bones
Bones
The skeletons come dance for me
With stunning regularity
Clattering from their cloistered closet
So I can clearly, plainly see
How their boisterous, bouncing bones
Have crumbled inside to dull debris
For did I have more sense of self
There’d be far fewer secrets
Hidden on my wardrobe’s far back shelf
But without strong structure in my life
I’ve crossed boundaries better left uncrossed
And paid a pretty penny in spiritual strife
“I know it in my bones,”
Some people say with great conviction
But for those of us raised boneless
This cocky confidence
– “faith in oneself” –
Long ago fell to addiction
Addiction to the creature comforts
While our termite-gnawed timbers
We’d so nicely neglect
No brawny beam to balance pain-soaked roof
While scabrous skin self-flagellation
We’d prefer to perfect
Like amoeba recruits without strict orders
Our permeable flesh it has no borders
Flopping about
Like water balloons
We pray for a spine
But soon find we’re buffoons
Dancing around
Like contortionist clowns
Seeking commitment
And certainty
Firm foundation
And guarantee
But getting instead
The bone-crushing dread
That far from
Securing our solid center
We are but lowly
Month-to-month renters
Our hopes of settling into a comfy core
Are bum-rushed rudely out the door
The shaky scaffold that I thus try to erect
Around my black hole, each and every day
Is built fast and loose,
A poor excuse
For strong and home-grown
Vertebrae
For just like we’re given our inner flame
(Soon after we’re given our very own name)
So our sturdy internal frame
Is nurtured and constructed
With precision just the same!
Truly, this is no child’s game
Piece by tender, caring piece
Feet to ankles, calves to knees
Our portentous parents
(Whom we can’t elect)
Need fortify this edifice
So we can stand erect
For without strong bones
We’re pale copies, faded clones
No self concept
No clear zones
Boundary-less
And on our own
Not knowing where we end or start
Licking our wounded, fragile hearts
Not connecting,
Then, our goal
Our scoliosis
Of the soul
But Christ Almighty spare me this fate!
I’ll grow my girders before it’s too late
Substituting the fabrication
Of psycho/spiritual simulation
Filling in where forbears fell
Before I must ask for whom tolls the bell
So next time I see my skeleton dance
I’ll invite him in, taking the chance
That he’ll connect with my muddled middle
And hopefully, Oh hi diddle diddle,
Solve that really ridiculous riddle
(Of how we surviveLeading hollow livesUntil we learn to patch our own porous fenceRaise high the poles in our own deflated tents)Rebuilding these beautiful
battered bones… little by little by littlecontact me
Introduction to "Bones"
