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smiles and scars
i love
exponentially
it fills me up sometimes--
a helium heart
and then
i fall face-plant
beneath its weight

i love
it is a flood
and awash
strong wind in my sails
and the stormiest
sea

it means
patience
and kindness and
compassion
giving and
giving
and,
giving and
i pray,
selflessly

i love
but how come love
for me
mean always letting go
and never getting
together
to be?

back entries

My Waters
i am river
never ocean
i am sometimes
trickle creek
raging current
ripple puddle
i am often
quiet tea
i am flood
and tributary
i am liquid
in your eye
raining teardrops
dewey morning
moist saliva
heaving sigh
i am showers
in the springtime
i am steady
streaming hose
desperate thirst and
melting glaciers
summer drought
and runny nose
i am river
flowing free
everchanging
that is me
with reddish brown
transluency
and murky waters
that is me


----------------------------------------------

(short on breath)
my heart
seeps love
like rich
gold blood
pouring
with subtlest
dripping
ache
heady
moments
almost
too light
the occasional
urge to grasp
my chest
and withhold
i fear
and yet
i wait
spilling
raining
Truth

-----------------------------------------------------


For my Friend
a woman
i have watched her dance
and watched her slip once in a while
laughing lightly often, but then
shrieking rightfully in pain
whence
she
falls
you would fall, too,
if you had to balance
a baby girl against the weight of the world
swimming struggling in a sea of tumultous
blended past present memories
all the knowledge of a Goddess
juxtaposed to the worst
of this world
she
dreams
deeply and
inspires
everybody until
she is
exhausted
and slips into the ocean's swell
for an all-too needed salty seasoak
rest, scales sucking in healing
to fill her up with magik
miracle strentgh
to arise in sunlight
one of these days
grace renewed
and endless arms entwine
around her babygirl
and
once
again
together
they beam
and grace their spirits
in this world
where unseen
joys
await their brightest
smiles

-----------------------------------------------------

DreamyDay


i don't know if it was a fever
or what, but i have been
elevated today, in sweet delerium
dreamwaking and
wonderfully wondering
without worry
my fantasies
are bliss
and consequences
seem irrelevant
i am suspended
contented, sluggish, at ease,
swimming in tonight's starsea...
by morning's light
an increase in strength
would be welcome
but meanwhile
i think i'll just
take another moment
to Flop...

------------------------------------------


LifeLost
"Here is a secret--
I have become
Like you. I am a
Pacifist now.
But you can't
Tell any of the
Guys here, they'll
Kick my ass.
But, I figured it out.
I've got four months
Left. Then I'm
Back to college
Freshman....
'Do you know
Where Econ is?'
'Yeah it's over
behind the
swimming
pool...'
'Oh gee thanks'
and all that
nonsense....
But not before
I strap on my
Backpack
And bum around
Europe for a
Little while..."

RIP beloved Cousin...

I'm glad
We had
The chance
To talk.

----------------------------------------------------

Bri

You can call him a soldier, and spit out the word
But he was my first cousin, first love, first friend.
Baseball card boy with his bright yellow dump trucks and
Deep blue eyes, fishing in the creek at our old
Apartment-complex, and conspiring to make a buck
From his harvest. Always the idea-man, with his
bottomless pockets and generous spirit. A remarkable
Appetite for pickles. Years later he still had the habit
Of ordering extras when treating me to tuna-fish sandwiches
And DC pints of ale. We drank nine rounds the last time
He visited me...it was grotesque. I remember the churning
In my gut right after I'd confessed to him about our granddad
And how he raped me from ages 3 to 9. My boisterous cousin
Was speechless, of course. It is difficult to know what to say.
Stumbling home, we returned from ruminescence to laughter
And Brian stole a pumpkin off a stranger's doorstep,
To my very vocal chagrin. "We'll carve it and return it."
A jack-o-latern surprise from the Heart of a ruthless soldier.
He slept in my spare loft above it and watched the fire glimmer
Through the night, no doubt with a characteristic grin....

