Maelestrom

Knowledge lost?
Knowledge betrayed?
Knowledge protected?

Couched away in myth and legend,
hidden in supposition.

Grains of truth
blowing,
swirling,
floating away.
Within reach,
but too fine to grasp.

Waiting for the winds to stop
and the onslaught
of the storm to ease.

Truth as grains of sand,
lying at my feet,
free for the taking,
ready to be taken,
too numerous to count,
irresistible nonetheless.

The Oak Tree

I sink into the comfort
of your embrace,
warmth humanified.
You wrap me in rapture
and ecstasy,
your hands oblivious
to anything but my skin
in long rapturous strokes.
I am electric beneath you;
your lips brush mine
and we spark.
When you are near,
I breathe more freely;
when your arms are around me,
I feel protected and safe
from the wicked night.

A Fable of Life

Once upon a time, there was a life. She was beautiful, wild and free. Then came other lives. They were captivated by this life and did whatever they could to capture her attention. She lived with them, breathed with them, loved with them, but retained her wildness and freedom. These other lives became so besotted with her that they ached to possess her fully. They were jealous that she gave her attention freely to all those lives that swirled around her, believing that they were the only ones worthy of her attentions. In their quest to make her theirs, to mold her into something that they perceived would be more beautiful, they shackled her, they raped her, they plundered her, they created huge scars in her flesh, and they imbued poisons into her systems. And in the end, when they had taken everything from her and left her bent and broken, they lost interest in her. Because in trying to possess her, they destroyed that which had originally made her attractive and irresistible to them in the first place - her wildness and freedom.

But in the end, she had the last laugh. Her life was long and at her core she retained the seeds of her identity, the origins of her beauty. She knew that they were dependent upon her for their very survival, but they had so crippled her that though she loved all life, she could not give them what she would have liked to give. Her nature was compassionate and her purpose was to support life, regardless of ignorance. The would-be conquerors moved on, but without her support and encouragement and love they could not live and so they died. Her longevity prevailed. Over time, she healed and she became beautiful and wild once again. And despite her past tragedies and the horrors and indignities that she had suffered, she continued to freely share her life with all other life. Those who respected her enjoyed the same longevity that she did. Those who did not respect her enjoyed the same fate as the would-be conquerors.

She knew that would-be conquerors would rise once again and that the cycle would begin and beget anew. The cycle is constant and endless. But she is the mother, she who sustains. She will always sustain life and the respectful and loving will survive. But woe to those who will try to conquer that which is not meant to be conquered, for they will be limited in their longevity, causing their own destruction by the force of their own forceful natures.

This is the fable of the Earth, the Mother, she who sustains.

For Now

Walking the sandy shores of today,
yesterday's expanse stretches behind,
faded footprints, memories in time,
washing away, blowing away,
as the sands of time shift and merge.
Tomorrow's promise stretches ahead,
the myriad of infinite tangled possibilities
that I walk towards
as today's sun recedes
and tomorrow's advances.

joyfully rising

my heart soars
on rays of sunlight
and twilight stars

it has been lifted free
of it's dark watery grave
unchained, unrestrained
i lift my head
to embrace what comes
i rejoice
in the bountiful abundance
that has been gifted to me

i awaken and see
that which is light
and that which is dark
twisting and merging
in glorious joining

New Beginnings

The swirling has slowed,
the merry-go-round near stopped.
Awareness expands,
an ever larger sphere.
Pervasive calm.
Contentment.

choices?

tantalizing
disconcerting
balancing on the edge
lightness, darkness
swirling consternation
teetering
tiring
face the light
hide in the dark
merge?

Ambivalent

Fear is your master,
bow down before him.
Fear is your maker,
you owe your life to him.
Tribute you pay him daily,
sniveling your fealty.
Strong as you may pretend,
he is your ruler in the end.

gods

eyes closed
crimson tides
white plains

scenes devoid of color
washed in nothing but

flying through the air
on wings of dark light
surveying a kingdom
shrouded in night

forked tongues flicker
hissing in mirth
battle of heat
battle of light
battle of hearth

always the observer
hardly participating
cataloging history whilst
subtly affecting the making

fly through the years
watching grains of sand
kingdoms rise and fall
seas ebb and flow
time is the constant
always constant

earth and skies
heavens and stars

death and rebirth

devilish...

angel my angel
where have you gone
imperfect angel
with bent broken wings
deceptive angel
lies on your lips
dark dirty angel
blackened in the fall
angel my angel
i miss you fornever

On My Terms

somewhere between now and then
somewhere between then and there
i lost myself down a dark dark road
i lost myself and nobody cared

spinning my wheels
spitting up sand
spinning in circles
too dizzy to stand

tied down and roped in
straining against the chains
grabbed hold of the handy knife
to start my life over again

just random thoughts

speak to me
speak through me
controversy reigns
it is the voice of change
challenge the status quo
it is the agent of change
think, learn, grow

A Little Girl

A little girl sits and plays,
being just a little girl.
She doesn't fit in,
she doesn't conform.
She is just a little girl
being a little girl.
She does what she's told,
she obeys her parents.
She hides in her room
when her daddy is drunk.
She cries in her room
when her daddy is drunk.

That little girl begins to grow up.
And she still doesn't fit in,
and she still doesn't conform.
That older girl dreams of romance,
but she's always alone; it never arrives.
That older girl waits for a man,
but she suspects she will be alone.
That older girl finally finds a man
who says he loves her, says its forever.
She hides in her room
when he leaves her alone.
She cries in her room
when he leaves her alone.

That little girl is all grown up.
And she still doesn't fit in,
and she still doesn't conform.
That woman grown is a child inside,
that woman grown is battered and worn.
Her heart is heavy and free and chained,
been stomped and scarred and burned.
That woman grown dreams of romance,
but she's always alone; it never arrives.
She hides in her room
some things never change.
She cries in her room
why don't things ever change?

That woman grown, though a child inside,
is a woman who has been through hell.
That woman grown has battle scars
and has emerged a little more whole.
She is strong and proud and true and loved,
rock solid foundation of friendship.
That woman grown may dream of romance,
but she knows she can survive life alone.
And though sometimes she must hide and cry
she'll always emerge to face life again.
And so she sits and dreams and smiles,
another day lived, loved, and tried.

Lately

Lately,
when I sleep I do not dream.
when I sit I grind my teeth.

Lately,
the smallest things seem way too big.
the biggest things seem so out of reach.

Lately,
I feel my body and soul do not fit.
I feel out of touch and disconnected.

Lately,
all I want is to not feel so restless yet trapped.
all I want is to feel like me again.

lullabye

kill me

not softly
not gently

with malice
with intention

don't listen to my cries
close your ears
cover my eyes

don't rock me
as my life pours out
don't brush my face
don't feel sad

take away my breath
and then walk away
and let me die

Continuing frustration...

Droplets splatter on the page in front of me,
crimson obscures the vision of what is there.
I close my eyes and will away the pain
wishing, wanting, waiting, hoping...disappointed.
My mind is a chaotic mess of reason,
thoughts whirling and blowing out of comprehension;
my heart is scarred and broken on the ground,
emotions tightly coiled then suddenly free.
I want to run away, I want to hide.
I want to stand and fight, I want to be seen.
I have a vision of a mountain top where I stand and scream.
It overlooks an empty valley; so no one hears.
Where is my voice?
Where is my strength?
Why is it that every time I think I've found myself,
once again she's gone in the blink of an eye?

Forward in Truth

Thank you for your silence,
it has helped quell the noise
that exists always in my head,
which, among other things,
surrounds me with questions
of the us that never existed.

The voices whispered advice,
correct but difficult to admit;
sometimes a mystery
is simply meant to be a mystery.

