Community Engagement: Poems and Artwork By Connie Vice

By Connie Vice

TIME BENDS

Time bends, says Einstein; 

less linear, less rigid, bent time? 

I like it! Releasing me 

from fixed time into avant-garde freedom. 

They say ‘time is all we have, 

who’s to argue. . .Einstein? 

Can time be imagined 

as a huge universal Double-Helix? 

Infinite spirals, deep 

communication between all time. 

Ever recycled yet new. 

Waving, rhythmic time, 

void of the harsh friction 

and burnt ashes of linear time. 

Gifted with that bending toward 

justice view of history; 

DNA does all its replicating, mutating. 

And just maybe the Universe 

throws out yet another paradox! 

And time is not all we have. 

FROM WHERE 

I’m from a place where 

the sidewalks weren’t flat 

challenging me . . . to float. 

I’m from a place where 

barns, creeks, trees, mailboxes 

called to me come see, look closer. 

I’m from a place where monkey bars 

roused the mountain climber in me 

and plank fences the tight-wire-walker. 

I’m from a place where 

mysterious and peculiar matters 

mucked the air, frayed the nerve endings 

A place uninhibited by helicopter moms 

opening wide the doors to wonder and wander, 

granting talents come forth!

THE LOCKSTEP DANCE 

Rhythmic highs and lows, 

pauses and inflections. 

Body language to punctuate 

righteousness and 

vitriol humor to disarm. 

Skilled in the drama we so love. 

How clever, how ingenious 

. . . how flagitious, how unimaginative. 

Indignation spewing, 

all aimed to divert from 

our better angles. 

The ugly finger of blame, 

ridicule, loser, buffoon, 

homely, weak. 

On and on, ever pointing 

toward “The Other.” 

Define “The Other.” Different race, 

different religion, different values, 

different blood line, different gender, 

different appearance, different party? 

Different! Different! Different! 

Oh my! Could I be or become “The Other?” 

Of course not, will not. 

Let me heed the call of the lockstep dance. 

It’s thunderous stomping chant 

will blockade my differences . . .myself. 

The beat, beat, beat 

of trusting no one. 

The beat, beat, beat 

of me first. 

The beat, beat, beat 

of deafness to nature. 

The beat, beat, beat 

of numbing fear and anxiety. 

The beat, beat, beat 

of boxed-in vistas 

The beat, beat, beat 

of life UN-alive. 

The price paid 

to never be “The Other.” 

Of course, thank God!, 

we are the other via the 

Universal connection of all.