-------------------------------------------------------


Shameless Flirtation


Quiet farm night, and my
Fantasies are pleasing--
Awakened in me after
Remarkable slumber--
I touch, I feel again, and
Loneliness
Is a seeming silliness
Now, despite the lack of
Tangible evidence
That this phase has passed.
Yet--a note. A memory,
An indication. Miraculous
Web-woven sticky dual-braid
Beauty. Laughter. Illusory
Imaginings that feel almost worthy
Of sustained belief....if only for
Anticipation's sake. One touch, perhaps
Two. Flirtation, innocent enough.
Gaming. What else is life but
Prayer and playtime? Sunsets and
Smelled flowers; sleep-in saturdays
And dreams? Kisses
Are on the horizon....
So true tasty sweet.....

ShadowDancer

snowy-bright morning and i
am embracing my shadow
she is dancing within me
one half-beat behind and i've
become her audience. dance,
i tell her, not tauntingly but
with sincere heart. dance, for
i see the distinction within
and know that her movements
are her own. she is a child
needing expression and gentle
guidance--hush whispered no-no's
in place of yellings and spankings
she is a child--real and existing,
not good or bad. strong like a seed,
but not fully empowered, and so
i simply open my arms to her
offer a place to rest on my breast
where i can offer her Love
and constructive suggestions
for other ways to move, without thwarting
her most earnest efforts

today
i am brave
enough to face
your lack of place
in my existance:
don't tease me again
with your
almost
hellos!
i am
hollow
and sad
but tired
of trying
to imagine
some other
alternative
way
to view
my loneliness
when it is thus!
my stories
are habits
from solitare mornings
tangle-haired
kid growing up
in no neighborhood
then, i was focused
on visions of better homes
bareley gracing the present
with my presence
never percieving much
of Love besides intoxicants
rape scenarios and wishes
battered child
daydream child
so alone
for so long
and i thought,
how sadand
for once i let it be that, and then
it was clear how little has changed
when my truest Love
and my energies go out
to a return-to-sender address
a one-way message
machine

i quit!
do you hear that, universe?
this must stop now!
i quit! i quit!
take my dreams from me
please
and replace them anew
for i'm finished
with this kind of
Loving which
essentially
is nothing
but nothing
after all--
i bid adieu to my
nameless
faceless
Yous on the horizon--
goodbye to my wishes and daydreams--
my standards have changed
and i'm through
wanting
the ungiving
You
i am brave enough now
to see sadness
and accept
the truth

ChickenDance

I didn't
Know how to
Communicate
With you
So I made
A wierd kind of
Squaking sound
And when you
Turned around
Raised eyebrows
I pretended
Not to know
Where the sound
Came From

White Sunday

Whitewash. My emotions it seems, as well as the scenery. Snow has a way of making me feel so trapped. I weigh at least half my weight extra on days like these, which may be why I never like to trouble with donning the layers of clothes required to keep warm. Such thick clothes--wool and down and such. No thank you...I prefer bare skin and a soft blanket by fire. I lie on the Navajo blanket legs spread and begin stretching. Side bends and sit-ups; whole sections of memorized dance routines that never left my body even after my last day at the studio. It's noon; I have just arisen but a nap will undoubtedly follow this routine, with only perhaps a cup of tea in between. The cabin is silent and for a moment, like one refrain of a chorus, I sit with the notion that depression is much sexier when one has a lover. Passing full days in bed making love is romantic...while the time alone turns into unchanged sheets, unwashed hair, dirt under toenails. Earwax and unplucked eyebrows. Commentary from Others on what is "healthy." Thoughts don't seem to stick around too long these days. It seems somehow, I've passed the point of ruminating on my sadness. I guess I still do miss someone but it's melting away...or perhaps, just buried beneath the heavy snow.

Choices

My mind has stated its
Disinterest
In coloring this severed-head
Chicken chase
Glistening gold
For one more moon beam
Night

Yet my body
Still assumes
The movements
So accustomed--
Statuesque
Awaiting
In shadows

As if Self
Can somehow hide
Unseen
From Ego...