Unafraid

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Oh, hello

I don’t think we’ve met

Hand outstretched, steel in my grip

“I am Unafraid.”

Yes, indeed that is my name

Faced those demons, was once a slave

Now I’ve mastered Fear, my dear

So you will call me

Unafraid

Empowerment fills my chest

I stand with hands on She-ra hips

I will meet your gaze directly

Words ready at my lips

I’ll say what must be said

I’ll fight until the death

For the Truth that is alive in me

is worth my final breath

Why, what New Dark Thing is this?

Some new lesson, some old trick?

Go ahead and try me, friend —

I got a giant fucking dick

When you’ve been to hell and back again

When hell’s been in your bed

The slave becomes the master

When she takes the master’s head

And I’ve got his on a stick

There’s a new rule in town now

This Queen don’t take your shit

I’ve battled All The Vilest Things

And learned to never quit

The throne is mine til dying day

So let me introduce you, hey?

‘Cause I don’t think we’ve met

I am

Unafraid.

(written in 2018)

Calling Elijah

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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

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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

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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

 

If I Didn’t Have You

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If I didn’t have you

I wouldn’t have me

what a journey it has been

(what a journey it will be)

unfolding all Life’s deepest mysteries

I see them stroll on down the street

headphones on, obliviously

missing all the subtleties

there are those who can’t recall

a single dream, not one at all

and then there is me and there is you

we’ve burned in hell and soared in blue

wrestled demons and held God’s hands

we’ve Seen Things the others can’t

deeper layers, lifted veils

I do my yoga, you hike your trails

what we share can’t be explained

what was lost, now reclaimed

an indestructible house exists

one where all the Whole Souls live

I revel in my gratitude

I revel because I’m free

Thank you will never be enough

If I didn’t have you

I wouldn’t have

Me.

Right Beside You

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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

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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

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Body Knows

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So many times I don’t know it’s there

Sadness

trapped in my body

Despair

a forward fold and then

the tears

Walking up his driveway

I knock on his door

He gives me an adjustment

and I cry some more

He made me still, then a sudden crack

and woah

Didn’t know it was stuck like that

The body holds what the mind won’t

The mind’s got tricks

The body don’t

The mind escapes

But the body knows

The Body Knows

 

 

What You Left Behind

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Something is missing

That numb feeling in my center

this vibrating out that it does

glazing over my eyes

I know somewhere I must have some feelings

anger and sadness

best guess

but I can’t connect

depressed

are you as tired of that word as I am

fuck I’m so tired of it

I keep going

because I’ve learned by now that that’s what I do

I guess that’s pretty cool

but if I’d given up

I wouldn’t judge myself

or you

I don’t want to live here

but wherever you are

you are

and what a fucking riddle it all is

isn’t it

sometimes I just get sick of playing

so I give up for a little while

I let it take over

the gray cloud

the white noise

sometimes I don’t let it, it just comes

rapist

I put ear plugs in today

inside

because I didn’t want to hear that fucking blower blow one more time

jesus Christ

I don’t feel like I can ever ACT or DECIDE

and when I do

just momentary blips on the radar of life

I want things

and I know things don’t really give you anything

is it all just a head spinning trap

how do we live without answers

how do we fulfill our purpose

the one in the soul that keeps pushing us forward

and yet

that other thing that stops us

every god damn fucking time

your skin will wrinkle if you don’t die

and your eye color will fade and all that will be left

will be what you left behind

 

For Butterfly

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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