27/30 Poems in November: Truth

day-6Kitchen-table revelation
we can change our minds
we can change our thoughts
we can get up
and turn down the heat
when the room gets too hot.
Truth is kitchen-sink
everything but that.
Truth is mad smacking
can’t change the world
just like that
one little voice
in the clanking universe.
Truth is forehead-smacking
honest inquiry
arm’s length and speak
your mind girl.
Truth is big love
and the empty sink
means nobody is eating.
Truth is kitchen table
strewn with papers
not one of them
life changing.
Truth is smack-dab
in the middle of chanting
some one-syllable name
for God you were gob-smacked
by your own foolish heart
and saw that it was time
to stop blaming yourself
for everything
that didn’t go as planned.
Truth is
you didn’t think
ahead
for once were in the moment
and in the moment
you knew what you wanted
needed and you asked
and received
and how we live
with the consequences
of cowardice and courage
may weigh the same
on the kitchen scale
and the karmic scale
and the scale that weighs
hearts and bones
and doesn’t judge.
Truth is kitchen trash
can overflowing
so cinch up the bag
and take it to the bins
in the garage,
take it to the landfill
take it to the streets
take it to heart
when you made up
your story
and declared it to be
true.

27/30

**

Q: What is #30poemsinnovember?

A: A literary fundraiser for Center for New Americans in Northampton, MA.

The Center for New Americans welcomes and serves immigrants in Western Massachusetts with free English classes and a range of support services. Participating poets aim to raise $30,000 over the course of the month.

Writers do their part by writing one poem each day in November. Friends and family do their part by donating to support this effort. Powerful new poems and financial contributions translate to community support for immigrants.

I’m just $140 away from $500. Help me reach my goal.

No Matter What

This stellar swarm is M80 (NGC 6093), one of the densest of the 147 known globular star clusters in the Milky Way galaxy. Located about 28,000 light-years from Earth, M80 contains hundreds of thousands of stars, all held together by their mutual gravitational attraction. Globular clusters are particularly useful for studying stellar evolution, since all of the stars in the cluster have the same age (about 15 billion years), but cover a range of stellar masses. Every star visible in this image is either more highly evolved than, or in a few rare cases more massive than, our own Sun. Especially obvious are the bright red giants, which are stars similar to the Sun in mass that are nearing the ends of their lives.

This stellar swarm is M80 (NGC 6093), one of the densest of the 147 known globular star clusters in the Milky Way galaxy. Located about 28,000 light-years from Earth, M80 contains hundreds of thousands of stars, all held together by their mutual gravitational attraction. Globular clusters are particularly useful for studying stellar evolution, since all of the stars in the cluster have the same age (about 15 billion years), but cover a range of stellar masses. Every star visible in this image is either more highly evolved than, or in a few rare cases more massive than, our own Sun. Especially obvious are the bright red giants, which are stars similar to the Sun in mass that are nearing the ends of their lives.

No matter where you are tonight. No matter what you’re going through.

No matter how busy or bored, confused or tired, pissed off or content.

No matter if you’re grieving or celebrating, wound up or unwinding,
healing or crumbling, discovering or forgetting
or sitting in that place where these meet that has no name.

No matter if you’re hungry, full,
or consumed by some unspoken craving.

No matter if you’re satisfied or searching.

No matter if you’re scared or in denial or facing the facts.

No matter if you’re home or away,
here, there or neither here nor there.

No matter if you’re alone or surrounded, or surrounded yet alone.

No matter if you’re playing games on your phone or watching Netflix
or reading a book or trying to stay awake at work
or tucking kids in or wishing you were somewhere else
or unable to sleep or deep in a dream.

No matter what, I am so glad that we get to be here on the planet at the same time. I mean, what are the odds?

Billions of years, billions of people. And here we are. Here we are.

#biglove

What I Mean When I Say “Big Love”

9-fried-potatoesI was frying potatoes.
Contemplating the meaning of life.
For real, I am not making this up.
Feeling small. Ponderous.
What is my message?
What is my purpose?

And then I stirred the potatoes.
They were dinner for my wife
who can eat 14 things now,
including water and salt
and sugar and coffee,
rice and chicken
and oats and organic Gala apples
and blueberries, boiled,
and whole milk and best of all
butter. Also seltzer and Pom juice,
her new elixir of choice.

And I remember when it was only rice
and Coke
and she was losing weight and scaring
us both and everyone else
and someone asked if she was dying
and I went crazy in my head
at the question, which I knew was
not unreasonable given her rapid
precipitous decline but still could not
hear, could not accept, could not bear
when everything in me was existing
to keep her here and help her live.

So frying potatoes, you see,
really did have me contemplating
the meaning of life, and the meaning
of survival, the meaning of joy,
the meaning of thriving, the meaning
of healing, the meaning of marriage,
the purpose of loving, the message
of resilience, of learning how to give
and of learning how to receive,
of being forced so far out
of our comfortable roles
that we both had to grow
into bigger, more complete humans.

And in the growing, so much became
available — poems and dreams
and going all the way into the dark
that we wouldn’t let claim us
and seeing each other
there, eyes lit by eyes
and hearts by hearts
and knowing
that to be given another chance
is nothing to sneeze at or spit at,
nothing to miss even a minute of
to self-pity or regret or doubt
or envy. We get to be here.

That’s it. That’s my purpose.
That’s my message.
We get to be here.
And if it’s not working for you,
change something.
Because you can.
Always.

Sight Unseen

rainWhen we stood by the window,
water pouring from the sky ,
when the hot water from the tap
cracked my skin,
when we had to strain to hear
the faintest rhythm drawing in,
covered by the sounds of water
outside and inside
so that we wondered,
would it wait for us
or would we be too late,
when we spent the whole morning
and into the afternoon
in bed, shades drawn, rain
syncopating on skylight, reading
whole worlds and then
the downstairs door clicking,
when we didn’t know if our luck
was slipping in after a wild night out
or heading out into the warm
winter day,
when we held each other, hoping
maybe but mostly not, mostly not
thinking any of these things
(except of the Syrian boy who hadn’t eaten
for a week and wanted “just a sweet,” 
and what we’d read about North Korea
and H-bombs 
and propaganda
and that book about the Nazis
and the playgrounds of Chernobyl,
the past 
rushing up so ruthlessly 
that the news, the novels, all of the words 
might have come with chokeholds 
around the necks of children, 
our children, and a prayer went up then–
mine and hers, though neither of us spoke it
as we lay ourselves down to sleep–
please let them be with us, 
let them be home if it happens, 
when war comes too, to our houses).
No, of these we did not speak
when we turned out the yellow light
and then the white,
when day brightened just enough
to signal morning but the sun
kept us guessing,
something we’d have to buy
into believing sight unseen —
these were the times for what
can only be called Big Love
and the Holy Yes to being
vessels for what we cherish
and came here to name, to know,
to meet head-on
that would have us deciding
what to keep out and whom
to invite in,
when our hearts
were ready to lay down
their arms, ready for battle
with the only weapon
they’d never see
coming.