Dear Sweet Man,

I need to be
where
"we" won't be
broken
in each other's dreams

"Life is a lot like an answering machine..you only have so much time to leave your message."

As I frantically clamber to find mine...
We never know how much "life" is left, and the more time that we spend worrying about whether we're wrong or right is time wasted as we choke off the beauty of being. So while I burn up these fleshy remains, let that fuel be in the honor and reverence of all that I encounter. "Life" is not this flesh, it is this beauty of being love by always doing or being, our best.

May we live with the fury of the burning, dying sun.

What's the point of living if you're not living as if you were dying? 

WAKE UP!

#callme

What do you think?

I
am no more important than you.

Your
children are just as wonderful as mine.

Oh
your pain is lovely on you.

We
are lighting each other's ways.

How you love yourself is how you love the world.

h.dumpty

Is it
only the broken heart
that knows truly,
the depth of Love?

Oh wait, maybe I meant broken open...

Sexy
is baring your soul, not your body.

Blowin it

Each
is just another moment
preparing you for the next

Don't
waste this one on that
which does not feed your soul

Be with it

perfection

We were all born someone's dream of love and perfection.
Some of us broke quickly
some wear that weight down

Some come back

Some need a little help out

Triple Time

Feel the something beautiful
lick it til it's raw with desire
ready to conquer anything.

This is winning.
But it's not for the win. No, never a need.
Being with your biggest love, only as it is.

You are beautiful.
One sentence, word, a single sound
we cross the sensed boundaries, into the laurels of youth again.

Undenied.
Unfettered.
Ecstatically alive...


"Hey, he said, 'Grab your things, I've come to take you home'."

(My heart went boom, boom, boom)

idkwtct

Let it wreck you

until you don't care to fight it,

anymore

You get used to it

then it doesn't hurt so much,

anymore 

You learn to feel

in spite of what it will take from you,

nevermore

the other side of life

no longer from the rusted laurels of my squandered youth
do i seek to hide amidst the withering leaves.
does youth end when death shows you its soul,
or is that just the way it rises, to finally begin?

New men

Love me, and let me love you.

We’ll come and go, but

Linger long and longingly, when we do,

Unabashedly bowing to the light of me,………you,……….we.

I say “me” first for you and me, the we, are me and

you know that. With you I am free to start

My sentences with “I” because you always know

Just what we mean.

Thank you.

Thank you for seeing the love in every heart,

Light in every star,

Every one of my heart’s beats within the pounding of your own.

(Here I sleep peacefully, knowing your love cannot mame.

Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.)

I need someone to help diffuse this overload

Of love and light

Before I swell so big I burst,

Or fizzle into etheric bliss

Come love me, and let me love you.

You should love me and let me love you. Y'know...if you want to. I'll be hoping you do. I think you want me to.

What is god? I don't know, but I suspect it is a collective wonder of every heart.  Maybe we are god when we learn to be love in spite of this flesh and most certainly, because of it. We bow to this numen, this choice to live in love.

Preguntas?

What if I knew that TRULY loving myself
means
that I truly love ALL of the world
and
honor EACH and every one of them
with
KNOWING that they too, are love?

The root of all Ego

What is it about anniversaries of grief-inducing events; freeing us with every hard swallow, into the glorious healing hands of acceptance?

At first it might be minutes since, 
but then hours, days, weeks, 
months, seconds, milliseconds, years
cause pain eternal in every single moment

Wait. What were you wearing?
I don't think I said good bye.

Wait- I need to know now so that
I can remember you (as if I had
taken the time to be with you-
the way you always asked me to,)
and imagine you just as you were
when you walked through the gateway, so Glorious.

What if you go to heaven and I go to hell?
Would you write and tell me 
what it's like down there? 

What if we switched places,
this time knowing
always knowing what it is to love?

It doesn't matter anymore, I know.
But I know, now, how much you mattered
and that you wore your long red dress
which dripped your blood in a circle around my feet.

