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Monthly Archives: January 2015
Love=More
I have never felt
more
unravelled,
more
exposed,
more
vulnerable,
more
weak
more
pain
more
pleasure
more
passion
more
strength
more
open
more
joy
more
you
more
me
Can this be love?
I Cast
I cast my spirit to the skies
like new constellations radiant birth
To seek the Love it longs to find
and share its warmth, its ache, its hope.
I cast my heart into the sea
And saw it ride a crested wave
disappear, midst foam and spray
Now patiently wait its return.
I cast my soul onto the earth
Where nature’s fruit with hope burst forth
And claim the life for which its come
To sow upon this broken ground
Spirit, heart, soul – Trinity
Hallowed, Sacred, Purity,
Forged for all eternities
I am you and you are me
Sleep
Sleep
The body’s healing salve
like mother’s kisses
washing the hurts away,
To awaken
refreshed, renewed,
whole…
Sleep
One Step
One
Creak
Floorboards divulge its secrets
Two
Pause
Holding breath like childhood games long past
Three
Shift
To lean for soul’s support
Four
Cold sweat
Trickles past long forgotten places
Five
Bloodshot eyes explode
Across familiar spaces
Six
Engorged veins
push through crackled skin
Seven
Release breath
Softly wheezing pistons
Eight
Pursed lips
Tremble like rustling leaves
Nine
Gnarled canes
Slide in withered hands
Ten
Boom box beats
Rattles concave chest
Eleven
Old bones
Tip hat to borrowed ttime
Twelve
Repeat
A Medium Tirade
I am tired of the news and its blues and its views
Tired of the veiled morality and feigned reality
The fears that quash our tears of hope
ripping into our souls ripe for the taking.
Masked subliminal messages massaging full frontal exposure
recoiling from eroticized fantasy, bitch-slapped into existence.
Where is the edification of education, informing information
creative manifestations and healing proclamations
once timeless, evoking breathlessness, joy, peace, love…dude?
Synapses firing, fleeing, quivering,
we bind ourselves
becoming data-enslaved slaves of darwinian threats.
Ricocheted systemic blames erasing legitmate need
masked in the political thesaurus ring.
Echoes of character limits that facelessly bully and
prostitute solicitations.
Rise up to the violence spewed by hate-laced faith-less isms
Escape in the ecstasy of your drug fueled destiny
Take off your disguise and reveal yourself once more.
Amidst this dying age,.
an inspirational breath of life
if you please?
For Every Today
The Glance
I used to see them there
waiting in the wings
And felt their energies radiate deep hues
of royal indigos transcending into violets.
I linger with the hope of something
more than
my illusions.
I wonder if they notice me
not watching them
being watched?
Unveiled impassiveness
Or is it indifference?
Awkwardly,
they lift their eyes towards mine
…And
glance away.
Bag Lady lyrics circa 1982-1986
And she’s sifting through the garbage
Clutching papers in her hand
She hears salvation army
Preaching ’bout that promised land
Walking down the city
See a big bright light
Cops are sitting pretty in the night
Baby’s going hungry
She’s growing up too old
Can’t get any money
So she’s sold.
And she’s sifting through the garbage
Clutching papers in her hand
She hears salvation army
Preaching ’bout that promised land
In her city dwellings
Winos at her feet
Fairy tales of childhood, lies, defeat
Living in this jungle
It’s brought her to her knees
It’s only at the night time
that she breathes.
And she’s sifting through the garbage
Clutching papers in her hand
She hears salvation army
Preaching ’bout that promised land
Sirens loudly blaring
Cannot hear a sound
Blistered body frozen to the ground.
Stapled eyes wide open
Tear stains crease her face
Sees sights unseen, unspoken
Where’s the grace?
And she’s sifting through the garbage
Clutching papers in her hand
She hears salvation army
Preaching ’bout that promised land
Scattered pictures flicker
In cold outstretched scarred arms
Glimpse eyes that held such promise
Beauty’s charm
There’s no one to remember?
Who’s there to kneel and cry?
Just a “crazy” old bag lady
Alone to die.
And she’s sifting through the garbage
Clutching papers in her hand
She hears salvation army
Preaching ’bout that promised land.
The Forever Star
The Forever Star
Once upon a time, there was a little star in the sky. Each day he would sleep in the warmth of the sun, dance to the music of the birds, and swing to the breeze in the trees. But his most favourite thing in the whole wide world, was to listen to the hearts of people.
Now this star was very young but also very wise and he had heard that if a star was the first one in the night sky, the star could grant one wish of a person whose heart was filled with love. One day the star heard the heart cry of a loving couple who wanted to be parents. In fact they had already made one wish with another star, and though the star loved them very much, it couldn’t stay with them for very long. The parents would always love and miss their first star but hoped they would be granted a wish of a forever star.
One night when the moon was rising high into the night sky, the little star looked around saw that he was the only star twinkling in the sky. So he listened and waited, waited and listened and heard the heart-wish of the parents to have a forever star. The little star wanted with all his heart to be their forever star and granted them their wish.
The little star hugged the Moon and waved goodbye to the other stars and started on his journey to find those parents. On his way, he met other people who also loved him very much. But in his heart he always remembered the wish he had granted and knew that this would be where he was needed and would be loved the most. And so again he listened and waited, waited and listened and the parents waited and listened, listened and waited until they finally found each other. On the day they met, everyone cried with joy to see each other. The little star was so very excited and very happy for he knew that he would be loved forever.
When stars leave the heavens and find their forever family, their star covering melts away and reveals either a little boy or little girl. This little star became a beautiful, brilliant, gifted little boy called Stirling, which means “little star”. Stirling still likes to sleep in the warmth of the sun, dance to the music of the birds, and swing to the breeze in the trees. Ever night he waves to his friends the moon and the stars and loves to be hugged and kissed and tickled too. But his most favourite thing in the whole wide world is, when he is wrapped lovingly in his parents arms where he can listen to their happy hearts forever.
The End