Blog Archives

little fella

there’s a demon in my belly

just dying to get out.

well ok

in reality

it’s in my ribcage

pounding against my heart and

throwing itself against my lungs.

sometimes i can feel it’s

long

skritchy nails

stretching up toward my throat

trying to gag me –

to silence me –

to choke the life out of me.

so i drink a gallon of water

to try to drown him out and

flush him away.

little creep.

relentlessly he

comes crawling back to me,

threatening to

assault my body

and invade me again

if i as much as open my mouth

and breathe.

c. 2009 denelle hobbs

 

so very awesome … part 3

there used to be something in town called “the Clothesline Project”.  admittedly, i havne’t looked into it to see if this is a nationwide thing, or just something here in Lansing.  every year during the East Lansing Art Fair (held over by Michigan State University) the Clothesline Project would go up.  people would write whatever they wanted on tee shirts, or paint a picture, and then these shirts would be hung up for viewing.  most of the ones i saw were for empowerment or healing; people trying to deal with cancer or AIDS; someone recovering from alcohol or drugs; a victim of domestic violence or rape.  these shirts saying “I Am Powerful” or “I Can” or “Love Makes the Difference” – whatever the message, these tee shirts strung up on a clothesline had a powerful impact on me every time i saw them.

this art installation -though perhaps not empowering in the same way – is a beautiful piece of work, and at the point i have taken the pictures, it has withstood the weather beautifully.

these hands

i tremble when he touches me,

like a new born bird,

shy, and tender, and hungry with need…

and i wonder at this man,

as he touches my face with his gentle hands –

hands that are strong, and powerful, and masculine.

hands that could bring down another man,

or work the fields all day.

how can he channel such strength

and power and intensity

into such a tender touch?

and i long to nibble on his ear

and whisper to him in my best

kathleen turner voice

that i may need a lifetime to explore

this man

and these hands.