That wispy fog is lifting;
Freedom, my inspiration,
is lifting her head,
giving me her hand
to help me forward once again.

I have no guide,
save Fear,
whispering doubts into my ear...
what if you fail?
what if you succeed?

But Curiosity stands beside me,
my constant, sometimes rash, companion,
he who wishes to be my champion,
propelling me toward the future.

I have only to hope
that Courage will also walk with me
for it is him whose help I need most.

why won't it stop?

in the night, in the day
surrounded by a blanket of others
cuddled into fuzzy warm comfort
oblivion found outside of my mind

but when i am alone
emptiness closes, tightens, darkens
and the cold seeps into my bones
tumbling and turning in my head

can't say goodbye, can't let go
tired of holding on
arms shaking, muscles straining
stubbornly refuse to relax

well worn groove in the ground
from running the same track
paths branch and whisper off
only to return to the same circle

Aching to Pace

a familiar restlessness
creeps into focus
on the periphery
of my consciousness
edging it's way into existence
slowly slyly shifting
it draws near, draws nigh
frustrating in it's insistence
exciting in it's promise
mysterious in it's intent
curious in it's purpose

that feeling
once cured with idle wantonness
and lustful pursuits
now merely uncurable restlessness
frustrated boredom
where do i go from here
so tired of saying i don't know

Released

in my mind,
in my heart,
i have made peace with you

a once familiar presence
a twin of the soul
an unintentional inspiration

from beyond, the call is heralded
souls entwined for eternity
wished for or not, it is truth

rash words, rash judgments
fits of passion, jumps to anger
all due to lack of comprehension

now, understanding dawns
and you have been released
continue your search for destiny

but one question remains in my heart
why did you refuse to look into my eyes
what were you afraid you would see

Merely Musings

For me, writing is akin to breathing. I can stop anytime I want...for short periods of time...but while I live it is something I must do, something I do naturally and without thinking.


I've had this phrase swirling around my brain for years now and had intended to get it translated into Gaelic and have it tattooed. But for some reason I never did that. I realize now why that was. It's because it was incomplete. And because Gaelic is the wrong language to use...I should use English. The now-completed phrase? "On the journey of life, follow your heart - dance to it's music, heed it's wisdom, be comforted by it's love."


People spend their lives in search of a treasure that exists within them every moment of every day.


My destiny is a montage of images in front of my eyes, made up of my experiences and insights. A film that only I can see, omens that only I can interpret.


The creation of perfection eludes me.
Until I realize that it is folly
to attempt to create perfection
in an imperfect world.
Imperfection is, in itself,
beautifully perfect.

Give Me Your Hand

Lost soul, tentative soul
traversing the edges of the universe,
pacing at the shoreline,
toe testing the temperature of the deeps
before you cannonball in.
The water may sometimes be rough;
it may not always be warm;
but there is always something happening.
Don't miss out,
have courage,
take a chance.
Dive in!

In my Dreams

In my dreams I delude myself.
In my dreams you are there.
We meet and embrace,
we speak and share and laugh.
In my dreams I watch you as you create
and your words and images are of me.
In my dreams you inspire me
and my creation flows effortlessly from within.
We touch one another,
body, mind and soul,
electrified so deeply it defies words,
simple and ecstatic, wild and free.
But it must be in my dreams
for I know you not and I awake alone.
In my dreams you are there,
and I no longer want to sleep.

Simply

Why do I feel so helpless,
like I'm lost in a dream?
I live a life of privilege,
but not by Western means.
Should I feel guilt
or overwhelming despair?
How do I move forward
when I don't know how to get there?
I'm such a tortured anguished soul
until reality rears her head.
And then I'm merely thankful,
for benevolence,
food in my belly, a roof over my head.

War-torn

I have no more tears to shed
I'm so tired of crying
yet the liquid still glistens wetly
trickling from eyes that do not wish to see
yet will not allow themselves to close

The solution to grief, to pain, to fear?

One man's justice is another's injustice
One man's horror is another's reality

The beautiful fragility of life, of humanity,
violently torn to shreds on a whim.

Drip, drip, drip

black diamonds glisten wetly
paving the road this endless night
my mind a hazy fog, walking along,
blinded by my uncertain nature
the comfort of a familiar haven
unfamiliar on this night
my passion is draining down
the irresistible whirlpool of disillusionment
my demise, my reprise

Hiatus? Who am I kidding?

I don't want to wander through life
holding onto a past that never was,
ghosts amidst the shadows, flickers of light,
hopes and fears, whispered regrets,
only to wake up one dark day
and realize it was all wasted.

The balance between hope and dream,
myth and reality is tenuous.
The muse I never asked for, unwanted,
lives on and on, silently scratching in my mind,
playfully stoking the fires of my creativity.
The one glorious genius constant
in my inconsistent existence.

Warm Caramel (S. B.)

magical moments
beneath blue sunny skies
time freezes
something in your eyes
private moments in public
your hands on my skin
calm oblivion surrounds us
giggling shuts out the din
a day filled with laughter
many moments of fun
a day to remember
courtesy of the sun
you have entered my life
your soul has brushed my heart
i read kindness and goodness
good place for friends to start

Ink

Ink
Dancing across my skin
Indelibly

Hope Eternal

I hold the hand of hope,
clutching for dear life.
She never disappoints.

Dreamer

If we are so enamored with our dreams and possiblities,
why don't we try harder to manifest that in real life?

Blinded

Following a slice of light out of the darkness,
she lifts her head and realizes
the only reason why it was dark
is because her eyes were closed.
She had blinded herself.
It is easy to become lost
when you refuse to see.

Subconsious Haunting

like a whispered voice in the darkness
like a ghost in a dream
i wonder where you are
i wonder what you think

An Audience of One

Ofttimes I wonder
are you out there somewhere
reading the words that I write?
Do you know they are about you?
Do you know that you inspire me
to half awake dreaminess
in muddled fuzzy realities
even in your absence, your silence?
A muse is a strange thing.
Unwanted, unasked for,
but needed and welcome,
despite the circumstances.

Inside

From the outside
she appears calm;
from the outside
she appears strong.
Beneath the surface lingers
tempestuous maelstrom,
whirlwind of emotion,
deluge of tears,
thunderclap of frustration,
threatening at any moment
to explode into tiny bits.
A mass of confetti
littering the barren carpet
of earthly delight.
That is this life.

Waking Dreams

I'm tumbling and falling darkly into oblivion's well;
I fear I need pain's aide to be pulled back from the edge.
The rhythmic pounding of blood in my brain;
the wings of black alabaster buffeting wind in my face.

Familiar stranger, ghost in my mind,
lately I've seen your face in my dreams.
'Tis passing strange for I've always dreamed,
though a face has ne'er appeared through the fog.
Was it your soul calling out to me,
or am I simple and crazy?
My restless wandering spirit projecting
to ease my alone and lonely feeling.

What is the might-have-been,
what is the might-still-be?
It is the familiar, that I always return to;
yet 'tis still strange for it is unknown.

It is bodies melting together like molten glass,
dancing and flowing in the passionate flame.
It is the spark of sweet hot breath
when lips almost touch, softly brush.
It is the comfort of a warm down quilt
wrapped around me on a cold winter night.
It is the trickle of a bead of salty sweat
slowly coursing down a warm supple spine.

