The Body Poem Project: Listening to my body

Listening to my body

Listening to my feet: Each toe talks.

The pads and the heel have things to say.

Crooked ankles, accused of thievery, protest.

Every part throbs and wakes me.

Silent, sleep punctured by pain.

I see mandalas of pink turning flowers.

Turning like my lower intestines.

Hunger rising into my upper throat.

Weariness lying like a lap dog upon me.

Crooked elbows, called criminals, refuse.

Lotioning stiff fingers and dry hands.

I feel nothing soothing, no soft vanilla shush.

Listening to my whining stomach

Chakras wavering and displaced.

Today, my heart beats within my head.

Listening to each half caught breath.

Feeding for position.

I breathe only partially down.

Today, stomachs squish and and eyes moan.

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Shel Graves' Sensorium

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