Tell me all your news of love,
of triumphs over demons,
where you were crowned king over
all the levels of your being.
How did you survive through foreign
markets, shielding yourself from thieves
and those corrupted?
Tell me of the games you played that
entertained your smile in the darkest
part of night, or the loneliest
day's hour.
Sunday, February 28, 2010
Thursday, February 25, 2010
Brave birds...(2-25-2010)
Brave birds, flying in the snowstorm,
can you see where you are going?
Lilac bush, so bare without your leaves,
breaking in half from the weight of the snow;
did you cry when you fell or did you permit
your own demise?
Can I borrow your wisdom, or the shields
on your eyes; may I take your thoughts
as my own?
can you see where you are going?
Lilac bush, so bare without your leaves,
breaking in half from the weight of the snow;
did you cry when you fell or did you permit
your own demise?
Can I borrow your wisdom, or the shields
on your eyes; may I take your thoughts
as my own?
Wednesday, February 24, 2010
Empty the need for a companion...(2-24-2010)
don't let a poet die, or starve
in a time of famine.
If falling through a well of grief
remember all your vows of kindness.
Walk in clear paths and be gentle
when you can.
Hush now,
no more thoughts
until you can breathe
with only breath in mind.
in a time of famine.
If falling through a well of grief
remember all your vows of kindness.
Walk in clear paths and be gentle
when you can.
Hush now,
no more thoughts
until you can breathe
with only breath in mind.
Tuesday, February 23, 2010
Who am I to say you don't belong...(2-23-2010)
Close your eyes until meaning falls away.
Hold your breath no longer than the
speed of its exhale.
Allow yourself to become tired, so you
can sleep tonight.
Dream, until broken statues become
sacred again.
Hold your breath no longer than the
speed of its exhale.
Allow yourself to become tired, so you
can sleep tonight.
Dream, until broken statues become
sacred again.
Monday, February 22, 2010
Today is just a day...(2-22-2010)
Today is just a day to take away the patience
and fill the passion-producing machine with
frustration, hunger, and emptiness.
Is there any variable for chaos or change, to
transform honestly, results of peace?
Bring together the mind and heart, placing
boundaries on their speech, threatening
severe punishment on the one who
strays from good intentions.
and fill the passion-producing machine with
frustration, hunger, and emptiness.
Is there any variable for chaos or change, to
transform honestly, results of peace?
Bring together the mind and heart, placing
boundaries on their speech, threatening
severe punishment on the one who
strays from good intentions.
Thursday, February 18, 2010
You are of the willing..(2-18-2010)
Demons do not know peace,
demanding validation and expecting
to hear answers to questions like,
"Why me?"
They scream it isn't fair and expect your pity.
You bring them to the street, but the stomachs
of every man met have never known trust.
Don't shake the hand of grief unless you're
willing to embrace him the way his mother could.
With or without a teacher or companion, the
demons will roam the streets.
Never find yourself alone in the fight, but be
prepared to be the first to speak,
telling the world how you
are of the willing.
demanding validation and expecting
to hear answers to questions like,
"Why me?"
They scream it isn't fair and expect your pity.
You bring them to the street, but the stomachs
of every man met have never known trust.
Don't shake the hand of grief unless you're
willing to embrace him the way his mother could.
With or without a teacher or companion, the
demons will roam the streets.
Never find yourself alone in the fight, but be
prepared to be the first to speak,
telling the world how you
are of the willing.
Sunday, February 14, 2010
When they held this as their own. (2-14-2010)
She cherished me because she wanted to,
because it was in her to give.
She showered me in her heart.
She knew she would receive my love,
and she understood that she was worthy.
He cherished me because he wanted to,
because every cell and pore of his entire being was compelled,
confirming the sincerity.
He showered me in his heart,
yearning for my health as cherubs fell to the ground dying in ecstasy.
He could not be consumed in doubt or concern,
knowing he too was cherished.
They did this because the spirit was in them.
They responded to the heart's cry.
They accepted love and the commitment to service
of God, or the heart, or the unknown motivator
of such chaos.
Unknowing of the end they continued to stay open
to the spirit of this holy action.
They treated this all as the highest gift
and vowed to themselves never to see it as anything less.
This vow created their action to serve,
and when they held this as their own they were happy.
because it was in her to give.
She showered me in her heart.
She knew she would receive my love,
and she understood that she was worthy.
He cherished me because he wanted to,
because every cell and pore of his entire being was compelled,
confirming the sincerity.
He showered me in his heart,
yearning for my health as cherubs fell to the ground dying in ecstasy.
He could not be consumed in doubt or concern,
knowing he too was cherished.
They did this because the spirit was in them.
They responded to the heart's cry.
They accepted love and the commitment to service
of God, or the heart, or the unknown motivator
of such chaos.
Unknowing of the end they continued to stay open
to the spirit of this holy action.
They treated this all as the highest gift
and vowed to themselves never to see it as anything less.
This vow created their action to serve,
and when they held this as their own they were happy.
Sunday, February 07, 2010
Don't tell our daughters...
Don't tell our daughters of the ocean or the sea.
Don't let them know any stories about ships docking in the bay.
Don't allow our sons to hear of boats 80 times the size of a man.
Don't let him hear the muffled bass of a blow horn.
If they hear of such tales they will forever be lost in wonder, dreaming of water.
Don't let them know any stories about ships docking in the bay.
Don't allow our sons to hear of boats 80 times the size of a man.
Don't let him hear the muffled bass of a blow horn.
If they hear of such tales they will forever be lost in wonder, dreaming of water.
Does the sun suffer like the earth?
Does the sun place its hand over its abdomen when it wakes in the morning, or does the sun ever sleep at all? Does it roll under covers letting cyclones enter its head, lifting and dropping its radiance? Is it the sun or the illusion of clouds which shields the earth. does the sun suffer like the earth?
February 7th, 2010
I pretended to be mad in the morning. I cursed at the dull space. I put water in the kettle for tea.
I wished for better days than misery. I prayed for a miracle but expected the received silence.
Maybe tomorrow will be better, and it was until I realized it was here, and these feelings remained.
I reached for the critic, but she also wasn't in her office. I looked for hope, but with a pillow so firm it was an obstacle to fall asleep. Why doesn't her secretary take messages, "just have her call me. Have her coach me back into shape." I wondered why I depended on the romantic self-discipline. Wondering what compliment I might pay him if my tongue could cherish his actions rather than metaphors of the sun. I wondered what the sky looked like this morning, but I was too busy cursing in the tub.
Who can bare their reflection in this? Who can bare their own self-disappointment? Who knows how to be lost like this?
I wished for better days than misery. I prayed for a miracle but expected the received silence.
Maybe tomorrow will be better, and it was until I realized it was here, and these feelings remained.
I reached for the critic, but she also wasn't in her office. I looked for hope, but with a pillow so firm it was an obstacle to fall asleep. Why doesn't her secretary take messages, "just have her call me. Have her coach me back into shape." I wondered why I depended on the romantic self-discipline. Wondering what compliment I might pay him if my tongue could cherish his actions rather than metaphors of the sun. I wondered what the sky looked like this morning, but I was too busy cursing in the tub.
Who can bare their reflection in this? Who can bare their own self-disappointment? Who knows how to be lost like this?
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