Monday, August 29, 2016

it is the peripheral sense
of warmth
that cracks the hard shell
of the seed
and sets the the tender shoot
to rising toward unknown
emerging from the safety
of the soil
stem dancing in its prayer
toward the songs of light
offered by the sun

but what is left unseen
is what submerges
into deep
the courageous
and ever delving anchor
that gives the willow
its right to wings
and the roots
that weave the grounding
to form purpose
of the inspiration
to aspire to the flight

and every leaf
that quivers
every flower that offers up
its moist and open mouth
every fruit that swells
and ripens
under dreams of kisses
of the sun
does not give of itself
what it has not first
nurtured in the depth
of hidden realms
dancing its secret dance
veiled within the layers
of earth internal
cloaked inside the dark

Sunday, August 28, 2016

if a lover has ever
painted you in honey

then you know what it is
to bathe in sweet

and if that same lover
has then starved you out
until pomegranates
turned to dust
and all you could do
was writhe in the hot sun
gathering sand
to the vulnerability
of your body
naked and exposed

then you know what it is
to bathe in betrayal

if then another
has tried to stroke your flesh
with gentle caresses
that only broke
the skin

then you know what it is
to bathe in your own pain

wait for the rains
they always come
even in places
where centuries pass

and learn what it is
to bathe in the cleansing of the healed

and when the last abrasive grain
has returned back to the earth

dress yourself in the perfume
of the flower of love
bloomed once again

pain is a poison
that sticks to the heart
and filters the eyes
so that whatever
we can't let go of
in the things we've left unsaid
cannot be cleansed
from festering in the mouth

but only wait in hiding
to ambush the first one
who penetrates the eyes
past what the automatic
brain receives
and ready to cut the throat
of the one to enter
the apocalypse
of our hearts

graffiti your grievances
in lipstick on your cracked
and fractured mirror

defile the virginity
of new paper
until it feels the carnage
of your pain
and the crisp white
is bloodied red

smear it
and tear it

baptize it's crucifixion
with your bitterest
of tears

exile it to the barrens
of a wasteland desert
where there are no witness
to summon its resurrection

burn it to ashes so fine
even the sand can't taste

but whatever you do
do not mistake
your opportunities
for release
by lashing the tender skin
of the one who creeps in
by chance
into the ransacked remnants
of the long abandoned home
that once housed the being
of your love

do not seek your revenge
or expect to find your healing
in play acting
with the innocent
by projection
and by force

singe your flesh
with the flames
of the incineration
of the demons you've ripped
from your own heart

expunge your eyes in kerosene
if that is what you must

then hide your scars
beneath crystal vases
filled with the flowers
grown from the excrement
of what you've shed
or hang the now closed wounds
up on your walls
without apologies

but whatever you do
be ready to greet
the gentle who wander in
as only what they are

and know because you have
set free the ashes
of what you never got to say
and because the wind has heard
and carried
those ancient wars away
you are free now
to sing new songs

to see with clear eyes

to move love
back into the empty walls
of the place you had to leave
so it may greet the truth
of the gift
of the one who has come
to make your heart
a home again

Saturday, August 27, 2016

the need to reprogram
should not be confused
with the need
for self love
when the fault
in the calibration
is not a sign of what
we have lacked internally
but of what has been
and what has been

with the stress
of the external environment
being what brings us
to extinction
or catalyzes us
to evolve

so that the love of self
cannot be appraised
by external measures
of what we display
of happy
but rather only defined
by the resilience
in the heart

whatever it means
that happy is
I'm still here

the socialist heart
thinks that what it gives
of love
will be made up
in what it should receive

the totalitarian heart
uses love as a means
to exact control
and exert authority
on behalf of
the ego's desires

the capitalist heart
does not expect
an equal measure
of what is given
for what is gained
but wagers it can exploit
more than the investment
put up of its own self

but this heart here
is pure fucking
free to love whoever
and whatever
it loves
without dependence
without externalized control
without being the prostitute
or the john

it was born to beat
and born to love

it has fought starved out rebellions
to reclaim this power
and the birth right
of its natural freedom

and here it stands
free of legislations
and restrictions
and middlemen

outside the realm of what
can be contracted
or imprisoned
or employed

free to love and shine
like a wild and raging
naked sun

Tuesday, August 23, 2016

what does not exist
is only what
has not been

if I'm starved out
it is because
I have forgotten
where I left
my mouth

and miracles
are the moments
when the honey comes
to parts the lips
to taste
the tongue

Monday, August 22, 2016

when you die
of loneliness
you stay stuck
in the life
you were meant
to live

a ghost
unable to touch
or be touched

it seems to me
that life
is made up of
let it go
let it in
and how well
we manage

