Just wrote this about an hour ago. I am not sure yet what I meant, but I like the way I tried to say it.

Lost in Translation

We are sometimes like the Codetalkers,
scrambling the circuits of our enemies
by speaking in the native tongue,
the sound full of clarity and relevance
but so much noise somehow,
incomprehensible babble, and silly.
The words swirl in the air
a shaft of smoke and cloud
ricocheting off the bruised skull
leaving the scalps dangling
as they fling themselves like
abandoned eagle feathers
their ancient chants a mute echo
limbs flailing in a forgotten dance
the bodies rocking with
a feeling I can no longer name.

This was from last month. I forgot about it. It was scribbled on the back of a receipt. Gee…guess I should balance my checkbook more often…..


Movement

The skin of the torso is warm
when pressed against the cheek
flesh moving in time
up and down, with the breath,
rising and falling
gently bending the resting neck
drawing up the hands
with each inhalation to
the coarse springy hair
that curls like a sigh
around the fingertips
and lost whispers
of secret thoughts exhaled.