Tuesday, August 02, 2011

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 :)

Sunday, July 24, 2011

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.

Friday, July 15, 2011

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.

Thursday, July 14, 2011

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.

Wind

The breze blew in
like the hot wet kiss of a brewing storm
stirring your cologne
as I lay against your chest
with something
maybe
playing on the stereo
but it was drowned out
by my cheek against you
and the wind blowing kisses
that rolled your cologne
which clung to me even later
and I relished.

Saturday, June 25, 2011

In Case

In the event of emotional emergency
pray.
Whether or not you believe
blame curse beseech teh sky until you realize
that you are smaller than the clouds
and just as temporary
and if they can be beautiful
knowing that they will be rain
you can probably survive the day.


Sing.
Take the advice of the ancients and the pasionate and let 'er rip.
Sing broken hearted and broken voiced
until you forget that you are either and remember only
that you wish you knew more songs.
Then make them up and keep singing.


Explore your wisdom.
There is something that you understand better than your average bear does.
Something that resonates with you.
Bask in it.
Bathe in it.
It is yours for a reason
even if you don't see it.


Remember that they
all of them
everyone
has their moments of darkness
their journeys through tunnels that they can see no end to.
Sadness is an equalizer in this human experience
as is the wild laughter that splits your sides and shoots milk from your nose.
They are both true.
At all costs
focus on the latter.
Know that always
the choice is yours.

Everybody: This Is For You

 I've been thinking about you a lot lately.
In passing
in joy
in grocery aisles.

I think of how I'm sure that you don't realize
how your smile sparks sunshine
and how looking into your eyes
I find the solace of sameness.

Over coffee this morning
I had the sinking feeling
that all too often you are unaware
of the creative grace
that flows in waves from even your subtle movements.

In fact, you know that tick twitch fidget tell that you have?
I find it rather endearing.
It reminds me that you are deliciously human
even when I'm blinded by your glow.

I'm afraid
sometimes
late at night
that you don't know that we all
have moments of doubt.
We all question this path
this skin
how our minds hold it all together.
We all daydream about what could've been
and wonder how yesterday should've been done better
but once the chips are down and the bets are closed
it is what it is
and what do we know about better anyway?

And I guess what I'm saying
is that we all
all too often
feel all too alone
and that's the irony of all this
because we're not.
We're all on this dreamscape seat of our pants journey together.

And next time you're sure
that you're hurtling through space cold and alone
meaningless and behind schedule
running dangerously low on air
please know that you aren't alone.
You can't be alone.
I see you
and you are beautiful.

Friday, June 24, 2011

The Continuing Tale of D

I've tripped over some slick lines in my time.
Built a few traps,
tested various poisons,
and played house with wolves and sheep
(they are equally domesticated and dangerous in the long run).

I've dived deep in shallow waters
barely missing the jagged rocks;
fallen blindly into fathomless depths
lost the sun;
but things do taste sweetest down there.

A word of advice:
all that glitters is not precious
even when it's set in gold.
I've been so afraid to fly
that I keep on crashing.

The travel broschures keep piling up
but I keep myself under paranoid lock and key
because if I can't make i there
who will I be?

I've loved too hard,
hated too many,
and one of those was me.
I've found myself isolated in crowds,
and lost myself again just as easily
in gracious solitude.

I've rejected authority,
conformity and anarchy
and have still met some dieties along the way
though the road less traveled
is so for a reason.

I've sworn off love more often than I've found it
and now I'm nourishing the notion that my love for me can spring eternal
if I keep my wits about me
and my soul food pure.

I've grown to accept that I will never have polite clean lines
instead I gleefully rock my carnal curves.
And while I sometimes mourn lost moments
but then I remember that hindsight is 20/20
and probably will be again tomorrow.

When I cry in the rain
I remind myself that the moon
holds me in her eye and heart
and when the day nearly does me in
I remember it's the sun that grows me.

At this bend I reflect
and admit
that I have no clue
where the paths will lead from here
but I intend to keep my sights set high
despite where the winds may toss me
or what the scenery hides.
For now,
I am free to window shop
for the shoes I have yet to fill.


(January 3, 2007)

The Breath of Dieties

If yoga means union in ancient Sanskrit, she reflected as she breathed herself into shaky balance, then it has certainly been mistranslated into firm butts and trendy leggings. And,she reasoned, if it truly is more than the newest mainstream mainstay, then the fire in my thighs is really the loving breath of a myriad of dieties.

Thursday, May 19, 2011

Tracks

Stepping out my front door
I am already at the tracks.
Which side depends
on where you're standing.

The train roars out of nothing
faces turned passively to the glass
to the falling darkness
the speeding trees.

I wonder about them
commuting home
to safe warm dens
dinner
suburban sprawl.

They wonder about the lives led
in the spaces
that are merely their in betweens
and the lights that shine
long after they are dreaming.

Briefly we are a part
of each others scenery.

May 1, 2011.