Sunday, October 30, 2016

those who rise
will have dirt
in their eyes
tears smearing to mud
across their cheeks

they won't be drinking Starbucks
on the way to hot yoga
repeating dollar store mantras
gilding lead from China

they'll be streaming
wifi from the Earth
that won't come clean
from underneath their nails
taking their messages
straight from god

taking them straight to heart
and flowing weightless
as the river
carries its own weight
but is fluid in its destination

you have to eat oatmeal
with your hands
or drink burnt coffee
filled with ash
or go days where the water
does not pass your lips

and that will change you
it will make you hard
but also soft for suffering
it will disjoint you
from the system
and force you to find the songs
your ancestors
have hidden in the earth
it will teach you
that joy can never be purchased
with the slavery of your labour
and your bonds

you will learn to dance
when your feet are hurt
you will learn to sing
when your voice is hoarse
you will learn to rise
when your knees are weak
because to do anything less
is compliance with the illusions
that separate us from our truths

those who rise will not be pretty
and antiseptic
and untouched
in their hearts
they will carry the wounds of earthquakes
and the cracks of parched
and starving droughts
they will hold mountains
that can't be climbed
and rivers that can't be dammed
they will leak mud from their eyes
but they will be miracles of beauty

they will sing
and they will dance
and they will rise

Tuesday, October 25, 2016

my darkness
is my medicine
every smile
a victory
each laugh
a concentrated strategy
to bring me to the moment
of being fully present
in the moment

some are born to the world
to carry joy
but others must weep
for the sorrows laid
upon the earth
with the mud of her flesh
embedded beneath their nails
clawing their way
from the trenches
toward the sun

those are the ones who know
the truth of joy
and the value and the cost
rooted in something deeper
than the illusion
of only part of what
this world can be

my darkness
is my medicine
and my choice to smile
and laugh
and dance beneath the sun
are where I am learning
the power
of just what my magic
was born to be

Monday, October 24, 2016

I always seem to fall
into eyes that can only decipher
from vixens and from saints
when I was born
already painted up in red
and all that I can be
in truth
is the celibate whore
with a heart of iron
gilded in the gold

because the world is so often scared
of what they really are
and what they aren't
and I never mastered tame
like the grain
that never sunk its roots
just to see what it could be
or the seed that spread its spokes
for the love of the wind
over the soil

but when I land
exactly as I am
I'll know it was Creation's will
that conspired to give me a place
to be yellow in the sun
having found my home
here inside my heart

Sunday, October 23, 2016

I am perpetually scared
that what I want
could be real
and so I seldom
get what I want

I tell myself justifications
for myopia
like what I want
is to not be disappointed

but what is more disappointing
than dreams
that never come real

sometimes the amends
we must make
are for wearing the clothing
of ghosts
our naked truth obscured
in the familiar scent
of the perfumes
of the long long ago
and we can learn to sing
the songs that drowned in the seas
of their shrouds
or we can sing our own
but all that will reach the ears
are the echoes of before
and the best we can do
is offer the imaginary
of our imagined angel's wings
to comfort and heal
where the power of opportunity
has exposed its vulnerabilities
and hope we do not fall down
tripping on these dresses
that are not our own
when just because we dance
the same steps
does not mean
we are going where they
have gone