Zombies

the drones drift by
tip-toe, tick tock
faceless, mindless
their voices in my head
pounding, voiceless

Shades of Grey

the harbingers of change blow
on a day grey with anticipation

my muse haunted my dreams last night
fanciful false images of a future
that might-have-been, might-still-be

hope eludes as sleep did last night

my barren life stretching before me
endlessness in sight

Perceptions

My eyes, they shine so bright today
in this room of my mind with a view.
'Tis merely within my own mind's eye,
but perception and heart they shine through.
A grizzled old man sits down beside me
chain smoking, and harshly coughing.
All others around pretend he's invisible
yet for some reason his soul calls to me.
What would it be like wonders my mind
to live in his invisible world?
Existing and living and breathing always
whilst all deny you are there in their eyes.
The passers-by they don't stop and stare,
merely spare an uncomfortable glance.
He sits and chain smokes coughing harshly,
a dignified king on a throne in his world.

Ritual Comfort

Struggling to breathe,
sitting in uncomfortable sanctity.
Burning incense singes my mind.
Take me away on wings of black alabaster,
knees bent in worship of a different kind.
Within a temple of comfortable ritual dreams.

Closed

The slow trickle.
The terrifying burn.
The ebb and flow of lives lived,
lives lost,
lives yet to be.
For a brief time
I've closed my eyes,
my heart,
my mind.
The pain is too sharp
to be open right now.

Searching

ebony and alabaster
flare of smoke, stench of oily flame
the candle flickers, dance of light
divine inspiration
lost in the blink of an eye
through fields of mirth
and back again
seeking muses amidst the pain

Reaper

rustle of feathers as
night's air rushes past
raven's call beckons

In Memory, Henry Young (1929-2008)

Life, racing past.
Moments in time,
lived, brushed over.
Time is elusive
running away with
fleeting memories
day by day.
The hours turn into months,
months to years.
Time slows to a crawl,
suddenly interrupted.
Life ticks to a standstill.
The peace that eluded
his restless spirit
here on earth,
in this life,
granted in abundance.
Eternal peaceful rest.
He was loved.
He will be missed.
He lives on in all of us,
fleeting memories,
day by day.
Eternal peaceful rest.

Fallen Angel

fallen angel,
having tumbled out of the heavens
snowy white, downy feathered wings
tattered and torn, shredded,
singed by the hellfires
that cushioned your fall
speak to me oh muse of my dreams
'tis not me who chose you
but fate eternal that drew us
unsuspecting, unwilling souls together
we are moths drawn too near a flame
heat that sustains
heat that burns
our goal remains the same oh phoenix
that your wings will sprout anew
and that you will fly from the ashes
a new beginning to a circuitous life

Dawn

Gauzy floating mist,
shifting, shimmering.
She floats,
she hovers, she glides,
flitting in and out of hazy focus.
Hurry!
Catch her, find her!
The sun rises soon,
the mists burn off,
and she will be gone
faded into nothingness.
For 'tis in the early morning
near-darkness, near-lightness
that she exists,
that she survives.

Reluctance

you are the embodiment
of arrogance
cold, unfeeling, darkness

i challenge you
in my subtle way
scream at you
in the recesses of my mind

you hide in darkness
you slither back to your comfort
fiery dankness

though i've not won and won't
whilst you hold the puppet strings
sorcerer, you still remain
my inspiration, my muse

somehow captured a piece of me
and your spell won't let go
tied, entwined, can't let go, forever

i read of the past and i weep
whilst i dream romanticized visions
of what might have been
and mayhap never shall be

but no matter my soul's cost
no matter my heart's time
always i return in my mind

to forget would be divine and terrible
moving on a blessing, yet a sin
and still, across all the sands of time
you merely have but to call

'tis as if some sorcery has bound me
fettered and chained still at that altar
straining against invisible bonds

your call trumpets across time and space
i hear it whether you intend or no
our souls are welded somehow
not something i want, but something i know

Regret, pure and simple

fragile heart
like rice paper
easily torn
tears falling
keep them away
sweet regret
beautiful sadness
poignant tears
unrequited love
missed connection
time, time, time
passes cruelly
life continues
regret remains

The Spark

Fireflies
exploding in my brain.
Flashes of creativity,
flashes of light.
Clarity.
Foggy on a rainy day,
stuck in the mist,
moving forwards
without moving.

split focus
shifting consciousness
dualities

Dreamy Destiny

I am the ice queen,
standing stiffly motionless
in a garden of winter roses.
Their subtle scent a sweet perfume
tickling the senses
as I breathe crystal and snow.

A Love Yet to Be Known

Where are you tonight?
Looking up at the stars from underneath
the great black sea of sky,
I imagine you up on a hill behind me.
Looking down on me.
Your spirit playfully flies on the wind,
ruffling my hair with your breath,
wrapping me in your warmth.
Though I cannot see you,
I spread my arms to embrace you.
I close my eyes and smile,
feeling you near me always.
My familiar stranger, twin of my soul.
Watching over me from afar,
feeling you ever near, but never near.

On Writing

S0metimes my words fly away from me, unheeded, unshepherded, completely free and unknown. My pen merely moving across the page, or fingers flying across the keyboard, unconscious of the next letter until it is formed. It is at these times that I feel a woman possessed. It is at these times that I feel most free.

Mine

Bent my heart around someone else,
bent my mind around your ideals,
bent my life around what you wanted,
and now I've broken free.
My life is now my own,
my heart is for whomever I wish.
No longer is it your business
what or who I chose to do...

Awakening

Wind rushing past her ears,
she falls towards the earth,
arms spread wide,
eyes closed against the dizzying height.
Her heart and mind are open,
poised, ready.

The weary traveller, finally,
opens her eyes,
blinking in the harsh light,
squinting, eyes watering.
She stretches her limbs,
shakes her head.
Realizes that the wind cushions her fall.
As she hurtles earthward,
her eyes focus.

And after a seemingly eternal
fear-imposed slumber,
she AWAKENS!

She has long been avoiding this free-fall,
for she knows the way will not be easy.
Courage, perseverance,
conviction, strength unwavering
are her weapons.

She is up for the challenge.

The Story of Submission

I will submit to you,
sweetly, sexually, sensually,
with abandon,
with joy even.
But never will you be
master of my life.

Raven

The darkness that resides within my soul
beats glorious dark wings of heavenly madness.
The oblivion I seek resides within my mind
where the darkness and madness exist in abundance
and where lust, love, and joy merge into one whole.
Revelry and abandon.

Numb

Everything is so simple in the dark,
when I'm banging my head rhythmically
against a cold concrete wall,
and it doesn't even hurt anymore
that you abandoned me and are gone.
And I'm numb to all feeling
and can't feel the pain
of a love that was there, embraced
yet I pushed it away;
of a love that wasn't, won't be
yet haunts me still anyway;
of a love that I asked for, wished for
yet in the light it went away.
And in the darkness I sit here alone
bruises all over a body battered and worn,
invisible to the eye, yet they exist.
And still here I sit, rocking and cold,
skull a battering ram against unyielding stone.

In the hussle and bussle
of a downtown inner city park,
the trees spread their arms
in magnificence,
drawing a cloak of leaves
close around them to shade
their bountiful roots.
Silence and peace amidst the chaos.
Another world that defies time.
Slow down.

T.S.F.

In the passionate heat of summer
I sit and shyly ponder the memory
of a magically mundane day
made special by the presence of you.
The sandy shores conformed uniquely
as we sat and contemplated youth.
Shared thoughts made memories as
the salt air caressed our skin.
Magestic oaks spread above us,
bees buzzing about their business,
the sun shining approvingly on all,
a slippery seal curiously stares.
Laughter golden in our eyes,
the surf reflecting our shared mirth,
a symphony of sounds and silence,
our hearts open and alive.
A single moment in time, forever,
a piece of my treasure gifted to you.

