

In good citizen faces.

Your bubble

                 On horizontal 

Shifts vertical 

                 Your best flips inside out 

Turns radical.

Habits alter 

          Spheres of influence falter

To glimpse higher visions

            Requires better glasses.

On whims of viral winds

                      Ice pirates flew in 

Slip sliding through town 

        To clamp argument down. 

Ice blankets urban scenes 

                       In bellicose gear

War weapons for arms 

            Aimed at creating fear.

With unfriendly frowns

                      Loaded for bear 

They guard dicey ground

                Praise an idol of gold

Black coal eyes 

                See nothing but trouble

Point angry fingers 

                 Curse friendly neighbors 

Invent new crimes.

Perpetrate dread

             Scare innocent people 

Shoot a mother dead 

              For asking questions 

No sign of contrition.

On frozen streets travelers greet 

Peaceful comrades 

                Chant historic phrases  

Endure long winter nights

                Dance on thin ice

Skin sunburned 

                Raw and red

Wind chaffed cheeks

                Refuse to submit.

Strange times

            Call for loud protests

Thoughts on fire

            Minds who love rest 

Turned inside out

            Make time to speak

In freedom.

It’s flight or fight!

Stirred by nightmare scenes 

           Never dreamed serious

Somnolent brains awaken 

            To ugly conditions.

You wish a friendly snow

            To provide deep cover

Douse flames ignited by

                         Violent raiders.

Snowballs effects 

           Roll down Minnesota hills

An avalanche of courage 

              Drives out intrusions

Drowns obscene collusion

              And binary illusions.

A warm sun will rise

Burrow under storm clouds

                      As public bodies 

Assemble

                   in countless numbers 

Brave abuse with nimble cheer

                     To treat this pollution 

We march as one

                    Face certain collision 

Plan waste disposal.

May Minneapolis snow 

                 Silence this thuggery

Until spring melts

         Away dirt from the ravage of ice 

Washes streets clean 

         Into warm Gulf Stream waters

So blue ocean currents can 

                      Restore the good life 

Bring us back to our

                       Common senses.

THH

01/21/26

Keep it up — attack after attack —

Matters little who gets slaughtered 

Or blown to bits season to season.

Certainly less than the words you

might use to frame a reason.

Arrange your own facts. 

Stage your best scene, 

Polish your image, 

Be the hero, 

first act to last.

Tear up the people’s house 

Decorate with gold

Be first with the most-est

Always aggressive, and

Painfully boisterous.

Never make excuses,

Keep fighting back. 

Speak words that sting: 

Be loud, be plain,

In media range of social exchange.

Talk down to the dumb, 

the passive, the overly reflective,

and save a sharp jab for the inoffensive. 

Fire the ugly and disagreeable,

Bully the disliked, 

the outcast and weak.

Never forget your fans 

Be the accomplished showman 

Give them Las Vegas moments:

second rate singers

in skimpy costumes with 

plenty of cleavage,

accompanied by laughter

at mean pointed zingers.

Be completely outlandish

wrapped in the flag —

Praise the red, the white, 

and maybe the blue, and

At all costs hold center stage

Or threaten to sue.

Fly our colors — the ones we like.

Give free red Maga hats to 

favorite clans.

Use plenty of glitz,

with swaggering swingers

have a blast.

 

Tell the uninvited:

 go take a hike.

Surprise friends with smiling grit.

Throw outrageous parties, 

Add up the grift,

Grant a few pardons,

Never show mercy, 

Pass tax reductions

for the wealthy –

make them richer.

And should your gold star performance

Land in a ditch, 

Yell conspiracy, 

Call out your crowd,

Or if the three ring circus

Runs into a glitch

Say it’s horrible —

You knew nothing about it.

Soon your troubles will be forgotten.

With all your bravado you win every squabble.

Might even pitch the King of Sweden 

To award a new Nobel Prize, 

Named best in show 

for being so bold.

Keep stoking hate

Tweet ignorance and fear,

You might even escape your

well deserved fate

in the fires of humiliation

By self immolation.

01/07/26 thh

Ever think you would be so bold 

As to howl at the moon?

Step outside into winter’s chill, 

See the full moon glide through 

            wisps of cloud, 

Suck in night air, 

           and out of nowhere 

suddenly,

                let loose a loud ass howl.

It happens.

I’ve done it more than once —

I think it helped 

                     for a minute.

A shudder shoots up your spine,

Every nerve fires.

