Calling Elijah

Why does nothing interest me

another book shut 

a third of the way in

another episode I can’t finish

a political debate leaving the (supposedly)

undecided

in the exact same place

I am bored of you, world

I need more of you, world

Am I really speaking to myself in this?

I have been humbled and blessed to pass through 

a few doorways of gods

and felt the heartbeat of Everything

all at once and sober

There was I and no I at the same time

Divine

I have been given so much

yet have so far to go

The tools at my feet and within in me aren’t working

I should be feeling something

An urgency

Anything

Inspire me, world!

Demanding

Dear God

inspire me

Begging

I am ashamed to ask

How can the Ocean itself not be enough

Is there something missing

or only that very thought which betrays me

or is the something that is missing

in me?

They say this cliche

Wherever you go, there you are

and I agree

But then

To whom do I speak

What mystery do I seek

how dare nothing interest me

White Noise

Here you are again — 

that familiar hum

that low-pitched vibration

as if White Noise fucked Agony

and made a Depression baby

It would be a silent-shrieking Thing 

that no one could soothe

and then…

A far away voice —

Demeter, maybe?

— begs me to return

to come back up

but I can’t find the way

out of this maze

There are ladders everywhere 

ladders that  go nowhere

It’s a special type of hell this time

One where

I can hear the voices from the outside

and know there is Life

somewhere

But not in this place

Only this heaviness

Only this heartbreak

Only this desperation 

begging humankind to wake

But down here the inner Beggar just decays

Too little, too late

Too little.

Too late.

and quite frankly

I am left with nothing left

to say

 

STOP

It is a dark call to stillness

A dropping down and in

A forced and needed 

Stop.

What will you create in your life?

Busyness is just another addiction

Rushing us past our feelings, our selves, our lives

Stop.

Who are you really and how do you wish to be?

Be that

This is the night sea journey

This is the time you were waiting for to begin

This is how you get acquainted

You stop.

Which voice will you listen to?

I hope it is not the voice of your mother or father or spouse or friend

I especially hope it is not the voice of the collective

Now is when you break free

Now is when you listen and find 

the Worthy Inner Voice

And empower it

Stop.

So that when you once again go forward

You will bring the gifts only you can bring

And that will be your salvation

And ours

 

Right Beside You

All we are given is ourselves

To change and mold

as if that were an easy thing

still

we are given our selves

what a profoundly beautiful thing

To be given and yet

we so often walk through the world abused and mistreated

by the very selves we were given

Step one is as important as step 701

And step 701 is as important as the very last step

in every journey

there is a process

in every process there is A Thing that wishes to cut the process off

to stop it

to revert it back to whatever it was before

or kill it completely

It is only Unconsciousness, doing what It does

Pulling us towards a type of death

while It’s opposite –

Consciousness,

Intent —

pulls us toward life

It is our job to fight the good fight

to push forward

to carry on

to cry, “Tally ho!”

and march

The real Death comes soon enough

Though the weight of The Old wishes to carry you back into the ocean’s depths

you must find your focus and your feet

steady now

Left, left,

left, right, left!

And if you glance either way

I am right beside you

 

Sad Banana Man

He was slumped over against the window of the plane

a sort of sad banana

I sat down in the middle between him and this other man

front row

more leg room

Oh-kay, make that a smoke and whiskey-smelling sad banana

Both men refused to acknowledge me and hogged the armrests

I wanted to scream at the top of my lungs

YOU FUCKING IGNORANT ENTITLED WHITE MEN

But I didn’t

I’m white, too, but their whiteness bothered me

Clearly, I have some unresolved rage

But fuck

Seriously?

You each have the outer arm rests

And I’m a pretty slender person

and, hello, a person

Wake up, motherfuckers!

Anyway

Sad whisky banana-man starts to rustle

Now that he’s erect

I notice he’s good-looking in an older rock star kind of way

He has big hands

Long, thick fingers with lots of silver rings on them

He’s real tan

He pushes his sunglasses up and glances over at me for the first time

His eyes on me in that annoyingly intense way when it’s someone you aren’t attracted to

But I couldn’t quite say that, which surprised me

Drink? the stewardess asks

He orders

“Whiskey and coke”

I feel a spark of satisfaction

Like I’m some kind of goddamn detective for knowing what whiskey smells like

I get a water

because I’m better than him

He’s fumbling for a fucking coupon for the longest time

He’s ruining my fantasy

He can’t find it so the nondescript man next to me offers his

They have a little bro moment

The drink arrives and he sips some

“What ya reading?” he asks me

Those fucking eyes

“Junk,” I say.