Baited with Bated Breath

A hand hangs, extended in the air,
grasping nothing but what is there,
nothing;
held up by nothing but willfulness.
You seemed to shun even the most innocent
gesture of friendship,
and made it more than it was:
false promises, disproportionate fantasies.

Why do you mock me?
Your gesture of decency shrouded in mystery.
'Tis more than happenstance
was your crude claim, your refrain.
You shove me away,
then invade my world again.
Why do you hide?
Why do you run?

A hand hangs, extended into the balance.
No need to be tentative anymore,
no need for caution, for cloak and dagger.
The time for daring is at hand.
Actors on a stage are we all,
and thus thy time is at hand.
Unmask thyself dear heart, dear soul --
first to thyself, and then to the world.

This complex and complicated dance continues,
though I'd almost rather it wouldn't.
It seems that 'tis in fact more than happenstance.
You leading, whilst I tumble and stumble,
pulled along in the wake of the unknown.
I'm tired of trying to dance unknowing and blind.
And so, I break away to dance alone,
though I look back with a wink and a smile.

This is the last of it,
this is all that I have left.
My endurance is not what it once was.
My desire is fading into the mists.
Master of the game, master of the dance,
I bow to you, this round you win.
Enjoy your old world, whatever oblivion you find.
'Till divergent paths may converge once again.

A Room For A Night

She has just showered. Literally scrubbed herself almost raw in an effort to be as clean as possible. Why is it that she never feels clean anymore? She washed her hair three times before using the luxurious deep conditioner, leaving it on for longer than usual to ensure that her hair would be exceedingly soft.

She toweled dry, almost dry, using a pristinely white, fluffy towel and then stepped out of the shower onto the floor of the spotless hotel bathroom. She tossed the towel into the tub behind her and grabbed a fresh towel, wrapping her hair turban-like. She assumed the level of cleanliness in this place would far surpass those of others due to the exorbitant nightly fee. She padded naked into the hotel room, luxuriating in the feeling of cleanliness and warmth.

She had searched for a long time to find a place that fully met her requirements. It is rather difficult to find a hotel with white decor. But she wanted white: white towels, white linens, white duvet. White, white, white. Not so much a color as a lack of color. And clean. Cleanliness was critical.

She wandered over to her bag, removing candles. White, vanilla scented candles. Twenty of them, one for each of her years of life. She placed them around the room, lighting each one reverently, delighting in the heady warmth and scent arising from them. Finished with this task, she removed the rugs from her bag and placed one on each side of the king bed in the room. Moroccan crimson rugs, the contrast striking in the colorless room. Satisfied, she smiled and placed the last item from her bag in the center of the bed and turned off the lights, candlelight creating a warm, inviting glow.

She removed the towel from her hair, mostly dry now, and walked back over to the bathroom doorway, tossing the towel into the tub to join its mate. Her long raven hair draped damply down her back, caressing her scrubbed skin. Padding over to the bed, she luxuriated in the thick pile of the carpet underneath her feet. Oh, the joy of this night. Finally.

She arranged herself cross-legged in the center of the huge bed and opened the case she had placed there earlier. Removing the contents, she reflected momentarily. Such a shame really, she thought as she examined the brand new straight razor in the soft glow of candlelight. Such a waste of white and clean. But ultimately, ridiculously poetic.

Crimson on white.

Enough is enough.

A rope tightens around me,
dissenters dance lightly,
wildly,
turning, twisting, tightening,
needling, whining, annoying.
Some turn their backs,
some step back to consider,
some stare in horror.
In the middle,
wind whipping at my hair,
restraints tightening around me,
I stand.
Coiled tension within my muscles,
power coursing through me
connecting me from ground to sky.
They do not see,
they do not look.

ENOUGH!!

Finally, I snap.

With my last breath,
I inhale.
I gather all my power.
And then I let it all go.
I open my mouth to scream,
to bellow, to holler.
And miraculously,
my voice has finally returned.

ROAR!!!!!

Insanity

Conversations with myself...or with the voices in my head. These happen often and increasingly so lately.

I am increasingly aware of how outside of the mainstream consciousness that I exist. Does this denote madness or awakeness? I fear I walk a fine line of balance between sanity and madness, that I am walking a tenuous path. Why do I cling to sanity? It is merely defined by the mainstream and by those who seek to be 'normal'. It seems that madness would be a relief, a natural progression of things. That this would be an excuse for me to exist as I wish, to "Do what thou wilt" as I would already be judged as 'that crazy girl' and therefore my actions would no longer cause any type of surprise to those around me. Why do I care, I don't care...I cease caring. And yet, the duality within me, the everpresent existence cares; this I cannot deny though I seek to. I don't care, I do care, I don't care, I do care...neverending beating in my skull, pounding in my head. My bright eyes view the world in a new light every day. What to do? Who knows what the future will bring. More knowledge, more knowledge. The quest is neverending.

I fear to let go, I fear to reveal the true me. I fear that she will be uncontained, uncontrolled, brilliant. I fear that she will run away with me, that the part of me that lets go will injure the part of me in control. That she will not want to relinquish the freedom that she will be afforded and that I will never exist again if she takes hold. Ironic that my greatest fear is to be caged and yet I fear also freedom, ironic that I cage myself and refuse to let go. That I cling to control with all limbs, that fear of freedom pervades my existence almost as much as fear of cages. Iron bars wrapped around my essence, welded to my very skeleton, my very being. No wonder it is so difficult to let myself out...I have entrenched them so fully into who I am.

And yet, let go I must. Time, time, time...I have time, eons, and yet I have none. It flows through my fingers, grasping fingers...trying to hold on, trying to let go. It slips, it slides, and yet there are so many lifetimes after this one. Why do we seek to rush and yet to hold on, to hold back? We are such paradoxical beings. The sands flow, they ebb, they flow....

Perspectives

My perspective is a mask of sanity.
My sanity is a mask of perspective.
Yours, pushed upon me, forced upon me,
for your own selfish comfort.
Oh sure, I appear stable,
but push any button,
the facade cracks and light bursts forth.
Veils drop, stone walls explode.
My true face is revealed.
And I become
the stuff of your nightmares.

Walking the Knife's Edge

on beating wings, the pounding inside my head
threatens to explode through my fragile skull

that which I do not know,
which I cannot remember,
sits in the eye of the maelstrom,
arms crossed, smug smile
on the face of the unnameable

surrounded by light, swirling madness,
calm darkness, intensely hazy

the light shines, the heat warms, passion inflames,
the birds chatter inanely and sweetly,
a heavenly gift

and I let go,
surrendering to my descent into the sweet oblivion
that is madness

where truth and lies merge and enmesh,
where reality and unreality become the same beast,
where the line between good and evil is muddied
and uncertain,
where light and darkness coexist,
where life and death are indescribable and inseparable

wait, is that madness,
insanity,
or is it merely the awakening

O Faithless Pride

Painting a picture of beauty,
of hope, of wicked desire,
of wanton lust,
of duality fulfilled.
My other, twin of my nature,
keeper of my soul,
if such even exists.
Promises whispered of
truth and understanding.
And we, travellers both,
searching for knowledge,
for purpose,
insatiable,
unslakeable.
And 'tis a constant existing
restless and on sanity's edge.
Maniacal laughter bursts forth
from the bowels of hell
at the core of my soul.
This world knows us not,
welcomes us not.
Other worlds dare not.
And so we wander,
alone.
Our pride standing fast,
shadowing our destiny,
preventing our happiness.

