In Praise of Hands

March2

That they are slaves.
That each tendon’s a rope
and the knuckles are pulleys.
That their white bones
line up like pieces of broken chalk.

They are bound by flesh
as leather around a Bible.
That they dance and write
in air the story
of what is lost, what is gained.

That they are soldiers
cut and bleeding, a link
to the heart’s kingdom.
That they are so beautiful
a moon has landed on each finger.

That they are trained
for harps and hired for murder.
That the cuticles are shaped
like soft horseshoes.
They contain rivers.

That the ring finger’s shyness
suffers when gripped by the powerful.
That the palm yields to blisters
and wears the calloused rags
of repetition.

That they are mythical
with their lifeline’s hieroglyphics.
That they struggle
because of their great strength.
They are able to heal themselves.

That they know what it means
to draw the water
and work without pay.
That they will hide our eyes
and pray for our sins.

That they may life the hammer
and lead our bodies to grace.
That they will make a print
like no other
until they wave goodbye.

~ Jeanne Bryner, nurse poet

printed in The Poetry of Nursing 

 

Stockroom

July28
Nurses stockroom
Akin to carpenters workshop
Tools of the trade
Pregnant expectant of next disaster
Silent days nothing disturbed
Code red comes tossed from bin to bin
Their twins miss them their triplets wait to be of use
Boxes stacked little words
You may miss
The most obvious item
Back of the closet
Second shelf
Straight on til morning
Pyramids of cubes
Small larger tiny
Stacked higher than they ought
Building blocks Children’s toys
Almost but not so
Womens toys tools
Manipulating salvation
Calming minds
Tools of the trade
Pregnant expectant of disaster
Hoping, ready.
Silent days nothing disturbed
Code red comes tossed from bin to bin
Their twins miss them
triplets wait to be of use
When will it be my day.
Boxes stacked little words
You may miss
The most obvious item
Back of the closet
Second shelf
Pyramids of cubes
Small larger tiny
Stacked higher than they ought
Building blocks Children’s toys
Almost but not so
Womens work
Calming minds
Manipulating salvation.
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Protest

March21

Dark road or perhaps mood
He walks
Stick over shoulder
This is no yes man
Debating passionate
Determined in step
Holding tightfisted
A sign
It’s words – fierce – STOP
Proclaiming injustices.

Watch then the shadows cross
Bold words move out of reach
Not in time not held
By Conviction bound
Light returns to
No green expanse, slips away
returning as dark country lane –
dreams are fickle beings
A man may feel
But a man must hold.

myAdrienne2 Protest
posted under blog, poetry | No Comments »

Natalie Merchant merges poems with music

March13

Ever since finding this particular TED talk, I’ve played it repeatedly and happily find myself singing their memorable choruses. It’s been fifteen years since I discovered Natalie and I still love her voice.

and now you can buy her new album with these songs and more!

http://www.nataliemerchant.com/l/leave-your-sleep

posted under blog, music, poetry | No Comments »

from pocketknife to USB and sometimes both

July22

on a red bookshelf nightstand
a few nights before we were to move into a home with central air
i woke in a humidity daze
and noticed my husband’s pocketknife
resting peacefully beside his USB drive

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