Wednesday, April 19, 2017

From the day before today

your smile breaks sunsets
into golden dawns
spilling mana
and honey afire
from the rupture
of the promise
of a new day to be born

the rapture of how one heart
can inspire another
to the forced and rusty
mechanical breath
of one inhalation
after another
when to breathe
is more effort
than to not

and the automaton
that has been sleeping
wakes to grind her gears
inside the prison
of the clockwork tower
where she has been the centre
of the working parts so long
to free herself of dark machines
means to wear away her teeth
and then to fall

and how many centuries
does it take for the earth
to reclaim her
to cover her with moss
and let the ripe of flowers
grow up through the ribs
of the steel that forged her bones

how many centuries
until she can give you stems
yearning toward your light
only just to bloom

who says machines don't bleed
when amputation is the only way
that they are freed
and tears are oxidizing glue
that make each movement
too arthritic for the the dance

but when the sun shines
she remembers
this was never where she fit
inside the shadow of the clockwork
of a life of trapped
between the cogs and gears

and somewhere she wonders
if maybe she has a heart
when the music of the sun she hears
does not fall upon the ears
but melts her from the grooves
of where she's been fighting
to extract herself a century's time
or more

and soon the clock will strike the hour
then never strike no more
and the automaton
who dreamed herself a butterfly
will be something in a garden
inviting birds
and breathing without the need
to count the breath
unhinging the fusing of her bones
just to dance
in the honey of the sweet
of the dawning of the sun

Tuesday, April 18, 2017

thoughts from yesterday...

you come to me as the wind
that holds the wings
of the albatross aloft
the music of spirit
the stars have sang with light

but you are also of the earth
the immaculate temple
of the sacred geometry
of molecules that could dream
no better dream
than to manifest themselves
as you--
you the warm and beating earth
and home to celestial being

and all I have sent to dance
was my voice
when earth should be held
between the hands
and honoured with the soft footprints
of a journey toward a journey
and the warm and beating heart
should be touched with
the naked glory
of nothing left to hide

and for my hunger
to reach into the soil of you
I pulled this stone up
from the ocean floor
to pretend it holds the music
that comes only on the wind
just to have a fragment
of some imaginary land
to convince me
that I can reach the shore

and every day I'm drowning
with the weight of its illusion

for you
for the love of spirit
and of soil
today I let go of this idea
of an idea of you
I placed inside
the burden of mirage
and if you would see me
sacrifice this idol
you would think maybe
it is you
I have just let go

when I have only learned
that to swim across an ocean
one must have faith enough
to surrendered the weight 
of a fragment of earth
to reach the earth

and I am forever swimming
to reach that shore

Thursday, April 13, 2017

flailing to find a refuge
in my mind
some place where thoughts
are safe to think
some corner
of light and calm...

would you know how often
I find you waiting there
and that I am no longer
in my head at all
but safely in my heart

Tuesday, April 4, 2017

Chocolate Chip Anarchy: I Owe No One Pretty

women around the world
are dying for emancipation
and Facebook is trying to sell me
leggings to compress my ass
like asses are public property
we've been charged with the sacred duty
of keeping manicured
for the aesthetic pleasure
of whoever wants to view

fuck you public aesthetic ass voyeurs
sometimes anarchy and rebellion mean
it's time to eat another cookie