Wholeness

The serpent lies coiled,
resides at the root of me,
ropes of red light,
ready to strike.
But not in malice,
nor in evil.
Rather in knowledge,
light and truth,
enlightenment,
awakening.
Light begets light,
shining brightly,
moving upward,
interconnectivity.
Red brightens to orange,
brightens to yellow.
Glowing from the center,
radiating strength and power,
craving justice.
Breathe green rays of
compassion,
understanding, love,
washing over the whole of me.
Sing truths from a sky of blue,
radiating, vibrating throughout
this flesh that is a gift.
Darkening indigo intuitions
allow insights and perceptions
of the spirit of creativity
to flow ever upwards,
ever downwards, ever outwards.
Culmination at a crown of violets,
soft, connected, at one with all.
Searching for the light in all.
And the truth, the wholeness,
it is within us all;
it is light and darkness,
it is energy flowing through us,
flowing out of us.
Connecting us with each other,
with the earth, with the universe.
What a blessing are we.

Sweet research...I seek to know, to understand. But it seems for all that I learn, for all that I read, there is more...just out of reach, teasing, laughing.

Oh, the irony...

He beckons, I answer.
Cocky, saucy, sassy
in my response.
Deliberate provocation.
And yet, it is natural
to bend, to bow gracefully;
to submit to his will.
For all my strength,
for all my control,
it is in sweet submission
that I find my freedom.

i live in a world
betwixt and between
alive and awake
sometimes waking dreams
'tis when i feel dead
that i start to wonder
why i exist in a world
of unpeaceful slumber
and in those moments
when there is a perfect clear
my destiny calls out
another decision is near

Missed

And tonight I laid here,
music on the radio tugging at my brain,
memories of you traversing my synapses.
Phantom arms wrap around me,
phantom lips kiss my face.
Remembering how you turned
the last time I saw you.
No smile, no wave, no words,
just goodbye.
And tonight I wondered,
did you ever cry?
Was moving on easy for you?
Did another replace me?
Do I ever cross your mind?
Do you miss our brief time?
I shed tears at the might-have-been.
Moving on has not been easy.
I'm still here, just me.
I think of you with a smile.
I wish it had been longer.

I will never forget you,
my heart will forever hold your memory,
I will forever love you.

'spection

I marvel at perspective
twisted pontification
how memory alters with time

it amuses me to consider
how we deceive ourselves
and deny our truths
when they are dangled before us
cosmic carrots on spangled strings
quivering and shaking mirthfully
as though the gods themselves
quake with laughter
at our foolish naivety

how young are we
how inexperienced in many ways
so much to learn, so little time

Silence

In the calm, still surrender,
I wonder.
Is this the aftermath,
or merely the beginning.
I arrive at this point often
as I twirl round and round
on the same axis.
Why do I fight
the natural gravitational pull?
Because it feels unnatural
of course!
Because it is in my nature
to resist the normal
in favor of the abnormal.

Unborn

I've never met you,
and yet the strength of my love for you
bubbles up from a heretofore unknown
volcanic mountain spring within me
courses through my many splendored veins
to my open and abundant heart
and threatens to murder me
with it's wondrous explosiveness.
Possibility and wonder overwhelm
my conscious and unconsciousness
with the power and dynamic of that
which would seek to nurture me
and yet have cause to destroy me.
The mere thought of you and I
and who you can be for me and for you
and who I can be for you and for me
cause my senses to overload and my
precious and tenuous sanity to teeter
on the brink of insatiable insanity.
How is this even possible?

Waiting, for now...

Dancing in the wings,
afraid to face the crowd.
Heart lifted, unafraid, unobserved.

How

voices whispering in my head
screaming, yelling, laughing
you, you, you, you, you
not anymore
tired of living for other people
there must be a way, must be
a way to live for me
without being self-centered
must be a way for me
to be me, to look out for me
because no one else does
alone
alone
on my own
freeing, freedom, wings
alone
lonely, sad, tears
liberated, happiness
its all about me in the end
because i am me
because i live from my eyes,
my mind, my perspective
so even if i live for others
i am living for others from me
but i need to put me first
don't know how to do that
so conflicted
so uncertain

Hanging in the Balance

Summoned, she stands before him,
his request suspended unspoken between them.
Unflinching, she looks deeply into his eyes,
drops her gauzy veils and issues a dare.
Reflected within limpid pools of indeterminate color
he may see all that she is, all that she will be.
Sorrow, pain, anguish, rage,
joy, ecstasy, love, compassion, confusion.
A soundless cry is released to the four corners
for elemental wisdom, for answers.
The replies are typical.
Earth merely grunts with tones of growth and comfort.
Air playfully whispers answers lost in the breeze.
Fire responds licking with heat and tongues of passion.
Water gurgles playfully, running past without care.
And so she is left to decide for herself.
Uncertainty requires reflection.

You Again...

My frustration beats a tempo
inside my thick cottony skull.
Is deprivation the answer?
The brilliant plan was to enlighten,
to make it all clearer.
Whenceforth I find things hazier.

I dreamed of you again last night.
Your presence beside me,
masculine and strong, warm and gentle.
You invaded my dreams, waking dreams.
Did you feel it too?
I struggled against waking,
did not want to leave our world.
Did you feel it too?
Together we fit like no other I've felt,
our minds merging in melodious harmony,
our bodies entwined in love, lust, passion,
our souls meshed in comfort and softness.
Content merely to lay with you,
feeling you, touching you, breathing with you,
being at one with you.

And yet, I know not your face.
Though I have faith you exist somewhere.
Still you are hazy in my mind's eye.
Until we meet one day soon...

And now...

...I finally realize.

The pieces have fallen into place,
I understand what was missing.
I love you all, the ones I've left behind.
That love came out of acceptance
of all you are, of all you can be,
of the light I saw shining within all of you.

I chose to love you all.
And once the choice is made,
it cannot be unmade.
I will carry a piece of all of you
within my heart for all of time.
I will always love you all.
No matter what you feel for me.

Your side is irrelevant.
My closure is my own.
I have more love to give,
but to do so must move on.
Goodbye, farewell, good luck.
Perhaps we'll meet again,
perhaps not.

But none of you can ever escape
the love I hold for each of you in my heart.

The Shallows

Look at all the fish,
swimming in their shallow little bowls.
Many colors, many shapes,
googly eyes staring out of the glass,
uncomprehending and glassy,
pretty, but small and insignificant.
Turning round and round,
same old circles, same old patterns.
I'm tired and I'm bored.
I want to go deeper,
to explore the depths of the ocean.
I want to break out of my little bowl,
and see the great beyond,
stare at the great fish in the deeps.
These little fish are nice to look at,
but there is nothing else there.

Ahhh, the irony...

From he I read love and hope and wishes,
in dark brown eyes set within the face
of a man I know I can never love
in the capacity that he would adore.
It saddens me, it hurts my heart.
Here is provided goodness, love, gentleness,
and it is not what I would take.
Here in front of me is the soul of a man
who would give all for merely a night.
And how do I repay this generosity?
With rejection, though it is mere honesty.
Is this not what I have asked for?
Is this not my heart's desire?
Yes and no, the conflicted answer,
to the ironic request of the universal force.
It is somewhat of that which I have asked,
and I treasure the friendship that has evolved,
but the flip side of the coin is a request.
And it has been requested.

true nature?

icy circles spinning sideways
concentric lines standing parallel

i sit, listening to the music of rain
slamming against my window
pattering on the concrete outside
though i am warm and dry
a chill runs up my spine

the elements roil against one another
at war, constant conflict within myself
contradiction has always been my way
fearlessness always just out of reach
control i cling to fiercely with all limbs

moment to moment, beat by beat
letting all go creates the symphony
lest life pass me by in a whirlwind
of riotous sound and melodious color
whilst i sit in a cage of my own design

balance is that which i seek
and companionship for the remaining journey

shhhhh

soar with me on waves of light
tiptoe through the ether
peeking through the strands of time
smile at what is unknown
cottony clouds of nothingness
clinging to our earthly veils
holding us fixed in our paths
lest we stray as we do

A Wish

Enveloped in warmth,
caring arms before a fire.
Soft words whispered
from the lips of a love
to the ear of a beloved.
Crisp mountain air,
falling autumn leaves.
Sun setting over the ocean
in pink and orange and red.
Lovers breath,
warm on the neck.
Soft laughter, giggles,
bottle of champagne.
Celebration.
Alone together.
One night in a lifetime.
Bliss.
Ecstasy.

