Sunday, September 23, 2007

My Soul

The flowers have lost their scent
in the lack of sleep and dreams
looking for colors that have melted
into the margins of everyday life
seeking solitude in sound
and rhythm in tea leaves
that have been left to dry in
the center of my soul
that is cracked and seeping
out through my tears

September 22, 2007


Am I a negative stereotype?
A contradiction of terms wrapped in
an enigma of images portraying
falsehoods passed off as realities
telling myself I am a seeker of
truth when really I am a giver of
sugar-coated lies that even
I've begun to believe with the best
of intentions.....

September 4, 2007
The wellspring of life pierces through the
atmospheric pressure of a mind clouded
with intricate networkings and weavings
of jazz beats that are sharp and flat
and not at all forgiving in their
speed as the rain pours in through the
small crack that has formed and begins drowning out the
beat and creating a new rhythm to swing
and sway to and be free to
as it sings of tomorrow and what forever might be...

August 28, 2007

something tells me it's you...

her tea leaves
told a story of a life too long for
one so young
traced by the lines on her face,
the gray hairs amid the brown,
and the scars she possessed
that told stories of triumph and failure
but always of surviving,
and always of living,
and always of loving
remembering each fondly and not
regretting but merely letting it add
to the garden she's grown....

August 31, 2007
For the first time last night
-----I laughed
My sides split open and all the
indescribable moments of life
came puring out and took shape;
And I breathed them in and out
desiring for them to never end,
Longing to discover each moment again and
attach it to my identity
---that in is need of definition
by something that isn't negative
but is beautiful...

September 22, 2007
Gently dipping reeds follow their own rhythm
as the wind blows them in and out of view
Of the dark clouded sky attempting to
find the sun in the midst of a
naked morning
filled with promises of rain and rebirth

August 28, 2007
The sprial down insanity of
the wind storm shook my foundations---
-----as the moon set
on a century of abuse, contemplating
time as if it were a teardrop in
history not willing to face what has
come and what is going to be seemingly caught
in an instant of concave maddness
and pear shaped dreams that
I am allergic to longing to use these feathers
to fly away to a reality that doesn't make my eyes water
with fear and saddness---
----where I can dream and wake up to find it
has been true all along....

August 20, 2007

For You

Speaking backwards and forwards into my life

Giving my boxes doors fro me to get out of

Making me realize that I haven’t laughed in a very long time

And that I never really knew what laughter was

Letting the abandonment of joy and friendship wash over me not expecting anything

But hoping for your heart

Not wanting to ruin what there is

So hiding what I want there to be…

August 20, 2007

A Lifetime

in compromised moments when decisions stop existing and the only thing audible is the sound of breathing—
the red hot heat of energy that emerges is embraced without question through the arms of a stranger that is allowed in—
allowed into intimate moments that become distorted and tarnished,
filled with shame and anger but the feeling get pushed so easily aside as the embrace becomes stronger and as the nights grow longer—
until she can’t resist any more and surrenders to the desires of a moment
in exchange for a lifetime of questions,
a lifetime of trying to explain,
a lifetime of hoping for love,
a lifetime of trying to accept forgiveness and grace.

August 9, 2007

A Reflection

My heart almost cracked with the effort of trying to love you,
As the deep magnitude of the morning light swallowed me up—
Not belonging to a time like this feeling outside and painful,
Living by a hope that is impenetrable and daunting.
Caught in the shadows of the noon day sun attempting to gain footing when there is no where to stand,
Learning how to live from the blades of grass and the wind through the tree tops
Stepping out of myself to maybe think of something else for a moment.
With a view of everything as heaven and heaven as everything,
with no desire to tell the difference,
As a longing to be imprisoned by happiness brings a joy indescribable by any means…

August 8, 2007

Lord let me love,

love with a fury and with clanging,

Let the sun rise on the dawn of what it means to be beloved

To be etched with an image of truth,

that collapses the lies of my life.

Lie that I have believed about who I’ve been created to be—

For this is not a time of timidity but of action

before I lose who I am…

August 5, 2007

The summer sunset edges the rims of endless clouds in pink and orange.
as the scent of fresh cut grass is carried on the wind of a new evening,
The first stars appear in the midst of broken memories trying to be pieced together through a life of summers—

Summers of changes—of beginnings and ends—of broken hearts that were required for greater love—
Summers of giving everything up for only God knew what,
Not realizing that it is only because of the summers that life was ever possible,
Because each summer brought freedom in the process of madness and memory.

August 3, 2007

In the still small moment of quiet music,
As the aspens quake out their song in the wind,
The cherry blossom scars are barely recognizable as my heart heals.
Pushed on by a melody barely audible even by my own soul,
I collapse into the arms of this moment allowing ever part of me to resonate with what it means,
As my hands gently reach for what is next without losing what is now.

July 27, 2007


Freedom is a dirty word filled with sharp edges and dark spaces;

Free is a four letter word that leaves a sour taste in my mouth.
I throw these words around as if they were a child's play thing,
Not taking responsibility for what they mean as they role so easily off my tongue.
I distort their image and I make them into something unappealing because my freedom is something it was never intended to be--
Because my freedom depends on me and what I can do.

My freedom, is dependent on the broken heart of a child--
My freedom, is dependent on the shattered dreams of a teenager--
My freedom, is dependent on lost time and bad choices.

So it's no wonder the freedom I give is uninviting and ugly because this freedom isn't free at all.
And, at the end of the day when I have lived in my so-called "freedom" I realize I want a freedom that is technicolor and sweet--
but how could I possibly find that?

July 4, 2007

Monday, September 17, 2007

let go

She stands alone on her own two feet
In an attempt to find a life,
A life that this world cannot offer her.

Like a song she knows the words to but has never heard before,
She is so close to the melody,
If only she would hum along and allow herself to sing.

The fear that grips her soul is merely a block,
To everything that is within reach,
If only she would allow herself to let go.

March 20, 2007

...what we've been missing...

Falling into pits of finely sharpened rose petals
In the seduction of twilight
Looking for the stars that aren’t there yet
Praying that they’ll appear
So that this treacherous path will be made clear
In these perilous moments that are not quite sun and not quite moon
Is a life caught between time and emotion trying to find a way out

February 29, 2007