Fluidic motivation.
Lies wrapped in lies
and more lies.
Deliciously oozing deception,
tempting tasty treats.
Perspective dances lightly
tiptoes across fields of truth
twirling out of reach
ever changing and evolving.

Out

I lay exhausted,
in a bed I've made,
praying to a god
that doesn't exist,
for sleep to claim me.
To escape
to a world
of waking dreams
where reality is not
and confusion reigns.
Where there is no goal
and no quest
and no outcome.
The abyss
where the mind floats
freely in a hazy
drifting weightlessness.
Where anything is nothing
and impossible is possible.
The only true freedom.

Scars

Touched an old scar today.
Remembered when it used to bleed.
When I used to pick the scab,
hurting to try and feel.

Do you even know?
Would you even care?

You abandoned me to die.
Strangers in my bed.
Crying myself to sleep,
hurting to try and feel.

Do you even know?
Would you even care?

Woke up alone one day.
Body broken and bruised.
A shattered mind and soul,
hurting to try and feel.

Do you even know?
Would you even care?

Woke up scared one day.
Terrified I was losing myself.
Burned your memory away,
hurting to try and forget.

Do you even know?
Would you even care?

The scars are all that remain.
Long healed and silvery white.
Sometimes I still touch them,
sometimes they still hurt.

Insomnia

I sleep dreamless.
And yet when I wake I dream.
Unreal images,
reality merged
with fantastical illusion,
faded at the edges,
creased and worn.
I struggle to breathe,
drowning in uncertainty.
A world turned inside out.
Through closed eyes
I find peace in oblivion,
in dreamless sleep,
where the world makes sense.

Love's End

What happens when love dies?
Does it go slowly and softly,
a whisper of silk sliding off the end of a bed?
Does it go violently and with passion,
a hurricane of tempestuous proportions
slamming against a brick wall?
Does it drift away in the night,
a thief stealing off in the shadows?
Whether loud or quiet, passionate or passionless,
it leaves a vacant, empty void when love dies.
A patch of painful barren ground.
But where there is death,
there is hope
that one day life and love will spring anew.

Cherry Blossoms

A cloud of pink petals
blows around my head
dancing delicately in the breeze.
Lightly
they drift like pink snowbanks.
Releasing, as I crush them
unintentionally,
with clumsy feet,
the sweet fragrance of spring.

Hush

In the stillness,
in the silence,
there is peace,
there is truth.

If you listen,
if you hear,
there is peace,
there is truth.

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.