Flawed

cracks on the surface
the flaws run deep
caution and care
no
not delicate though
beauty and grace
a hidden prize
yes
love to be discovered
caring and wealth
cherish and adore

My Crazy World

guardians of unreality
at the gateposts of the underworld
solid crumbling stone
blue grey black and green
fierce and unknowing
stolid and steadfast
in the face of the known

standing on the edge of the precipice
over a fall into nowhere
staring down into fullness
and up into emptiness
alone and yet surrounded
empty and yet somehow full
bursting at the seams

crack of thunder blast of lightening
channeling energy through the abyss
what should hurt does not
what should not always does
small and mundane
somehow always large and important
black day red night

sun rises below moon rises under
everything is nothing
rediscovery of that which is unknown
learning that which is known
they who were are no longer
what should be is nevermore
what will be is yet to be determined

streaming in my head
thoughts turning over one another
squirming squeezing squishing
pounding and beating to get out
consciousness is unconscious
they fight they scream they cry
they laugh they speak they die

crazy am i crazy
merely true merely real
unreality is truth and reality
secrets long visible for all to reach
but no one really looks
opening the mind dropping the defenses
all too much all too much

Fanciful Thoughts

Beautiful words, fanciful ideas,
tugging at the apron strings
of my soul.
Petulant children,
annoying and impractical.
I turn away, brush them off,
push them away,
but still they have hold,
tugging and pulling relentlessly.
Somehow petulance and annoyance
have become endearing;
weaseled into my consciousness
and ingrained themselves!
My defense mechanisms
no longer work;
the walls are so thin now,
threatening to crumble,
so that I lie vulnerable and true.
A mere breath, soft breeze
tears the membrane away
and there I am.
My creativity and freedom,
lain dormant for so long,
now unleashed and free to roam.
Within that which I have feared
I find that for which I have searched.
Freedom and creativity and truth
in vulnerability.
Ironic, non?

Suddenly

All of a sudden,
out of the blue,
I realize it's true.
I'll never forget you.
Any of you.

But suddenly,
futility at caring,
freedom in sharing,
letting go is daring.
I am daring.

Epiphany!
Though there is love,
It's over.
And I'm done caring.
I release you all.

Relinquished to the past,
staring at the future.
Casting off my shackles,
embracing possibility.
First breath of the present.

Moment to moment...
So free,
so right,
so perfect.
Suddenly, I can breathe again!

Freedom

In the here and now,
I sit,
I exist,
I contemplate.
The past has been written,
nothing can be altered.
It affects the present,
but does not rule it
unless we allow that.
Acceptance.
The future is irrelevant,
what will occur is unknown
and exciting and terrifying.
Adrenaline.
Exhilaration.

In this moment,
I feel light, calm, centered.
More certain and tranquil.
No longer will I allow myself
to be controlled by others.
My only master
henceforth is myself.
No more silence,
no more submission,
no more servitude or surrender.
Strength and solidity define me.
Chin lifted, defiant.

The room is furnished, warm, inviting.
Windows and doors are flung open.
I sit, I exist in the present,
allowing whatever may be to approach,
welcoming, loving, embracing.
Truth seeker,
truth teller,
truth knower.
I am ready.
To sit alone, to sit together,
no difference
but companionship.
I move from the room when I wish,
roaming, exploring,
returning when I choose.

A smile creeps across my face.
I am home,
I am whole.
Content.
Peaceful.

Rockabilly

God I miss you.
Intensely.
The way you smell,
the way you feel,
the way we fit each other.
The way we laughed,
the way we talked,
the man that you are,
the man I know that you can be.
I keep wondering
if I made a terrible mistake.
If I played out the ending
before it had even begun.
I keep wondering
what happened to us,
where we went wrong.
Was it something I said?
Was it something I did?
I don't even know if we
were ever meant to be
or if you were merely
a stop along my journey.
Why have you crossed my mind
so damn much lately?
Damn you, I fell for you.
And then you dropped me,
no phone call, no message,
no talking it through.
You just walked away.

God I miss you.
Intensely.

Honesty

Words, ideas, belch out onto a page,
tears cloud my vision,
anger is a red haze in the back of my mind,
joy creeps peacefully through my body,
love is ever-present in my heart.

I've tried to change my patterns,
no more running in circles, dizzily falling down,
no more fear to say what is necessary and right.
And yet it is all a curse and without trying,
my patterns continue to bite me.

Gifts of truth, gifts of energy.
Thanks and gratitude, yet sadness
as I live on the outskirts of social arenas
craving closeness and yet knowing it is forbidden.
Loneliness while alone, yet surrounded and full.

Honesty is a path of loneliness, and yet,
it is truth that attracts me more than any other
in the search for knowledge, love, happiness.
For all the times I have considered walking with another
my patterns return me to the path of myself.

Am I to walk alone forever?
Is this the price of that which I desire?
Arms ache to hold, lips ache to kiss,
heart aches to be filled and to feel that from another.
To be alone, forbidden to be complete?

Games We Play

From across the games table where we sit,
I smile at him familiarly
fondly
intimately.
"Have you always been so stubborn?"
I ask patiently
mirthfully
lightly.
"How can you not see that you are a slave
to your own twisted reason and logic?
You have shackled yourself in a
one-dimensional box --
proverbially buried your head in the sand.
Fearing to open your eyes and see the truth.
To open your eyes and mind and live!"
LET GO!!!
I grow weary of playing this same game
again and again,
as addictive as it is in it's simple complexity
I am tired
bored.
We have both sinned, transgressed, hurt.
We both have scars.
How long do we need to sit at this table,
close enough to touch but not daring to,
flinging cruel barbs at one another
before we
(and by we I mean you)
finally let go and be who we were meant to be?
How long must we atone for our pasts?
We regard one another dispiritedly
warily
resignedly.
He broods and sulks.
I smile sadly and finally turn away,
shoulders slumped.
Knowing that one day this situation
will be at an end, resolved,
but it will always be a scar that hurts to touch.

Reflections...

My heart filled with love,
that dull undefinable,
wonderful ache!
Sadness in letting go,
joy in experiencing,
pride in knowing.
I support,
I love,
I forgive,
I hurt.
It is enough to know
that I have affected
in some small way
a course of events.
That I have poked and prodded
and perhaps aided awakenings.
Arrogance?
No...
Everything that we do
affects someone in some way,
whether we or they admit it or not.
Timing is everything.
Satisfaction is it's own reward,
despite any hurts along the way.
So much love radiates
from my heart, my mind, my soul.
Forever...

Temptation

Power,
lust,
carnal desire...
handed to me on a silver platter
along with a blood red rose
in a crystal vase.
To accept or not?
The cost,
merely my soul...
my truth.
Is it worth it?
To get that which I most wish
at a cost too great to bear.
My heart's desire,
my soul's lament.

Anonymity

The anonymous ones chastise me,
taunt me,
laugh at me.
Feel free cowardly ones,
hiding behind the facelessness
of a million different identities.
Masks hide nothing
from one whose gift is truth.
I see you.
I will let you hide,
but know that I can see.
Lies unmasked.
It is my gift,
it is my truth.

