Humanity

The Vessel

kikirosner

Close to Shore

She Yearns

Anchored in the Bay

She gently Rocks-

back and forth

the handling

hull scrubbing

commotion

Delays-

the Captain draws

long  breaths

leaning forward

into the Journey

Ahead-

everyday the comings

and goings intensify,

the Hesitaters

kick sand on the beach

looking at their feet

should I go or should I stay?

The volume rises, the pitch

Escalates

Anticipation Magnifies

Until one morning

the Bustle gone

we wake to an unsettling

Stillness,

peering across the Water

there She is

a shape in the distance

dissolving into the Horizon

while the sand kickers

continue shuffling

one foot to another,

She is on her Way

valiantly focused

on catching the Wind

in her sails

meeting each Wave

Evenly

Never to Return as She Left

*

Photograph by Nick Zungoli

Photograph by Nick Zungoli

Atonement

kikirosner

the lies we tell ourselves

Convince ourselves of

the white linings

we fabricate,

just a bit longer

Just until I reach This point…

like cards perpetually

Collapsing

Reassembled

for dear life

*

until one day

that flash of Transparency

in a heartbeat

*

the light Strengthens

consenting focus

the cards are gone

the linings

the lies are what they have always been

that Moment of Nudity

That

*

harder as time passes

and all the more Necessary

*

No blame

merely the simple Modesty

of our Tangible reality

*

Photograph by Nick Zungoli

Photograph by Nick Zungoli

Of Breath & Bones

kikirosner

I see you from my Distance

Watching those Steadily

Rise, as you have,

Observing them cultivate

Favor, all be it awkwardly,

mistaking  indispensable

Sincerity for

Brawn unwittingly

short-lived

 

Yet you, Continue

Plodding

Clear as to our Condition

Transparent too, as to that

Cellular make up

One which doesn’t Linger

One which doesn’t wait

 

you Smile at the Hubris

of young muscle

(your giving heart

has witnessed

so many)

 

Will they persevere

Upon hitting the Wall

of Time?

Will they, as you do

learn to Harness

Inner Strength?

Summon Might

Learn Beauty,

Power,

All Present

in the Adversity

of an Ageing body?

 

Or will they Break

Retire, knees and hips buckling

As they decline to Bend

to the Inner Sanctum

of Breath and Bones?

 

Art Work by Yaron Rosner

Art Work by Yaron Rosner

 

A T O M S

kikirosner

*

Particles, Infinitesimally Small

Bonding Repelling

Repeatedly

Creating Matter

As we know it

Us, as we Are

Matching Composition

Of Stars and all Manner of Life

Reproducing Endlessly, Dying

Disintegrating,

something else takes our place

Life Rolling Into Itself

Tirelessly

*

Can we stop a Moment

Take a look, Shudder

As we Marvel in the Redundancy

Of our Minds?

*

Why Are We Here?

*

Art Work by Yaron Rosner

Art Work by Yaron Rosner

On The Way To The Statue Of Liberty

kikirosner

I saw you the other day

mixed in a crowd of even skin

varied in pigment only

you Stood out

with skin like Applied parchment

a being of a different making,

a Visitor

those spiky bunions tell me

your hands tried so hard

to save you from the Inferno

****

You disappeared however

in the crowd with your even skinned

children, who accustomed to looking

at the tenderness of your soul

moving behind leather

see love in the inflexibility of your face,

no longer the pain

your Flesh so vividly remembers,

lets none of us forget

****

My vision branded

I do not recall the tall woman with the torch

****

Mixed Mdia by Yaron Rosner

Mixed Media by Yaron Rosner

Bodies From The Sun – Part II

kikirosner

To The Cirque Du Soleil

 

Your Body the Sun has kissed longest,

though finely tuned

the Bone has begun to Bend

the flesh around the still

precise muscle, has Thinned

shows its wear, Reveals

not only the Years of Prowess

but also the pain in achieving its Might

More human, more vulnerable,

certainly more beautiful

you have descended from those Heights,

Grounded by your gathered years and wisdom

you make us Laugh

 

that we could reach out

touch the Weathering of your tone

know the Stories in your Skin

Lillian Leitzel Aeralist 1882-1931

Lillian Leitzel Aeralist
1882-1931

The Skin

kikirosner

 

Skin, our outermost garment

tells our innermost story, reveals

Sins of commission and omission

shades of wax, a burdened liver

reds, an excitable heart

grays, worried kidneys

 

Art work by Yaron Rosner

Art work by Yaron Rosner

There are the hardenings of defense

the thinnings of despair

the wrinkles coarse and strong

or fine and effaced

 

Each line and hue

tells the story of its bearer

points to a history

of doing and undoing

 

There is no hiding

The Mysteries That Unite Us

kikirosner

Like the infinite air we breathe

the filaments of feeling

that bind us, entangle

one to another in a web

of unspoken vulnerability

bare beauty and at times

seething nonsense

Words that glue some together

watch others wander,

The glance one cannot leave,

the touch that commands

the stroke that calls home

The arresting content

of our togetherness, defined

by the simplicity of our needs

to love and be loved

Sincerely expressed

mysteriously carried out.

Ignacio & Christina

The Differences That Bring Us Together

kikirosner

the Differences that bring us together

such magnetic fields Inextricably attracted,

the similarity we recognize in the Opposite,

Implicitly knowing the Odd of our even,

the moments of impacted disgust

upon closer projection, indeed,

the hopeful ensuing introspection

and the Deepening, if chosen,

of ones feeling nature,

 

such a Lake upon closer examination

its Wealth unfathomable,

more than the marshy

Weeds and Muck that lace

our legs at first contact

the Depths of Inner lives

on the mysterious floor of the lake,

where we Sway evenly

composed of identical primordial longings.

 

it is in the manifestation of our Emergence

we differ, every return to the bottom

brings us closer, one to another

closer to our humanity Shared.

Tomahawk Lake Photograph by Nick Zungoli

Wrestling With Angels

kikirosner

Like Jacob and his deeper daimon

all Night struggling

until at dawn the Angel

relents, dissolving

into Morning Light

 

 

Nightmares bubbling

up from our unconscious lives

Banging at the door of Awakening

discomfort born of Resistance

a story to hear, a complaint to file

the hidden Tenant

of our innermost Basement

The cost of civil Disobedience

 

 

Was it an Angel Jacob,

or was it just a nightmare

you wrestling with a deeper

more numinous part of yourself?

 

 

Was it just a nightmare Jacob?

Is there a difference?

blurry sm feather