Fists shake. Arms stiffen.

Emotions quake, as a roar rushes out: 

Rage stoked by misfortune, 

      and stark anger at heavy losses,

hurt unlocked from grey matter cells —

A conspiracy brewed behind 

             a curtain of good intentions,

opens slowly to scary changes, 

        overpowers trained guards,

 forgets excuses.

The howl freed thoughts 

                    long unthought, 

released emotions hidden

                        deep in cages,

and painful moments 

                 long suppressed.

A werewolf unleashed

Under yellow moonlight

to prowl the night. 

Hungry and wary,

            he paws hard earth, 

                unable to speak, 

full of grief,

he stares at the mocking smile

                    of the man in the moon,

bares sharp teeth in bleak defiance,

 Lets out a blood curdling howl 

                               at his animal fate, 

 His howl a cry for relief 

Standing outside

           hell’s torn open gate.

THH

 12/21/25

An Aztec temple rises before me

steps steep as a ladder

Invites a climb to a faraway summit.

Steps so narrow no foot can rest on them.

A staircase without rails 

intimidates changes,

Inclines eyes to a high altar hidden in clouds.

Purpose hidden behind vaunted effort

No instructions given 

Mesmerized by distance you stare at the top 

Dare others take a first step,

Kid around at the bottom like children, 

jump with each other 

play a game of who will go first. 

You leap up a step refuse to look down,

struggle to walk standing up straight,

careful not to look at the ground 

fearing to fall 

Forgetting to wave

Aware your direction takes you one way.

You encourage yourself tempted with desire 

to learn the mystery resting out of sight.

In the back of your mind hope for honors abound

and a crowd’s humble attention pushes you forward.

The higher you climb reason goes blind,

but you keep moving your tired feet,

 afraid to seek rest,

convinced the quest will gain much wanted treasure 

or a discovery of something true and blessed.

Finally you reach the peak 

a stone table waits

bare of offerings,

a single knife awaits on the cold slab

And no one but you left to be victim.

No treasure 

No insight 

No prize

No praise for the feat of climbing

this dizzying height. 

A faint cheer catches your ear

Sounds like a victory chorus  

celebrating transcendence.

Difficult to interpret 

             harder to hear 

as you look back.

A festival of praise held at your expense, 

with revelries you recall of ancient wild dances

and all their passion long forgotten.

They sing of a hero who wrestled with God

A builder, a teacher,

A seer — found traitor of sacred tradition.

A celebrity who struck out on his own 

to gain a throne 

Ready to name every fear encountered 

and brave human fate

A sniff of air as the smoke ascends 

clears the mind for being here.

High on the cold slab of stone 

set up for worship 

You find no priest to wield the blade.

So you sit alone, enjoying for a moment 

the irony of your climb

  this hollow victory on a hallowed mountain

Not a crime but all your own doing.

Tears slide down your weary face

as you remember the climb

grin at your fate, wonder at exhaustion 

fall into a deep sleep at the altar’s feet

free of earth’s dust still incomplete.

THH

11/25/25.

On that day — deserve

               Earns no privilege;

Being in the know —

               Engenders no envy.

On that day,

walls built — to protect children 

from inclement weather,

display art for viewing pleasure, 

            reverence family memories,

or ancient prophets, while cannons

stay silent with nothing to defend.

Style attracts only gladdened nods

of appreciation for clever invention,

No special admiration.  

Titles that once bought respect —

go unnoticed.

On that day, embroidered robes of the

wealthy, worn to hallow entrance

at sacred temples gather dust.

Locks rust on unused hinges.  Doors stay

open on warm nights; porch lights scatter

the dark, offer heartfelt greetings to passersby.

Fresh baked bread cools on kitchen tables

    next to bowls of dates 

                    bursting with flavor;

Aroma of fine wine left to breath

              waft down neighborly streets.

Enchanted lovers gaze at stars,

pause to embrace, 

prefer a lingering kiss

to the taste of the vine.

Strange invites curiosity,

cultivates interest, dissolves fear.

New life sheds old skin —

           you wiggle out, 

                         stand up free,

walk naked under the sun.

Balmy air lures full hearts to spread

          butterfly wings and dance with

morning breezes.

Stripped of silky wrappings

                and sticky traditions,

 released from the weight

of old doubt and frenzied of questions,

you hold embodied gains lightly,

seek the wider wisdom,

                     wave good riddance 

to life in slavery,

give thanks for release.