Riddles Running Round My Mind

A friendly breeze has been blowing
for quite some time now.
Softly caressing all in it's path.
I can sense change approaching,
winds picking up speed.
That which resists shall be forced.
The door, the windows,
have been open for some time,
allowing air to flirt with the notion
of cooling and comforting that which lies beyond.
Soon, no more...
soon, that teasing breeze
will cause doors and windows
to be violently slammed shut.
Urgency.
Fear.
Sorrow.
The weary travelers hesitate.
They fear, they are wary,
weary,
unsure.
They have forgotten about their instincts,
they have forgotten how to trust.
Rest for the moment,
head pillowed in hands,
but time is of the essence
and the decision must soon be made.
For once the doors and windows are closed
it has not been foreseen when or if
they will be open again.
Time spins out of control,
in control.
Wild thing.
Gods laugh from the heavens,
enjoying their little games.
And our arrogance.

Odd

Strange...

the sense of worlds colliding,
the feeling that doors and windows are shifting,
closing.

a feeling of urgency, that one must hurry,
but slow down
like molasses oozing from a container
stored in the fridge.

knowing something from times past
that you have no business knowing,
nor any true inclination to want to know;
things just out of reach in your brain,
but try too hard and they flit away
like butterflies in the breeze.

reaching for the present,
living in the past or the future,
trying to stay grounded
while floating away with every breeze.

wanting, waiting, staying...
frustration bubbling up under pressure
and threatening to explode
in a starburst of emotion unlike any before.
Indescribable.

stagnant.
sitting forever, hands tied.
freedom unbounded
yet bound.

Irrational Fears

A car interior
Black night outside
Speed and curves
Highway median
Rushes to meet me

A lake or ocean
Deep open water
Powerful swimmer
Impenetrable depths
Grabbed from below

Dark, dank space
Walls closing in
Brush of something
Alone in the dark
Crawling on my skin

Playing with words...

Dynamic Wonder
Cosmic Excrement
Crying in Marvel
Unintelligible Psychobabble

St. Valentine

Commercialized love
makes me ill...
conveniently tied up
with expensive red bows.
Surface shallow lies.
Where is depth and truth?
Why love on a day because
you are told that you should?

Cursed

She falls to her knees on the pavement.
Skin against concrete,
scraping,
breaking.
She grabs handfuls of hair at her temples.
She screams, sobs racking her body,
tears running in rivers
down her face.
And the people walk on by.
They don't stop,
they don't stare.
She is invisible
as they walk on by.

She is cursed by birth,
forever to roam,
stroll,
meander.
Mourning a loss
she can never remember.
Flashes of love.
Glimpses of contentment.
Shifting curtains,
blowing in a teasing wind,
blurred,
unfocused.

Memory or vision?
Questions unending.
WHO ARE YOU? She screams.
SHOW YOUR FACE!
REVEAL YOURSELF!
I've had enough of games,
I'm tired of sorrow.
Pain is my nemesis,
tears even more so.
And yet she wanders,
forever she waits.
patient
standing

Memories haunting
teasing
taunting...

Tonight...

dance lightly though my heart is heavy
don't want to be alone with my thoughts tonight
feels like walking on the edge of the world
caught between worlds of moon and sky
spiders crawling on the back of my neck
shadows of moonlight in my eyes
slippery icicles up and down my spine
crystal sound in the calm still air

sharp hazy focus

Breakdown

Still...
I open my mouth
to scream
and no sound comes out.
No one hears.
I tear at my hair,
I stomp my feet,
I bellow and rail and moan.
No one hears.
Quiet tears trail
a course down my face
and my heart
gentle heart
shatters into a million shards.
No one hears.
No one sees.
Fingernails tear
at my face
my arms
my body,
bloody trails torn open.
No one sees.
I slump on cold stone
battered, broken,
alone.
No one sees.
Invisible...

Odd Dream

Precious sleep,
protected by the guardians of the night.
Mayhap to dream,
consciousness extending into the abyss.
I walk.
I observe.
There lies a stone,
black as alabaster,
dark against even the night.
The moon and sun rise as one.
Red and white collide.
There are three, yet there is one.
And yet, there are six, but two.
And no!
It is still one...complete, whole.
Mysteries of the night.
Understanding lost,
in the light of day.
Reaching for that just out of my grasp.
Sorrow...

I Ache

I ache...
To put my hand on your face,
to feel the live beat of your heart,
to touch the softness of your skin,
feel your breath on my neck.
I ache...
To know the taste of your skin,
the feel of your lips on mine,
to be enfolded in your arms,
surrounded by your warmth, your scent.
I ache...
To look into your eyes,
whatever may be mirrored there.
To touch your pain
and to show you mine.
I ache...
To be held, loved, cherished...
to hold, to love, to cherish...
I ache to see the man I know you can be.

Look Deeper

teetering atop a pillar
a flawed vessel
cracked and worn by time
at first glance 'tis merely aged
broken
look closer
see the surface cracks in the gloss
decoration hastily applied
layers added here and there
by various owners over time
spidery lines spreading in patterns
see the deeper cracks and chips
evidence of a life
proof that it was used
maybe abused
perhaps loved
both
some have been repaired
some remain bestowing character
personality
the vessel is still useful
whole
though discarded by most
priceless to some
who can see its value as treasure
yet it teeters atop a pillar
threatening to fall
threatening to break
even if it shatters
razor shards on stone
it may be lovingly reconstructed
soft hands
gentle heart
'twill be cracked and scarred
mostly whole
and always there is a chance
that it will be caught
and cushioned mid-fall

Masks

Little lies we tell ourselves,
running 'round my mind.
Little masks we always wear,
now hidden from myself.
Cracked at the seams,
spilling forth,
truth oozing free from deception.
Who sees true within this life
beneath the hurt and despair?

I was Wrong

Oh horror!
Blindness and idiocy!
I was wrong...

There is a cave within my mind,
a place I return to time and again.
It is dark and damp and cold.
It is a place of depression, of wallowing;
there I spend many inspired times.
Once I thought chains held me there,
in time I thought I was bound.
Felt shackled and caged, cramped.
Tortured by the hellfires, unable to breathe.

But the sun still shines high above,
birds still sing, and there is no need to weep.
I can leave anytime I wish...I have only to walk.
I can run and dance and twirl and jump
in the meadows of love and hope.
The chains with which I fixed myself
lie broken and useless within.
Joy springs from the eternal well.

I wrap myself in the warmth of love,
in the joy of passion and new friends.
Though I'll try to forget, I never will.
Memories tend to haunt me forever.
But I've learned and I've lost and I've been wrong.
I can admit it and I cherish it well.
Understanding may one day break through clouds;
forgiveness, though hard, already has.

Seeker

I know you are out there...
I can feel you sometimes.
I can hear your thoughts,
feel your laughter,
sense your presence.
I can feel your energy surrounding me
with love and adoration,
caressing my memories of us
from so long ago, so far away.
I turn around and you are gone.
A figment of my imagination.
I keep thinking I've found you,
to my embarrassment and chagrin.
I know you're looking for me too.
I'm impatient.
We've had this eternal bliss,
taken for granted,
now lost temporarily.
I miss you.
I await our reunion.

Retreat

Why must it hurt so much
cries my soul's lament.
Tattered wings drawn in tightly,
scant protection from the cold.
Internal fire grows dim,
life's essence slips away.
Affected too much by this --
why is something so small
so hard?
Tears won't fall anymore,
they wither and die,
frozen in my eyes.
My heart grows weak,
the beat grows dim,
mere ashes where once was fire.

