Reaching out beyond the dream of what you thought was real, spinning on this ball of life, head now under heel. Ready to die, to live this life so raw, alive on ledge- dancing, hurling, freeing your soul to finally stretch the edge.

Monday, June 29, 2009

The bloody portal

It's a three-vicodin day. It was going so well. Too well. But in one quick swoop, ambushed as if by an evil machete, down I went. I can't really say what hurt more; hitting the floor, the searing pain in my side, or the disappointing reality that I'm not getting better (yet).
Furbus was quickly at my side and this comforted me. He was sniffing around my mouth, probably hoping for some yummy crumbs, and then he tasted one of my tears. He looked so sweet that I reached out to pet his soft fur- only to have him sink his teeth into my arm and rip my skin open. What kind of an asshole bites the arm that loves him?
Laying on the floor was only going to fortify my pity party, so I did what any level-headed, positive person would do- I dragged myself into bed and pulled the covers over my head! The pain from the cat bite was throbbing, but the bigger deal subsided.
Last week's award-winning freak dreams were about a bloody portal and a kitten crawling under my skin. While laying in bed this morning I cried and why'd about things that hurt and confuse me, wondering if I'll ever understand. Or, to pose the really big question- will I ever be loved? Loved the way I want to be? Loved without condition or limit? With love that will outweigh ego and selfish need?
The funny thing is that what I know is born from my own needs. It was my own selfish desire to feel loved, that made me realize what I wanted and needed to give. It's not wrong to want love- it's what we're made for. It is so fortunate when we learn to give, and even more fortunate when we find another who wants to open their portal, and receive. It really isn't about getting what you want, it's about giving what someone else needs. And it doesn't even hurt.
Good night and sweet dreams!

Wednesday, June 24, 2009

Wide Open

So here I am
Arms wide open
Ready to hold you
There you stand
Thinking this through
What if
What if I fail you
What if we break
What if it’s not forever?
So there you are
Heart wide open
Ready to love me
Here I stand
Knowing only that we
Might be something
We’ve never been before
What if
What if it scares you?
What if we break?
So here we are
Eyes wide open
Ready to try
Here we stand
Ready to dive
Here we breathe
Ready to live
Here we dance
Ready to fly free
What if
What if we fall
What if
What if we are the dream?


Monday, June 22, 2009

Thursday, June 18, 2009

Tell me...



You want me to tell you what it is I see…

I see you, a breath of beauty

drawn from the summer’s warm breeze

You want me to tell you what it is I hear…

I hear you, a song so lovely

a heart drumming loud and clear

You ask me to tell you what it is I feel…

I feel beneath my finger tips

Your pulsing desire for me

You ask me to tell you what it is that I know…

I know that love is real

I see it, feel it, hear it, in everything you show

You ask me to tell you what it is I want…

I want to know







Sunday, June 14, 2009

Every dog's day

I had waited for Friday, for years. I had lived that day countless times before, like a recurring dream from which I’d never woken. But there I was, wide awake and finally on my way. I was nervous as a jack rabbit in a pound. At my side was that constant and undeniable force which I summon as needed, and today it was like an IV drip to which I strapped myself. My requests were peace and beauty. They are all that really matter once the day is done.
Railing down Kitty Canyon hasn’t gotten much easier these last few months. Today I saw beautiful flowers pitted against the red rocks. “Enough.” It wasn’t too long before I was pulling into the parking lot.
Armed with the ownership of the irrelevance of justice, wishes for “good karma,” and the peace which I had summoned, I glided through the metal detectors. I sat while waiting for my lawyer, re-living the heartache, heartbreak and horror that had brought me there. Last week I sent Satan's evil twin a letter reminding him of what we gave up for him and what we endured, and how he hurt us and then ran like a coward. I called him a coward. To this day and after losing love again, I still don’t understand why people give up on love. Why would someone throw it away and just leave? I asked him where his honor was. Then I asked him to use this opportunity to do the right thing while it was his choice to do so.
Karma is one of those concepts that I’m not sure I buy into. I do believe that when you set “good” free into the universe, it multiplies and enriches, as badness defiles and festers unto itself. But really, does a “bad” person ever pay a price for what he does? How can he if he has no conscience? Isn’t the remorse that you feel your very penance? Isn’t the joy in giving or doing, your shining reward?
He arrived and looked as slick as he knew how to. I was wearing some worn out pants and an old jacket. My heart sunk. Not because I missed him. Not because I didn’t have something spiffy to wear, and not because I was afraid to lose. There was that all too familiar knowledge that someone that I had loved so deeply, just didn’t care about me anymore.
Just twenty minutes into this morning’s walk I started to shiver. I was soaked to the bone. The mist was so much thicker than it appeared from my balcony. The drops were as visible as rain. Looking down at Poochi who was drenched and wearing mud-colored boots, his sad and sweet eyes searched mine for an answer. Yanking his chain suddenly, I reminded him that we needed to keep going.
A little while later we were closing in on home when the morning’s light began to awaken the brightness in the sea of white-faced weeds. These were the same “flowers” which I had admired on Kitty Canyon as they contrasted the moisture-drenched and deeply colored green of that morning. They were so starkly beautiful, making me wonder why weeds are so despised.
Friday morning’s surprise came when he offered to make things right. It had been years since he looked into my eyes with anything other than disdain. But that morning his pale blue eyes were gray and his chin trembled as we spoke. He gave me what I had asked for, and then I gave some of it back.
As the warmth of those weeds saw me through this morning, I was grateful beyond measure. All of the sudden Dave started wailing about hammering his final nail and leaning up against Jesus. So I danced with him. A rabbit ran across our path and Poochi went after it. I ran with him for as long as I could, but then I had to let him go. After a few minutes of uninhibited sniffing and chasing, he came back to me with no prize. I kissed his sopping muzzle and then he and I ran home.