(I'm so sorry 
I never saw 
you bleeding)

I smeared my finger through the puddle
and wrote your name across the sky
For You are why I love...

something else

We are what we are
every ill and in spite of

We come in pieces
to make peace in this soul

We will become
every bit of each other

When we learn to let it grow

Something

It's all just
water
under the bridge, now
Water,
it has got
to flow
Or else
it ripens
stagnant sludge

let it go
let it flow
we got this

Med.itate

Lay on me your heavy
let me bathe in its newness
its ripeness and its fullness
let it lift me up
and make me something
more than I had thought
to ever think to be


breathe it in...

Mr. Write

I never run out of words.
Well, sometimes I guess, it would seem that I do
when I go on in silence for days
The thing is that in these times the
noise is deafening in my conscious and aware
element of self; so
I have no wherewithanything
to utter a sound from my mesmerized mouth
Until my heart asks of what I dream
through the nights and days
It answered, it was the kiss that enchanted both my
body and soul with just one touch of love's lips to mine
I'll wait in quiet for I cannot shout his name;
for Love,
the true god,
simply cannot be tamed with words

Free falling

You are so beautiful
beyond your plump lips
and sumptuous wit
Radiance shining
wider than that brightest smile
brilliance unleashed
Unaware of the crowd
thinking this or that, so foolishly proud
cuz you, You live in love, every time you laugh, or cry out loud

Like raindrops quenching my withering tongue
in the midst of the late afternoon's desert rain,
Where earth and water  become one and the same
Every time You fall, I will rise to be with you

It's a beautiful morning

In the middle of morning’s fog

Shined night’s light on the darkened pond

     beauty only, pierces  the silence

This spray of may, come what might

May not be what we hoped to like

       L i s t e n . . .
     only darkness becomes the morning

Rest, it's peaceful

Some raindrops fall lightly
even in the midst of a storm

Paint the thunder and
brand the lightning

Be a monsoon until
each tear drop falls as it will

Aqua aura

 Wish I may, wish I might...

Let not my heart be weighted

Nor my love be blind or shaded

If my light be sadly faded

When love comes once again, fated,

Knocking at my door

May two fiery souls’ union

Come to me none too soon then

With a blessed and warm reunion

Of one soul's unabashed communion,

OH, LOVE! I hear you calling me

Welcome to this world

Nothing.

Nothing is perfect.
Yet everything is beautiful
in a different angle,
another time,
shining in a light or
hiding in its darkness.

We are.

Everything.
There is no you or we or me
in this thing or that place;
we have all been there and here,
loved and hated this, for all
of eternity's measures.

It is all.
Part and parcel of
each molecule of air we breathe
which has been born and breathed before
by angels and demons, one and all...
We are just stardust of collective light


Which shall
be breathed again and again
as we sail through the
darkened channels,
quickened by one
endless stream of love

The new moon

Last night I asked the angels

to show my love to me

to bring me to his splendor

awakened in my dream

Perched on the edge of a thick white cloud

I spread my wings and while calling out

you heard my song and then you came

and we danced across the sky

til

Morning's glory gently woke me

from my soft, green grassy nest

but she dared not take from me,

you, my greatest awakening

So I walked the path while the whispered

pleas wafted to me from the trees

The words, unclear, I could not hear

yet I knew they spoke of you, my dear

 then

 I ran through the streets

of this big, scary city

searching for you

in every nook and cranny

Scanning the faces of

each one in the masses and

Holding my breath til

each soul by me, passed

now

 I wait tired in the light

on the corner in the night

Oh angels, hear my prayer

One more time- please take me there

Stunted

I write what I write
whether it's right or wrong

I fit words that don't rhyme
into every damn song

I hear pounding between
the beats of your drum

In every day, minute and hour
we're so different, yet one

So why do you tell me
that I'm doing it wrong when

Your rigid desires deny you
the beat of our song

Resurrection

We are made and broken
a million times over
til we can't see through
these tears, this pain

Is this me, dying
or just a glimpse
of what
I am yet to be?

Touch me
with your cold hand, Death
so that I won't feel
this burning anymore

The ABCs

Shame is slippery
and guilt is heavy

Love is what sets you free

Open  your  heart.

