From The Other Side…

I keep seeing these “Live in the Light”

“Let’s Get Back to the Garden of Eden”

“Love is the only thing there is”


This One-sided way of living in the world

Is Everywhere.

And I get it. I do.

Very few want to Face Our Stuff.

But here’s the thing about the Shadow:

Ignore It and It will choose you.

When will we understand that Life is Whole?

If we “Live only in the Light”, do we not Cast Out all the beauty in Darkness?:

The rich, fertile soil from which emerges the Commanding Rose?

The comforting depth of the shielded womb?

A pitch black midnight sky paired with the kind of breeze that empowers the Soul?

The emotional suffering which can lead us to Rebirth while alive?

And if we cast out All Those Things which Grow – which begin! – in Darkness…

Do we not also cast out Light?

“Getting back to the Garden of Eden” is a wish to go back to


The Apple of Knowledge never eaten, the “Paradise” of Unconsciousness.

Our desire for unconsciousness can be seen in all of our shadow behaviors –

Overeating, over-drinking, smoking, cheating…

The spiritual addiction of “Chasing the Light” –

By Refusing Shadow…we create more of it.

It seems to me we must live fully in All that is


Yes, revel in Life! In Joy! In Beauty!

But do not forget where these are born.

And as the heart may soar with Happiness, so must we also

Dig our hands through the dirt and pain and gunk of life

Drawing up the dark, moist clay

That makes Creation



I am tinged green by these Summertime, Wintertime

All-The-Time means

The Ad Man has of slamming us against the Shame Bricks

Slicing us through and through

Again and Again and Again

With their never-ending selling

Telling us what our own Souls are

Lest we start to think that ought to be

Our own self-discovery

Lest we start to think

Well, damn

Lest we start to Think.

We all wonder where the Rage comes from

As it jumps out of the shadows into a

Darkened, crowded theater

Spewing bullets into infants

Where there ain’t no caped crusader

Just blood and chaos

Followed by The Bachelor Host Chris Harrison

Expressing “Everyone here at ABCs deepest sympathies…”

“And NOW…”

— Announcer Voice! —

“Back to the Bachelor Pad!”

And messages from our euphemistic Sponsors

And Un-Reality Housewives masquerading as reality so much that it has become Reality

With their Fake Everything

Now Mentors to the 12 year old girls

Who come into my office Anorexic or smelling like vomit

Jabbering on starry-eyed about The Kardashians who in turn say,

“We’re just business women.”

In the business of selling an image of…?

“Normalcy. We’re normal.” Robot-Kim insists with her unmoving 20-something face

And inflated lipscheeksbuttpocketbook


When will we STOP?

Put our wallets away.

Go visit our neighbors?

Unglue ourselves from whatever electronic device is controlling us this instant?

Take back what we have



I want a fast car –

A Jaguar

And a werewolf-vampire boyfriend.

I want a close-up when I wake up

That shows perfect lush lips and long, curled lashes

As I slither out my California King in silk and lace lingerie

Slipping artfully pedicured feet into cashmere slippers.

I want to inhale imported Italian espresso as I pad to my pristine

kitchen —

The one my top-chef cooks in.

I want to look out my various-home-windows and gaze upon oceans,

And skyscrapers, and the Leaning Tower.

I want to wear buttery-leather skin-tight pants and stilettos that feel like flats

Because they’re made by Someone Fancy.

I want to be naked on one of those faux-fur rugs that feel better than the real thing –

All sprawled out in front of a glowing fire on a stormy night

Waiting to be seduced by my other-worldly boyfriend whose millionth kiss

Feels like it were the first kiss

Every Single Time.

I want the thick anticipation; the rich, shaky kind of energy to vibrate between us

Like Commitment was an Illicit Affair.

Instead, I sit in my 500 square foot apartment with the broken A/C

And wonder if I should make the effort to brush my teeth tonight.


Lovers Lane

Well you were just a memory:

A fallen leaf off a winter’s tree.

And so I left you – blatantly —

There on the cold, barren street.

I found no more You for me –

A once-green leaf now brown and weak;

A final teardrop etched down your cheek –

Brittle, dying – you chose to sleep!

Became the shriveled leaf in that cursed street.

If only I could have changed your mind,

Why, I would have made it so!

I ache to think how you gave in,

How your cracks began to show.

Then…Nothing More was left of you…

So Winter made it snow.

I could not mourn that haunted night

Nor those that passed by after.

I stayed frozen (to the snow’s delight) –

Feared the memory of your laughter.

But the snow did melt, ‘course the leaf was gone…

No trace You ever existed.

In its place the sweetest pain –

The pain I had resisted.

I welcomed Her now,

Wretched heaviness came —

From Winter’s numb to Springtime rain;

Perhaps with time, my love will fade…

My hope for an ever-after.

Now you are just a memory:

A fallen leaf off a winter’s tree

It was you who left me – blatantly —

There on the cold, barren street.