Saturday, August 13, 2016

on a pilgrimage
to personal
mother fucking
where I get zen
with the holiness
of the words
"fuck off"

some people want to use
your past against you

if that's all they got to reach for
it's a pretty big sign
they haven't got past
the point of making
their repetitious
over and over again
their past

at least my past
is in my past

Thursday, August 11, 2016

there are no historical records
of Jesus from the time
they say he existed
which should
make one question
if he existed at all

but you know
who was crucified

the ancestors of Turtle Island
for refusing to surrender
their relationship
with the Great Mystery
and put their spirits
under the chains
of foreign and external

just as the free thinkers
and women healers
and pagans
and heathens
in other places
and other times
before them

that's a lot of sacrifice
from your ancestors
and mine
which ought to be
properly weighed
against one son
of the definable God
who was so true
his servants must now
control you
for you to understand
his truth

whereas those millions
who were crucified
in one way or another
as undeniably the children
of the Earth and Sky
knew they were
Creation's truth

so if you say
you're decolonizing
but you're a Christian
you might have further to go
than you think

Tuesday, August 9, 2016

I think maybe
atheists who claim
to love surrealism
are either lying
about their relationship
with spirituality
or their appreciation
of the art

don't trust them
especially those hipsters
they covet obscure tastes
like groupies collect
rock star VD

there is a difference
in judgement
and in challenge
where judgement says
you are wrong
but I am right
challenge asks
how did you build
this foundation
how solid is it
do you think this beam here
might work better there
would this brick
I have to offer
perhaps improve its strength
so it can hold us both

the often alone
are never alone
but the never alone
are often alone

Sunday, August 7, 2016

are we as humans so greedy
we willingly partake
in the lotteries of contrived
and stacked against us fates
eager to accept a system
that divides what was always
for everyone to share
taking the risk against
impossible odds
that leave us most often
confined to poverty
without the hope
of any emancipation
just to have our shot
at being a have all
instead of an I have not

or maybe it is arrogance
that makes us think
we're special enough
to claw our way
across that line
or that we deserve
to take more than our share
even as ours is being taken

or so insecure
we think we need a little more
to get us by
and show the world our worth

or is it the vulnerability
of being susceptible
to susceptibility
and the ways our dreams
can so easily be interchanged
with outside stimulation

when we could all
have it all
and still we risk it all
in a game that's dealt
from the bottom of the deck
for the chance to take
more than what we need
and leave the rest
with the not enough
of the dreams
our grandfathers had
that become the nightmares
of our grandchildren
yet to come

Friday, August 5, 2016

it seems to me
that some men
are of two kinds

those who cannot understand
the language of intimacy
without the presence
of sex

and those who do not trust
the ways that sex can turn intimacy
to the language of a trickster
to obscure the greater truths

so that some men must touch you
to feel love with you
and others can only truly love
what they will never touch

when sex medicine
administered on its own
is for those who have forgotten
how it is to really feel

and ethereal connection
in the absence of any more
is for men who fear the outcome
if they ever dared to touch

Inside Out

we're the outside kind
so you were disappointed
when I stepped in to dance
but I already knew it
before I laid my hands
upon that tree
and still it was where
I had to be
because sometimes
you have to step in to really see
what it is you're looking at
when you stand out
and you have to trust
that learning in the backwards way
comes more naturally
than dogma to our kind

I watched you watch me
for two days
above the coulee hills
even as I said
I was willing to let you go
if there was someplace else
you had to be
but you just stayed and danced
up there on the outside
not letting go of me

and on the third day
there you were
barefoot and dancing
by my side
and all that I could do
was laugh so hard I cried
like I had lost my mind
when we both know that crazy
is when you gain control
and learn to really see
and there you were with me
for only just one round
but so vivid I could see
with both my eyes left open wide

playing your tricks
the way you played
with the constructs of this life
you came inside to dance
beyond the ways
I carried you in
inside my heart
and we were there
in that sacred lodge
but gone
to some other ancient time
our own time
our own dimension
the way we always worked the best

and for us
no matter where we stand
inside has always been illusion
because outside is the only thing
that we can be
when our spirits decide
to loose themselves to free
and you danced me outside
to just the free
of the inside of our love
where my one inside to be
has always been
transcendent with the way
two outsiders learn to weave
their own realities
from the inside out
to outside in
in a dance of eternal love
that dances in and out
of wherever it wants to be

maybe before
we can really understand
just how good we are
we have to let go
of any ideas we have
that we have to be good
and what that all
should look like

maybe knowing your good
comes from being cool
with sometimes being bad
and losing attachment
to being either one at all
so you can just be
the way your spirit
is asking you to be

Monday, August 1, 2016

once in awhile
you'll fall in love
with someone
who is everything
that drives you crazy
and all the things
that you can't stand

but once in awhile
the truth is
you're really in love
with all those things
that drive you crazy
and the ways you are
none of those things
but subconsciously long to be
is where the origin
of the conflict lies

and what a shame
we go so hard
at the ones we love
instead of facing the fear
of what it takes
to change ourselves
and be the potential
of our authentic
beyond comfortable resistance
with the love of self it takes
to stand before our mirrors
and see what we are shown

what a shame
that once in awhile
we fall in love
with someone
when we are everything
that drives them crazy
and then so willingly
we surrender
and change
all the things
that they can't stand

look to where
your heart is drawn
then tell yourself
the honest truth
about who you are
and who you want to be

be that

and once in awhile
you'll fall in love
with someone
and they will
drive you crazy
with the ways
you are everything
that drives them crazy
and the mirror
will be a map
that charts the difference
between the destinations
and the departures

the inspirations
to make a change
or the reasons
to take a stand