Timeless

I wonder how many tocks have ticked on my clock
while I stared listlessly past the sky

Do you think of the days that have scratched in the wall
while eternity dashes across the sky


Timeless is love that weights for this moment,
holding it up to the light

Just another day

Each time
he

f
e
l
l

he
dug in
a little
deeper
but
each time
he
climbed back
up
he
ROSE
a little
higher

spring is here. wake up, sleepyhead

No hablo this mess

What is this infatuation with enlightenment? If you're running after it, trying to grab it, giving it a name or a face; you're just missing it altogether.

How can you be "in the moment" if you're just waiting for the next moment, a better moment, a better time, or for goodness' sake-Friday? Enjoy the messiness of you as you are now, knowing that if you do your best, something "better" might just come of it. Or maybe it won't and being right here, right now, in the thick of some ickiness, is okay. 

We can't stop time or doing, being or happiness; we can only choose to be with the wonder in every feeling, situation, or being; whatever that looks like.

A controlled burn

...if we keep running from it
It will never be with us

...if we keep hiding from it
We will not see what we are
or what we may become

...if we turn away from this
We will not be ready
nor more learned
Let us be unraveled a little,
to tie It all up again
should we foolishly name it

...or we can walk gracefully
through It
...or sit by the seaside letting
it wash over us
and be one with what we've
come to know:this ache
which scratches and bleeds us
until we cry out in pain

...be with It
your pain is your guide, blood and salve
washing you clean
...forgive it
you are your own jailor
...for now you know pain and
what you have done to others

Your purgatory has been ravaged by the fires of this hell

...be with It and set yourself free

Toast and jammed

There's a certain amount of strength in letting go, whether it's abandoning your fancies of being normal and flitting into madness, or surrendering to a good old-fashioned beat down by life. Why do we always want to hold onto normal, creating some facade of decency and goodness? How will we ever get better and become divine in spite of our flesh, if we can't dance with our trembling legs? Broken hearts? Diminished spirits?

Hiding from yourself and all of your glory, is like hiding from G!d. What's the point in that? Let go. Slip into the madness and see what bubbles up. It might not be what you expected. It might not be what you wanted. But it will be real.

My ninth life

it was a long road back
to "gone" again
and yet I'm here,
"never again"

there's a bird in the tree
sounding like
rubber twanging "meow"
on the faint, sun-stained pond
as he carefully chooses his dinner

melting into evening
I evaporate one last time
before the night awakens,
to bring me home once more


#yourekillingme

Implosion

This is that moment
the one I've seen in pictures
a million times inside my head

When I watched the ducks
the other day, gliding as if even
the disappearance of air could not free them more

They cried. I heard them
But I didn't know if they were
cries of pain or whimpers of surrender's pleasure

The only question in my mind
came from my heart when I demanded
to know their names

(What do you love, dear Laura?)
(Why must you name your pleasure?)
(Why must you name your pain?)

That is how it feels when love comes
And how it feels when love walks away
When you can open the door of your own heart

And wrestle with the pleasure
and fervently fuck the pain
all the while, feeling it all...

Knees knocking, heart thumping so hard
it pulls everything into its drain
And I get dizzy, wondering if I'm going to fall

But I'm here, Knowing what I Know
The wandering wonderer succumbing to wondrous
As she turns to let you go

It's like that moment, the one I've seen in pictures
There's a flash of light, separating every piece from every other
and then the building crumbles, and every question flees

Here's a poem for you...

You preach redemption, salvation and enlightenment;
but how do you know this is true?
Your heart has changed so much through the years;
your rules and affects too.
You keep spouting out loud, barbs at the crowds,
because you, alone, have the right to be proud?
Tell me, King, cuz you alone know everything,
How is anyone 'not you' going to win?

Shut the fuck up!

The coffee pot

There is nothing to hate but fear

Fear is what has landed us in

this place where it felt as though it mattered

This worrying about what someone else thought of you

and there you are, or maybe

it's me standing here

surely one of us must be wrong

but would we be?

still? if we were the other now?

