heartbeat matching the dhol thumping pounding like feet stamping in unison
sweat beading on my face, breath shallow and short in anticipation,
lean forward, not enough screen for my eyes to drink in the event
thoughts cascade
how can they do that? how can so many strangers fit on that platform without falling? dancing waving their turbans, banging their heads, twitching in time,
footsteps pounding still,
Thump thump
words I don’t know, can’t know, but familiar from other songs
man’s voice drops down, conspiratorial whisper, speaking of wearing his love like a charm, a way to keep her heart with him at all times
he kisses his own hands and touches his cheeks in reverence for the love so spiritual for him
head bowed, eyes closed the music seems to pause even as
Thump thump, footsteps marching still
Thump thump
song swells, man bursts with his proclamation of devotion, strange to this American as his climactic moment is singing about friendship, not lust
arms thrust to the sky, train swiftly moving still all around him lift their arms in agreement
A song, a video, a movie, a dance…. all this is playing out before me on Youtube. This piece, clip, part, excerpt plays and the past unfolds…
being pregnant and chair-bound, watching videos for new music,
stunned, elated, tears of joy
Holding onto my chair, trying to dance in my ninth month because the rhythm will not be denied
TURN UP THE VOLUME LOUDER LOUDER LOUDER
suddenly my boys, teenagers all, are with me, writhing and hopping in their gangly gawky way
but elation from me becomes frenetic haste in them
we jump in unison
Thump thump bare feet stamp a beat that threatens our poor carpeted floor
Thump thump
all together, so rare for us, nearly desperate to push the feelings out of our bodies and into our feet
words are mouthed with the notes even though we know nothing of the language
English, for my boys, is no less mysterious, syllables to trip over in attempts to reach out to other humans
music sounds beckon like a crooking finger in front of a revolving door
THUMP THUMP heart slamming along until there is no discernment of time, of bodies, of separation
together all four of us jerk, twist, nod and shake out all the connection we cannot put to words in our quiet moments of mundane life
THUMP THUMP is the chant of our feet as video plays forgotten
nothing but the music, the unknown syllables turned to one more instrument to flick our attention to
man and woman, voices tease each other, nearly touching in their words and tune, wrapping around each other like caduceus – separate but climbing upwards, ever upwards
break in the song twinkles with promise, the beat sits behind different movements
unevenly other sounds move forward, retreat,
man’s voice breaks in like peeking through curtains
surprise again as woman’s voice answers the man once, only once and together they continue their spiral towards climax
But we can’t stop now, our bodies are not done,
I click “repeat” before anyone can move
and the keening of the start soothes our firey nerves, stopped too soon
introduction done, we resume our consensual march
Thump thump, family soldiers we are, building an intimacy so elusive there is no name for it now
The Moon is a woman and so am I
Different faces to different viewers
Sometimes shining, glowing, turning
Other times cloudy, scarred and scary
We move through the emptiness that is void and fearful
Without once looking, planning or choosing decisively
The path seems familiar, set and sturdy
but every night it flexes, bends and gives
I am a woman and so is the moon
A process unfolding for all to see
At times dissolving, always evolving
Proving that every change has two doors
We share stardust in our atoms
Something that gives hope and despair to know
All my trials are not new
For that globe, that rock, that cold lifeless stone
Has so much greater history
The woman in me is the moon
Fullness within and mystery without
Like the phase I move through,
Murky and moody until it envelopes my world
What I carry in me is only potential
That reflects what the moon cannot give
Did she give it up somewhere in the shaping of this world?
Are there enough romantic notions to tell that story?
What else is it that draws us together?
The shine, the coldness, the potential
Could create fear, longing, love
and that is the connection I feel
That beginning, that grand split that shows the essence of creation
Because I can give life, nuture life, and dream of the future so easily
While the moon can only remind me
of all that was sacrificed to create everything I see
when I look up
feel a vacuum inside
not know what to use to fill it
try something different
ache
think of it as pain
think of it as lack
think of it as sadness
think of it as anger
wish hope dream
find things distracting
hate distraction
love distraction
find it all too petty
roam around
touch inside
find a place, a part, a feeling
something good, something comforting
watch it go away
hurt, ragged edges bleeding from a scar not ready made from before
watch yourself tear it up
look away again
the tickle of it sliding away from the source
you should wipe it up, clean it up, close it up
hide it away
until there’s no reason to ache anymore
no comfort
no healing
no end it seems like
talk to yourself
convince yourself
make plans, close doors, wrap yourself up tight
constrict yourself against the future
you know better than that
constriction becomes death
aching is still living
confusion is still thinking
anger is still feeling
something is better than nothing
stop
swim
float
be carried along with the void
let it bring you somewhere different
let it remind you of what you want
what you want is part of who you are
how many reminders do you need?
they all point towards you again
even though the world does not revolve around you
the world IS you
live through it
grasp something on your way out
stick it on your mirror
so everytime you look at your memory of the pain, the anger, the confusion,
the ache
you’re looking at yourself
and you know that the existance of it
proves you’re still you
smibbo 