I’m not interested.

And yet a part of me wants to fuck him because he’s dirty and nasty and inappropriate and men can’t be that way anymore and mostly it’s good

But sometimes it sucks

So he gets a pass

He drinks a little more and nudges me with his shoulder

Smiles

The fucking nerve

He’s gotta be some old rock star with that nerve and those dimples

I look at him directly

“Yes?” I say, sort of amused

I send his energy back to him

That same heated gaze

At this, he looks away

“Pussy” is my immediate thought

Definitely not a rock star

He finishes his drink and invades my space one more time

I let him

I know he’s all bark and no bite

I walk to get my luggage

A tiny bit disappointed

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

For Butterfly

there’s all these broken pieces

on the floor between me and you

evidence of our friendship that Life just shattered through

I can see you on the other side tending to your wounds

You can see me over here, I’m tending to mine, too

I guess breaks like this don’t hurt this much

unless the love is Huge

and time has passed and we’ve both patched

those places where we bled

As best we could and we moved on ‘cause that’s what people do

Still, I kept you in my heart

You were rooting for me, too

Now here we are

This same old place and yet somehow, it is new

Those broken pieces waiting there…

But you showed up.

And I showed up.

And both of us

brought glue

 

Muse

She is Here

This incredible, delectable feeling rushing through my fingertips

gushing water though the dam

bursting, breathing

Aliveness

Excitement

I can feel the planets turn and the stars shoot light across the sky

I can feel your breath in my breath

and your life in mine

Oh sweet Muse

how I have missed your incredible juice

Will you never again leave me

Stay!

Stay

But I will not cling or grasp

Only ride this tidal wave of joyous pulsating Everything

and hope and pray it moves through me clearly

and reaches you

and you feel it

and you feel me and you take us in

as I take in you

As I wish for you

-Now-

All Good and Meaningful Things

All Blessed Truth and Sacred Healing

may any pain you ever feel only be leading you to

the very growth you seek

May any suffering merely push out any last crumb

of self-denial and hate and make a space —

A great, big, beautiful space

For the grand entrance of your Muse,

of your Light

of the Very Truth

of

You

The Still Point

I have come now

to the Still Point

that place the ego does not like

for it requires waiting, resting, being

Digesting

Can’t we just rush forward

Get to the next thing

Do just a little more

I say firmly,

No my Hercules

We must stop

It is time to integrate

I know how you hate it

How you wish to push further

Conquer the next task

Kill the next dragon

Or make it our pet

And we will get there in time

I promise

For now the best way you can help me

is to let us Be

Breathe

Feel

Would you join me?

I’ll make us that peach and clove tea you like

Sip it slowly and take in the gray clouds and the rich, Fall feeling that goes with them

There, now

Not as bad as you thought, huh

This Waiting.

The Mask

Chosen so carefully

Each one crafted, hand-made from our own unique pain

Each one brilliant in its effectiveness towards keeping others

Out

A wearable No Trespassing sign

Expressed in so many ways

And yet we all wish to break free

That Part we’ve kept inside – the Real Us

Asking to be Seen

The outer defending against it endlessly

But there comes a time

Right before it’s too late

(like in that Twlight Zone episode where the masks become the face)

When we realize the mask that kept us safe

Is now the cause of our deterioration

But sweet elation!

You can still get free

You can step out of the box you put yourself in

Take the mask off and place it in the box instead

So the Real You

The one we secretly all beg for

Can finally Live

 

 

47 Seconds

I walk in

just to see his smile

for 47 seconds

It’s the kind you hear about —

the kind that Lights Up everything

I wonder if he is always the sun inside himself?

like he is the sun for me

Good God I’m grateful he exists

in a world Like This

I don’t even need a drink today

I just need those 47 seconds