Be gentle with yourself, dear Blossom

do not wilt before you die

My wish for you is to be plucked in your perfection,

then pressed eternally in a page as a

memory of the moment of love's inception,

where and whence we were born

And where we will always be 

you and me or was that I and thee?

What? Are you asking me what I think?

I have seen your dark and

I have seen your light and

still I want to hold you so tightly

and I'm so tired of the waiting

and it withers me to be shamed by my own impatience

yet I learn that I should not even pay mind to the thoughts of others

So why do I worry about my own?

when I am not love,

I am not me.

Press that one into your heart

and be free.



It's just a thought. It does not own you. Watch it slip away.

Pennance

Writing my wrongs in this black box of shame

Humming some hims to erase all the blame

Kneeling before you, I’s lowered in shame

As pen-nance releases my runaway game

Whisper my seek-ret through theses cuts in the steal

Where you hear me, and hold me and tell me to feel

So I squirm and erupt as I rise to my heal

Shedding shame’s ugly skin, for flesh's a-peel

Holding me farther away from your hearth

where my lips cannot bellow your prodigal spark

Where our fire dares not flare to then fall apart

Hold me where the flame is real, not a shot in the dark

Righting your wrongs in this black box- no shame

Kneeling before me you bowed down and I came

I dream of melting your tower of shame, and

I burn slowly, warmly- please don't dampen this flame

Til we whisper our secrets through the holes in this fence
The wall crumbles between us, as we move to confess
And we shed all the wrongs, and move on to the best
In the light, in this love, we are truly the blessed

Pen-nance: The act of writing your wrong


Something old, something new...   :)

Listen

SWAK (Thank you for the gifts)

and ne'er, but in this moment
does my heart marry the sky
and we are always and forever
in only just this moment, eternal

but never again

so we dance the floors of heaven
even if for just this night
when we are charming, graceful love
which we will always be

all ways and again

each time you kiss me in a dream

#iknowsomethingsthatgodknows

I have a sneaking suspicion
that when we honor our own good
in spite of our own absence of it,
we know the heart of Love

And it must be wisdom
that whispers, even in the brightest light,
that love will not bloom in another flower
that has been plucked by the prospect of my desire

I once thought that I
knew love and what it sounded like,
when I tasted what I thought I heard love was
Love changes, just as we do

The best is yet to come?
No, the best just keeps coming, my friend.
Let it in
Be with love- it's always here

It's everywhere you are


So here's me, writing the same thing a different way. This, I think, is 3 or 4 years old. Life is starting to become a blur where the moments and memories are more vivid, as I begin to know their eternal omniscience.  But the hows, whys and whens are irrelevant. Love is that space that soothes and smooths and spills and fills. Oh thank you. Anyway, here it is, the heart of G()D:

You must have been the heart of God

when love was what God thought of

In the brilliance of your loving kindness

you ignited the sky's lights, by the billions

And in morning's gift of skies so blue,

I swear that God loves me more, when my thoughts are with you

Yes, you must have been my heart, my God

when God first thought to love

Thank you, Life, for always showing me more than I ever think to ask for.

Questionable

When you question something do you seek to understand
or
do you seek to be pacified in your righteousness?

Just asking.

an inverted echo

Suddenly I'm listening
to every song and every thing
I hear the cries of baby birds
and hang my ear on wisdom's words
There'll come a time, I know-you'll see
when I won't even be waiting on me

I'll be dancing to the metronohm

And You And I

We are adventurers...alien beings borrowing these fleshy vessels
to learn to love
to be
to shine oh so brightly

born again
like a baby
in wit
and innocence
silently beaming

knowledge in this aged fleshy flesh...
to love to learn,
be too,
our own light, our own love

Boot weather

She breathed in, and then out again,
air
colder than the dark afternoon
as if
death had already seized her limp
soul
Staring into the gray blue autumn
sky
watching the still clouds frozen
as if
the very last moment before the ice age came
to freeze
Remnants of life and love and hope
in
the pictures scratched by the bare, stark
twigs
that cling listlessly to yellow threads of
life
Lingering in the cold, all alone again til her
breath
shatters the stillness of death's frozen
scene when
she dreams of sleep's blanket, to awaken one
day
the new life, the warmth, and promise of
spring

