Sample 1:

She asked why love feels so far away.

THE time we are in

We are deeply mental -

always thinking

and analyzing,

and lately,

things aren’t how they used to be.

We aren’t who

we used to be.

We are far away from “normal.”

We are coloring

outside of our lines -

and maybe with new colors.  

Being in new spaces 

can be curious,

or exciting,

or daunting,

or unstable,

and we might be called

to be bold and brave when

breaking beyond boundaries.

This time will surely

expand our minds,

and most certainly will

alter our hearts.

We sit in opposition to the heart,

at a point of tension,

and a vital decision

must be made.

We are called to 

align 

heart and mind

or…

let 

one 

win. 

Which would win?

Which will win?

We are 

dipping toes 

and eyes 

and ears 

and whole bodies

into new and 

“innovative” systems. 

We are 

experimenting 

with wild technologies, 

and we have 

yet to 

appreciate or innerstand

our own bodies -

the pure and divine

intelligence of 

fully and holy and wholly 

being ourselves. 

We barely know

ourselves

and we throw guesses

about truths

like sharp arrows.

Outwardly,

we are  

intentionally,

nearly forcefully,

divided.

Split -

over control 

over safety

over charity

over power

over humanity 

and policy 

and sovereignty 

and war 

and wisdom

and weapons 

and past 

and future

and self 

and values

and life. 

This is why

the heart feels so far away,

because

this is not love. 

This is ignorance.

Love is not felt here because

we were not born 

to find love here. 

We were born 

to make love here. 

PLEASE,

don’t go looking for love. 

That kind of search is endless.

It’s an exhausting mental game,

no match

for a surrender of heart.

So, make love. 

Make love -

over a meal -

over a moment -

over a memory. 

If love feels far away, 

consider it a direct call.

Bring it close. 

Pull it tightly to you

like a lover in sweet relief

and make love there 

for a very long while. 

Start there. 

Love 

you. 

- Jacquelyn Benjamin

Sample 2: This “poem” is one of several that speak to the connection between emotion and the physical body. Considering a full, small book of body work poems or writings?

TOXIC VIRTUES

I wish I wasn’t so loyal.

I wish I hadn’t made the best of everything.

Those rose colored glasses didn’t do me any favors.

Those “virtues” kept me stuck,

paralyzed, at times.

Always trying to analyze

how to reconcile 

my real feelings 

with the ones that 

made others see me as

a good girl. 

A good woman. 

A worthy woman. 

A Godly woman. 

All of that grinning and bearing it

left me with a tight jaw

and a hardened heart,

closed-off from others,

because after a long while

of holding things in,

there was no more space. 

No room for love. 

I built walls with my “virtues” -

so many of them 

I became trapped by them

in a semi-comfortable prison

custom-created

by me.

Sample 3:

I wrote this after doing three body code sessions on my 80 year old grandmother who has been a family servant for her entire lifetime. She had a difficult time with the sessions because the releases were palpable. She will never get the recognition she deserves, but I am honored to play a part in her relief.

USED.

I used to pride myself on making myself feel useful -

on making others lives easier so that I would be lovable.  

So that I would be wanted and needed.  

I built systems that focused on other people, and I took up so little of my own real estate that I hardly lived here at all.  

Never truly in my own body tending to my own needs, but always acutely aware of others. 

Anticipating on their behalf. 

Preventing their suffering and general discomforts. 

This experience of not being fully in my own body created pathways for me that I couldn’t see. 

All of that neglect and distraction distorted energy in my body and blocked spaces where love needed to flow.

It numbed and eliminated sensation where ecstasy could be, and hardened the parts of me that longed to be soft and held and nurtured.  

My inability - and sometimes unwillingness - to feel stifled all of that energy. 

Over time, the reservoir of pressure grew and the container will only hold so much. 

The release comes as an expression of discomfort or pain or distraction so severe that it’s captivating.

Demanding my attention, it begs,

“Look at this! Look at all of this that I’ve held inside. Look how much I am holding onto! Something has to go!”

A lifetime of build-up will be too uncomfortable at some point, so I am better off facing it now. 

As I become more willing to let go, my body cooperates. 

As I relieve the emotional pressure, my life and breath and heart expand.

Life and love sneaks in where numbness and hurt used to be.

That’s where I find me.

Finally.