Spring Flowers

Sculpey clay & Molotow paint

Teacup

Cup & Saucer: Paper, Mod Podge, bottle

The Night of the Fireworks

All of the sudden and for no reason

my heart aches like loss and mourning

like future tense nostalgia and time running out

like the time years ago

when my friend’s parents were moving him half a country away

and we held tightly to our last night

trading promises in the dark

and when I finally turned to go

he called me back because there were fireworks

all of a sudden and for no reason

and he held me as we watched

until I broke free crying

running

apologizing

because I couldn’t bear the perfect beauty and tragedy

my heart

now and often

aches like that

Even The One

Even the one who says he has
no illusions or delusions
about who and what I am
(and whom I believe)
sometimes needs to take
a deep breath
a step away
a fresh look
to find me again

hopefully always
to find me again

I Wish I Had Known I was Beautiful Sooner

Mostly hidden is

the realization that closing the door on the house I’ve built

can be an intricate process

especially given my need to

double

15

go back and do it again

check

to ensure that yes,

there really is a monster under that bed.

The knowledge that once you can tear yourself away

from the checking

and the monster

you will be free.

The Liberation cleansing ritual

photo by Will Gurley http://www.frezenda.com/

that I invented just now in a bathroom mirror,

under 2 out of 3 working lights...

(Click here to read the rest on Elephant Journal)

On the street just now, 

a man said 

(in beautiful french) 

that I was magnificent, 

and asked if I knew. 

And while I do, 

I simply smiled 

& thanked him :)

Advice For Metro Surfing

Widen your stance.

Bend your knees.

Stay focused. Note: if you pay too much attention to other people, you will lose your balance.

Loosen up and move with the bumps and turns.

Lean into the pressure, or it will lean into you.

Be ready to reach out if you need to.

Don't take yourself too seriously; it is always more charming to stumble with a smile.

I believe it's called grace.

Picture

He took a picture of me
as I crouched precariously close to a stream
or improbably pretty swamp
taking pictures of small frogs

and all I can figure
is that he finds me especially beautiful
when I forget myself and simply am myself
spreading my whims like wings

like how he smiled in the moonlight with the magick of myths and fairytales
the time I chased a prehistoric sized moth
across a parking lot and into the grass
dancing unabashedly through the spotlight of his headlights.

Perfect Summer

This is the perfect summer.


Thanks to the grace of the universal plotline
some decisive dedication on my part
and my budding instinct
for knowing a good thing when I see it
my days are being savored in the sunshine
in the grass
indulging my whims
smiling in God.


Honey drenched afternoons
evenings
late nights and headspace
are taken up with you
with us
windblown hair
delirious laughter
and all array of music loudly coaxing us.


Our time could accurately be measured
in the spins of your various odometers across the years
if we cared to spend a moment counting.
And why waste a moment counting
when there are back porches to sit on
slaughtering sci-fi swarms of mosquitos
sharing our tales and inner workings
smiling into each other's eyes
until the darkness
finally leaves us
with only our fingers entwined.

Ritual

My mala beads

in our mouths
as our tongues dance around our divinity.


I pray on these.


Succulent sacrilege
pure and primal intent
the Gods and Guides are smiling at our
spontaneous exercise in magick
and writing of rituals.


Lost in us
here and now
these are the moments
that fertilize the soil
despite our desbelief.