Before it was a river
Laid a dry and barren plain
Beneath the mountains’ towering
Slides to flash the falling rain

Before there was a mountain
Breathed land above the silent plates
Soon to erupt within the molten core
Unaware of its magnificent fate

Before it was a spinning earth
A mass of unfathomable light
Forced to be this world we see
Our pleasure, not our right

Before it was my light, my love
My name was always this
Conceived by the rain and cosmic pain
Life bore me, its daughter, Bliss

Her little fancies

How honest, the obsession of an addict

Floating
through the streets
wearing nothing
but her face

She plays no games no more with you

You are the jagged edge
that tears flesh from its soul
leaving her soul
free to bleed

There is nothing left, save elegance

Traipsing through her vague spirit
there is no way to win or lose
there is only this;
her scars from your wounds

Which her tears kiss quickly as they fall


There have been a handful of times now that I have not understood what "I" have written until I read it again at another time. That's when the real editing starts-when I realize that I have not actually captured the essence of what I meant to say.

I'm a process.  I'm done thinking about inefficiencies, insufficiencies, or incompatibilities. Life is hard enough as it is. These imaginary deficiencies just make everything harder.

I spoke earlier today that I am a poet. Suddenly I was. We can deem ourselves whatever be our great desires. And then we are. If I speak that the ocean soothes me, it does. If I tell you that I love you, then you are love to me. If we crown ourselves kings of the night, then burn the night like comets, then we are stars.

Thank you for listening to my little fancy. I am your devoted friend. I am. ;)

Rock a bye, babe (Elation, delight)

Oh I love it
I love the way
you come calling   me

Oh you know the
drill, the way I
need my fill of your loving

But oh the way
you kiss me,
how you lift me with your touch

I die for you
I am on fire for you
we will sleep in death

                        like babies

Thunder and lightning

One glorious moment
this snapshot in time,
whispers through the jagged crack
between the day and night

Dissonance rains,
announcing choir's sudden cadence
turning, abruptly while
the chords harmoniously slay us

and so we live

Take it from the bottom!

It's like forever in every moment
the sky in every star
Where is the sun in the night
or your flowers in the dark
do you know the ocean in a wave
can you hear the choir in just one measure
It's like forever in every hour
when you and I are lovers

Wand-erers

I saw the bird mince the sky
with its whipping wings
creating currents to shoo the breeze
which touch and tickle the face of me

Why has it been so difficult to embrace the magnitude of wonder, to submit freely to those things that seem so much bigger than us? As if it was a soap bubble blown by the giggling child who dropped her wand to appease her newest fancy, we have learned to not trust wonder. But wonder is as real as it is inside you or me, he or she, or all of us. We just have to want it. We just have to.

if not for me, then for the world...

Ask of me anything you want
take whatever you think you need
Know that I will surely give
for love has made a slave of me

Towering tree beyond my reach
ever stretching toward the sky
never does it fail to shelter
the restless wings of tireless flight

nor does the ocean cease to harbor
whales or turtles or angle faced fish
with never a question and never a doubt
for love's beating heart is anonymous

It's not that I crave your hungry, warm kisses
or the grasp of your strong, searching hand
These treats after all are not mine to savor
but I once knew your heart in the world of forever

So ask what you will and take what you need
for mine is the deepest pleasure
when I pray that I give you what you need to become
love's devoted slave, forever

A lull, a bye

i dream of you
in every knight that
the seeping red moon, cut
by its own sharpened crescent,
buckles to its needs

and yet it has not lost, but won
this bloody war
for it melts slowly, drowning in
its own wait of heaviness
remembering

us, the one we came to be
or did we lie our way
into this?
or does it even matter?
why or how or when, or Hoooom?

what, exactly, is this?

we are the joys,
we are the sorrows
i would not ever have known
how much i loved you
if you still loved me

because you left me,
not because you loved me;
i am untied.  so i let you go.
a common thread which I must find
again, once the dawn wakes me