Life

icaniwill

 

I will write in spite of that black cement wall son-of-a-bitch writer’s block

I will dream, let them come — the demonic, the erotic, the night sea journeys, the sirens, the earthquakes and alchemical pools of lakes and hot tubs, and the way I can always fly up and across the sky — get there quicker than the rest of them

I will paint – my modest, laughable pieces of art

Art that does not come easy like that one girl you can’t forget for precisely that reason

But art that comes, nonetheless, because it means something to me

Some young, simple, eager expression of my soul

I will do – because my soul Calls to me to do – to create to develop and yes,

I will be

Still, with eyes closed feeling the vibrations of the Universe shiver through my body as it circles gently and only ever so slightly, round and round and round…

I will dance, not like nobody’s watching because, hello! people are fucking watching – but I will do it anyway because that is my brave

I will kiss. I will kiss with passion and abandon and suck in that lower lip just a little bit if he lets me, and then soft, stop. Barely touching my lips to his, a whisper of a kiss…to see what he will…

I will breathe from the bottom of my spine up past the crown of my head; I will let the life force ride on my breath expanding in me like oceans of air cleansing my broken, cynical soul

I will shop. Online shop.

Because fuck, once in a while, I do like to shop online. And “mall energy” is the worst.

I will ride the waves of my vast emotions as if they were made from wings of gold I could fly upon; I will honor the highs and lows as equals because — ego aside – they are

I will love

I will love with these warm feelings that wrap their joy and compassion around me and then move outward so that they may reach you. I hope they reach you.

I will accept life as She is. There can be no other way. None of us are spared getting fucked over by Verizon at some point in life. Or AT&T. Or…eh, just pick a company.

And of course, so very, very much worse. But I will be unspared with you.

I will Open…so that I may let a love like mine find me

I will explore, and wonder, and try, and feel, and hope, and cry, and listen, sacredly

And in all of this…

I will live.

 

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One Day

One day

I will write poems about butterflies

Even though it’s been done a million times

I’ll make it feel like the very first time

I’ll write about vibrant colors like indigo and mandarin

Wax on about hot chocolate with cinnamon

I will talk about bodies of water using

Delicious descriptions

(I’ll never call a brook babbling)

I will write like I’m high on Life’s Vibes

And be able to turn mundane things

Into fields of wild ecstacy, and purple poppies

And crème brulee

And you will never again call those things mundane

One day

I will glide through each moment in flowing step

Harmonizing my feet with the energy underneath

I will know I’m on my way to the grave

And it will just be another glorious day

Another birth but no longer a slave

Oh yes I will be completely free

And I will write of it in Hope’s great name

And that you might float along with me

Flowing down the brook that’s babbling…

Oops

Well….

One day…

No More Easy

There is no more Easy

I have gone way, way…

Way too far in

I have Seen Things most won’t ever See

I have taken flight on hellish wings

Clasped hands with dead visionaries

While friends from this 2013

Somehow don’t seem as real to me

Life will never again be “Fun”

In the way the Unencumbered use the term

Fun like carefree

Fun like light

No, The Work comes with it a weighted plight

The kind that can’t just breeze by anymore

The kind that’s tethered to Something More

A bigger fate, behind the scenes

We carry the cross

For Others’ dreams

And know, as we tread the weathered road

There is no more

Easy.

What Cannot Be Understood

Who are we to take the seat of Judge

When the Universe itself does not?

Who are we to cut down our own highest ideals

By ripping apart the beliefs and values of our fellows?

The Circle of Life does not start at birth and end at death.

For a circle, if you will recall, has no points at all.

Our limited human view makes us pick a moment on the wheel:

We call it Birth;

We call it Beginning.

We break down the unimaginable, the unknowable,

The Mysterious –

Into small, digestible, human fragments of False Wisdom

That claim we can know something which we –

Quite simply,

Cannot.

Consciousness gives us only so much.

Science, Psychology –

Gifts that offer brief flashes of Knowing.

And for these we are grateful.

But we must not mistake gratitude as some Fixed Truth.

All That Is,

Outside of those knowable points –

Is The Unconscious.

It is The Great Awe that is

Every.

Other.

Unseen.

Point.

And so, we may seek to Know

But may we remember, on our journey,

To lay down our judgements of ourselves.

This first.

And in ending that internal war,

We will find peace with our neighbor –

And Freedom instead of Fear

In the beautiful, dark Arms of

What Cannot Be

Understood.