On that fine day

      hunger for more recedes,

harvests yield abundance,

love incarnates every future

and gifts our green earth

with more than enough,

THH

11/10/25

Revised 12-30-25

Chill morning air

Thrills bare skin.

The echo of a train

           Rumbles old rails

                     Far in the distance. 

A long low moan

Lays down the bass

Rises in tone

whistles a warning

                  Trills a high note.

A background rhythm,

clatters through town on steel tracks.

My favorite companion sits beside me,

Quiet as dew, we watch and listen

            Slowness brews.

Want nothing. 

Enjoy the atmospheric transitions :

Thoughts curl under my nose,

Emotions take a nap.

With dawning awareness

Imagination peaks

plans for the best stretch thin.

 The sun melts shadows 

                     Time temps doing 

In this happy place

              Being commands

Holds space for healing. 

The first gray squirrel scurries down

The big oak tree

         Stands his ground

                    Tail up and unguarded,

Same as ever

         Signals constancy. 

The last hummingbird of fall

                             circles the feeder.

Two cardinals take wing and

          Silence sings.

THH

9/18/25

Revised 12-30-25

Palms of two hands press

                     on Mourning eyes,

Plead with the dark to extend rest,

         to hide from rising demands

of sun rays.

Outstretched arms above my head

Wave in empty space as in surrender.

Skin flaps embarrassingly loose.               

Wrinkles etched like the grain

In an old oak floor promises character.

A comic taunt in mortal light,

Makes a wish for a new finish.

I roll to my side, wheeze and cough,

raise up pissed. Reluctant eyes

record the stark: the persistent battle

to render adjustment to my

aging constitution.

      

Feet meet the floor, 

               Surprised by a sturdy stance.

Four steps to the sink; I catch a glimpse

of sleep’s bare renovation in the bathroom mirror. 

         Splash cold water on a numb face:

an intervention to awaken some sense. 

Familiar eyes query mine,

       peers out — a mirror for me. 

a gentle appearance,

earnest and longing,

two blue iris orbs or is it four?

Embedded in folds of skin wink at me.

Is this comic relief? A check on the who

and the whom — an interrogation of the

insider looking out or the outsider

staring in.

In the shower an old washcloth 

hangs stiff as a bone,

mocks my worry

as if standing straight should make all

the difference :

How did I make eighty?

Wrinkles and all?

Happily breathing,

Unprepared as I am

to deal with a fall.

THH

9/15/25

Revised 9/18/25

Revised 12-30-25

Stillness doesn’t take you one step forward or back,

      Has nothing to sell, nothing to earn; 

                  attracts attention 

                                           being still.

Stillness has no plan to control your mission,

No interest in recent history, 

                        or political position. 

But she insists anxiety be put on hold,

       forgo the fantasies of conquest, 

                           and drop vulgar passion,

       before granting you time.

Stillness holds space 

                 for your presence, 

                       keeps faith with your silence. 

Gives herself to those 

                         who seek solace, 

solicits no conversation, 

              never pries into secrets.

She lifts your spirit when your broken body

                   treads cold waters.

Stillness is the friend at your hospital bed,         patiently waiting for eyes to open.

She dresses casually on the off chance 

           you awaken with energy to dance. 

Stillness waits with indifference:

     Eyes the weather, 

             checks for lightning,

                    Opens no windows, 

                                    Closes no doors. 

Sips wine at the bar

                           where she lounges,

Saves a seat should you linger.

           Gives you the key to unlock her room, where she lights scented candles,

                                  draws the curtains,

Offers you time to engage vivid contemplation,

promises no revelation, 

                 or divine intervention.

 

A patient friend to all who seek her, 

      Stillness calms passions 

              revives the wounded spirit

avoids drowning.

THH

9/12/25

Soft downy wings

             feather the wind 

                          spread wide and strong 

             circle in silence.

Shrewd eyes peruse the ground 

                  Study fields of grass.

 Sails a breathless breeze,

            descends

                     with nimble purpose. 

                                            

Prays for prey to play peacefully on.

Talons out!

                

Snatch sharply,

                           Slays swiftly.

Big brown wings fan out, 

       regain lift, 

                 leap into the air, 

                                 leave not a trace.

The hungry victor clutches 

                                a hapless victim;

 Lands triumphant.

                        From a nearby limb,      

enjoys his supper,

                      Lord of his win, 

   

 Living by grace.

THH

8/4/25

Rev 8/6/25

Revised 8/15/25