Dizzy

Disbelief, sadness...
an apology in the making.
Confusion, sorrow...
where is strength now?
The aftermath is difficult,
perspective changes all...
cruel barbs flung
unthinking
cannot change it now
Words, words, words...
Will not take all the blame.
Lying on a cold hard floor,
voices in my head...
perspective is a cruel thing,
possibilities left and right.
I see, I hear, I feel, I speak
the filter sometimes absent...
Cold and dead
Alive and well
I write...I write...

Contemptable Weakness

rapacious fool
honey on your lips
lust and lies in your eyes
heat from your loins
desire in your touch
my weakness in mortal form
irresistible to my nature

A Plea

i stand in front of majestic waves
on the sandy shore of my future
my arms are spread open wide
the wind is in my hair
salt spray washes over my willing body
on a brightly moonlit night
oh peaceful stars embrace me
bring comfort to your child

Conflicted

She bends, she bows, so beautifully,
so graceful in her worship.
A willing slave to her own desires,
to the familiar always repeating.
impulsive
reactive
Her flexible nature a curse in itself
for she contorts to their every whim.
She chases freedom across fiery skies
yet craves still shackles and collar.
honest
loving
willing

Betrayed, an Awakening

Lately she's been blinded by hope
and seduced by potential in life.
Her trusting heart, though strong,
has been betrayed yet again tonight.
Whether intended platonic or more,
a lie is a lie is a lie.
Circular patterns repeating themselves,
but the ride merely stops this time.

The demon rises mighty dark,
stopped dead cold in his tracks.
He takes a breath and swallows hard,
and then wisely takes a step back.
The angel rises glorious light,
tonight clothed all in black.
Smiling vengeful and vindictive,
she slowly draws her sword.

At her core she is soft
of that there's no mistake.
'Tis oft forgot by and by tho
the steel 'round her heart.
Scared and naive, hardly she
tested by the trials of life.
Bitter strength forged and temper'd
then hardened in the fires.

He feels the breath of destiny
hotly on the nape of his neck.
But every time he turns to see,
she laughs and dances back.
Oh he who thinks himself so strong,
oh he who stands so proud.
Ascended fool, still so blind,
still stubborn, small, and young.

Today the Universe gave her a gift,
her gratitude knows no bounds.
She was shown that which she desires,
something coveted above all else.
Shining truth in all its bitterness,
honesty painful though true.
The huntress rests, licking her paws,
and dreams of a mate worth her time.

Anticipation

Fear bubbles up.
crippling
unwanted
unasked for
The well of emotion,
buried for so long.
it was assumed dry
Volcanic pressure builds,
threatens to explode.
Discipline.
Composure.
Longing...

The Dance

My eyes fill with tears,
threatening to spill into the ether.
Memories of what-might-be,
underneath a full crystal moon.
They dance, jabbing and sparring,
anticipating each other's next move.
Distracted by words, fascinated by thoughts,
each draws the other in a little more.
Defenses lowered, but still wary,
they face each other,
both battling the arch-enemies hope and fear.
Formidable opponents, breathtaking allies.
Oh my, words on a page...

The two stand before one another.
Naked, unmasked.
Vulnerable.
All the veils have been dropped,
all pretenses have been shed.
They have come out of curiosity,
out of longing, and in spite of their trepidation.
Tiptoed into a public room,
magnificent wild beasts, strong and proud,
both drawing stares from the assembled crowd.
Focussed. Wary.
Subconscious voices whispering secret intentions
the conscious mind refuses to acknowledge.
Pillars of flame, blinding in their intensity.

Dream

With intensity I have learned to glow.
Sweetly bitter, articulately poignant,
I've dug a grave and laid my past to rest.
Ears pricked, I scent the winds of change again.
Head turned into the light breeze,
I close my eyes and wait, patient beast.
Muscles coiled in ferocious intensity,
the restless huntress arises within.
At rest, but never at peace.
I've heard the call after an eternal wait;
in my minds' eye a vision rises.
With ferocity, intensity, passion,
I worship before an alter of darkness.
He is there in all his magnificence as always,
though I can never see who he is.
King, lover, master, lord.
My only equal.
Wielding rod and flail as only he knows how,
communing, demanding, understanding.
Knowing.
He lovingly caresses me as no other has before,
innately familiar, instinctively aware.
He deliciously, expertly, maps a journey of flesh and mind
that plunges deeply, thrusts to my very core.
The depths of emotion know no bounds.
Cry out in joy and ecstasy, pain and fear,
whilst tears freely flow;
opened fully in surrender and supplication,
whilst laughing with abandon,
yet writhing in agony.
Lust.
Lines blurred, edges fogged.
Terror.
Relief.
Catharsis.
Bodies and minds meld into one whole,
a temple worthy of worship,
a world existing only in our minds.

The Stranger

A hand stretches out across the ether,
tentative, cautious, daring.
Extended in friendship and curiosity,
gently prodding the barriers.
A vulnerable, fragile, empathetic core
balanced with pure unadulterated darkness;
surrounded with walls of stone and steel,
covered with curtains of silk.
If the stranger asks, he will receive
perhaps more than he ever bargained.
Whisper of silk as it drops to the ground,
hardness of stone underfoot.
The ring of metal and it's cold kiss on flesh
agony and ecstasy entwine.
Sweetly submitting to darkness and evil,
the beautiful, poetic surrender.
And yet, the light calls, the heat of day seduces;
again the battle of duality.
She who is dark reluctantly shifts, makes way;
she who is light floats onward.
Where is he, the stranger who dwells in the night,
the one who infiltrates our dreams?
He who is man both light and dark;
within one soul, two natures.

And Again

circular patterns repeating
repeating
round and round
until i'm dizzy and nauseous
let me off this ride
it's not fun anymore

Diabolical, poignant, articulate one!
Dear me, do I also sense duality in you?
So similar, so different...
Familiar strangers,
I've called that before.

go away leave me be
stop lying
stop torturing me
my soul aches
my heart laid bare
a familiar path i walk again

Soul twin, so similar in nature!
Am I the only one who sees?
My vision blinds me...
Deceptive truth,
Though perhaps it's not.

My Conflict

You've been gone for hours now.
Our time together was short and tumultuous as always.
I keep wondering if we were doomed from the start;
I keep wondering what, if anything, is between us.
I can still smell you on my sheets, on me.
I want to wrap myself in scent and memories, comfort.
I can still feel your presence near me, in me.
In the dark, in the early hours, everything seems so simple.
Soft words whispered intimately to each other.
Is it honesty or bullshit in the dark?
When the lights come back on, why do I forget the laughter;
The simple joy of being near you, joining with you.
Why does the paranoia and uncertainty set in?
Why do you have to feel so damn good?
Why does it have to feel so damn right yet so wrong?
You're right, somehow we do fit...
I was supposed to end this mess.
I was supposed to leave.
I can but I can't.
Problem is, I don't want to.

Searching in Agony

How do I escape this world of suffering and pain?
Suppose the question is whether I want to escape from it or to it...
I have reawakened that inside me best left dormant.
she wants to play she is hungry
I dream of a world where I have no conscience.
to frolic to play to destroy
Where life has no value.
pleasure
darkness
empty
i dream of pain once again
Oh dark one find me!
The battle wages,
the field my mind, my body.

Gratitude

My love is vast and eternal.
It is a gaping, raw-edged wound,
Fragile, strong, beautiful in its complexity.
It is safe harbor, refuge from the storm;
Infinite, comforting solace for those who seek it.
My forgiveness is boundless;
It is given freely always.
My gratitude is plentiful,
For the creativity and multitude gifts bestowed upon me.
I am, and forever will be blessed.
I smile at the benevolence of the universe.
I am awed and humbled by its excess.