Fire

Deceiving, this sweet golden light

this warm, rich sun

this orange sky

your face aglow like candlelight

we drink it up

we soak it in

the trees that burn

reveal it’s sin

One side ash

The other side gold

For no thing exists

That is not whole

Perfect sunsets drenching skies

Something’s born

Something dies

 

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Blasphemy nowadays is non-response

The urgent, silent demand:

(You will) fill up this gaping wound of being so unseen for so long

E’rybody telepathic  today –

and we all listen and obey

’cause we have

the exact same demand

and you can shake your head, like

no way

But I got your number, babe

Checking and re-checking for Likes and Views

Measuring worth and life by The Interest of Others

desperate pleading

acknowledge me

acknowledge me

’cause you know e’rybody wanna be seen

yeah

E’rrrrybody wanna be a famous bitch

and hate a famous bitch

at the same time

Unpopular

I don’t believe in an all-good God

Or an all-good Anything, really

Have you not also learned that Life is Whole?

Life is Both

And you can spin it any way you like

if it helps you sleep at night

like

underneath Everything is Love

and

God is Love

But No

I say

God is Both

And The Both is The One

Good and Evil exist simultaneously

Two sides of the same coin

It’s not just either-or

And you don’t get to toss aside The One You Don’t Prefer

Have you not looked in the mirror

and seen the God and the Devil in you?

Or your brother, then?

If not

you’re not looking close enough

And yeah, I’ve read the Bible

And yeah, I’ve read Deepak, too

And there is so much great stuff in all of the above

But if God is in everything

Then God is in everything

You don’t get to pick and choose

And this will not be The Popular Thing to Say

But fuck popularity

I was terrible at it anyway

So go ahead and keeping insisting upon all your regurgitated views

Delusion

is

so

much

easier

than

Truth

 

hey you

Something gnaws at me

a guitar pick on the same string

just plucking, plucking

a one track mind

get away from here

Sounds like a pretty good idea, actually

they say water on rock wears the rock away

but even water needs a break

I feel myself fading

amidst All This jaded-heaviness

verbal-vomit-readiness

hiding-behind-the-internet

Cowards and Fakes

it’s getting hard to take

hey

you

wanna run away with me?

let’s get lost in the wilderness

just for a little bit

a brief escape

out where guitar picks play at millions of strings

where there’s no one-track anything

and cool streams shock our bare feet

we can sit side by side

I’ll read you my poems and you’ll sing me your songs

And when it gets cold at night

Maybe you’ll slide your fingers in between mine

And I won’t mind

No

I won’t mind

 

Draft Pick

Yesterday, an anxious fit threw me

silk sheets wrapped their burgundy curls around my limbs

pinning me down in my own twisted, sweaty haste

to get away

What a sad-funny thing to think we can run from ourselves

How many times do you wage war on the inside?

Some lose days

Some lose years

I’ve lost both before but in my bones I know

the worthiest of battles

are on this battlefield of Soul

So when I lose

I wake again and start anew

Today, I threw an anxious fit away

each step I took with wisened foot

Lessons learned

I feel my worth

Wars are won on how we greet our losses

If we were picking teams

Would you choose yourself?

‘Cause I’d sure as hell choose

me

 

 

 

 

Black Tar Tears

 

black tar tears

muddy evidence

of failed heroic attempts

veins straining against forehead skin

enraged, entrapped by the war within

black tar tears

thick, sticky evidence of rolling that fucking stone up the mountain

again and again

watching it just roll back down

just roll back down

the other voice is winning today

the one that say

what

is

the

fucking

point

you stupid

fucking

bitch

and I don’t have it in me to correct him

this murderous rage stabs at me

I see how the terrorist lives within

helpless and violent

do I matter at all

to anyone

am I destined to be alone

forever

no one hears me

look —

even the tar

is gone

Laundry Day

you gotta have yourself a laundry day

and sort your shit

 

there’s a difference between giving something a voice

and giving it sole power

allowing a say and allowing a take-over

the delicate dance between having a feeling 
or letting it capture you and take you away

 

this ain’t Calgon

and trust me, that shit don’t work anyway

 

seems to me it all falls to one concept

Discerning

it’s such a pesky little mutha

How can it be both/and all the time?

but you know it is

there are no absolutes

there is only finding what works for you

 

you gotta have yourself a laundry day

and

Sort.

Your.

Shit.

 

Or be like everyone else sheeping through this life

with the “it’s too hards” or the endless escapism in endless forms

 

Or become the storm

and say to yourself

“fuck this mediocre shit”

 

You came here to do something

no need to get overwhelmed

just make a choice

And figure it out

 

p.s.

that top goes with the darks

Winged Victory of Samothrace

When I saw her, and before I knew her name,

I had one thought —

Freedom

She, with her wings spread wide

An angel welcoming the sun as a lover

Heart so open, so strong

I imagine her head thrown back,

her body filled with a light

no darkness

could ever

touch

Work

I see you eating your pastry

Drinking your wine

Laughing, smoking

On kitschy, woven chairs

facing the street

so you may people-watch

or be watched

people turn into atmosphere

I peer in to your vacation-looking lives and think

I’d like to be like you

And laugh and drink and espresso and croissant

and repeat

but inside I know I am not like you

I did not come here for that

I wish I did

(well, maybe)

Oh I wish I did!

(hey, lady — maybe)

But I…

Well

I have work to do