Paul by Wednesday Hobson

 

I cannot muster effort enough

to show what is and unspoken there

what little deserves and overly qualifies

a human to which I am particular.

 

There is a body:

made of sinews, contrasting with elasticity –

his rubberband arms and legs

cinnamon facades made for over-ambiguity –

preserving a heart perpetual pumped

this made of gears and specialized and goo

and rhetorical quips lighting globes,

strengthened tendons stand out

that perversely perform clarity

that he is fulfilled

to a simplicity.

A body.

But this is not enough

to show what human is

and mechanical is not, and

therefore I do an injustice to

A soul:

his strength is green briers filled with enduring

cups overflown with grins remorse

and woven strands of lives put past,

the roar of a motor in a desert light,

he takes what individual mocking birds

call out for: shooting hopes in stars,

brisk of night and fresh rainfalling

cloverleaf dances under moonlit

oceans, given to exotic anemones

and prideful strides.

This is maybe his soul.





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Wednesday Hobson is a new student to Antioch University, and is in the process of obtaining her B.A. in Liberal Arts. Wednesday has never delved into the realm of poetry submission before, and is ecstatic for this opportunity to do so. Wednesday's latest work was held in Santa Clarita's SCV Space Theatre, where her two-act adaptation of Bram Stoker's Dracula was performed.