These feet trodden benumbed
enslaved by the weight of the load
loamy earth no longer soft , supple , forgiving of cold tender feet
the pang of crystalline frost heaves beneath winter moss
as if walking barefoot on frigid rocky ground
each step taken in effort to draw nearer ,
apportion the distance between a place once so close ,
and yet ,
now the distance appears so wide
the gravity of the metaphysical makes me weak in the knees
and I drop down and kiss the wintry ground
knowing all my cares lie frozen far below ...
the scent of burning sage
sweetgrass permeates the chill ,
smoke rising like mist into the mystic
a healing smudge carefully brushed with reverence ,
an abounding LOVE cleansing in this earth ,
the atmosphere stirs
I feel the muted words' silence emanating in the air
... knowing I’m not a stranger in the hands of the maker
Waves topple over each other
they create the others beauty
I look out to discover
something before that I did not see..
The water continues!
Far past my horizon
It keeps going
It does not stop
I pours over the earth
and it just keeps pouring!
It cascades down to here
Don't you find Christmas a little askew in its purpose?
We remember a man who, born on this day, walked the Earth some two thousand years ago
By burning pockets with gift giving,
Decorating a door frame with a $70 wreath which will die in two weeks,
Stuffing our faces with high fructose desserts and fat filled ham
Competing for the brightest tree (also going to die in two weeks) and the loudest outside decorations
Did we forget the homeless man on the corner who can't even buy a sock?
Who would give anything for that one sock, perhaps even another sock
Why is Christmas a competition
What happened to Cindy Lou Who, who asked where Christmas was and why she couldn't find it
I seem to think that Christmas should be much the same as Thanksgiving,
But I am the only one,
As we continue to spend thousands of dollars each year's end
And soil what God intended originally for these twenty four hours
Maybe, just maybe,
Spend a little less fucking money on your family,
And spend a little more time with them
It's all that homeless man could ask for,
Besides that sock
This pen is falling apart,
as my life is,
like ashes in the wind,
I hope to be turned back into,
the Earth again,
dirt, worms, and rocks
mean more to this world,
than my existence.
This pen is falling apart,
as am I
"Just sit down
Let me gather my thoughts
We'll break up when I'm good and ready."
And like a God-fearing Christian
For some reason, I listened
To the whisper of my own reality failing
Her mouth moved oceans
To drench my coastlines with doubt
And her teeth reflected suns
That burned the happiness out
and I thought to myself
This is the end of my world
With a pause in her tirade
She caught her breath
As I rose to the surface
before my lungs collapsed
risking a bad case of bends
and as her eyes ripped my being into fibers
I thought there was one last try to make amends
I raised my hand
Her Scorched Earth policy
My own personal holocaust
In hopes that if put on the stand
The jury would at least be hung.
And for a moment
A fleeting sliver of time
I saw the light at the end of the tunnel.
And like a fool
I was blinded
My walls of introversion
And almost like my brother
I continued down this path
Too busy looking forward
To think of stepping back
To view the world around me
As the ground gave way underneath
And every word you said
Took a brick from the wall
Like the world's most dangerous Jenga game
And this time I lost
And was killed by the force of my own timidity
And nothing can give me back what I lost
And nothing can take back what you said
i am every unfinished poem that sits in piles of crumpled paper by your waste bin and every crowded thought in the cranial space above your neck. i am every word that begs to be free from the tip of your tongue but remains just out of your memory's reach. i am comprised of the colors of sunrise but am more the mood of a sunset. i am the familiar fingerprints on your favorite coffee mug. i am a wicker rocking chair on somebody's grandmother's porch. i am bite marks on your pencil and the crick in your neck. i am the vacant blurry buzz of an old television set. i am all of the places i have never been. i am lovers' names carved into summertime tree bark, promising "forever" - only to fall short of that promise by the time the leaves change. i am here. i am not where i belong.
you are the gravity that keeps my feet on earth. you are the atmosphere i breathe. you are the rain that feeds my soul & makes flowers grow. you are my revival and my revolution and the courage i kept hidden inside of closed fists for so long i formed crescent moons in my palms. you are an unstoppable fire that is burning me alive in the best way. you are the only rooftop i have ever visited that i haven't felt the urge to jump off of. you are the gentle hum and rumble of the washing machine i used to nap beside when i was a little girl. you are the creaky wooden swing in my backyard where i sat for countless hours and smoked and cried and pondered. you are all my favorite odds & ends bound together by my wildest dreams. you are sometimes so beyond my understanding, that i wonder when i'm going to wake up; and if i ever did find out that you were just a dream, i would bang on heaven's gates and plead with god to let me sleep. you are there. i am here, you are there.
one of us needs to move.
A world of filtered communication
Silver screens and robotic dreams
Our heads filled with visions of false identities
Mounting themselves above our fireplaces
We live the way we are raised to live
We see what we are taught to see
A flushed salmon rushes upstream
Thrashing and bruised when Ha'nih catches him
We thank the Gahonga, we break, we eat
The tumultuous quiver of the earth
As a spritz around the fire ensues
Peace, essence, and comfort is the way of life
We live the way we are raised to live
We see what we are taught to see
Went to the moon on a Monday.
When the moon was full.
So I could meet the man.
To eat his cheese and hear his sleaze
So I could watch the lunatics.
Down upon his mother earth.
Viewed only through his noble eyes.
Went while the world slept.
Soundly in the noiseless void
The place was cold.
The only satellite near.
I fancied a pint.
Was feeling rather dry.
However I was out of luck.
No-one on the moon sold beer.
He's just languishing.
Only drinking in the midnight skies.
Went to the moon on a Tuesday.
While his was just a half.
Tried to balance of the edge.
But all he did was laugh.
In darkness I did hide.
Lost somewhere went off wandering.
Walking lonely on the darker side.
Went to the moon on Wednesday.
Wednesday was wonderful.
Watched moonlight catch the sun.
In an aura,
An orange holy glow.
Went to the moon on Thursday.
Thought it would be so much fun.
Hiding in the moonlight away from midday sun.
Went to the moon on Friday.
Fancied being free.
Put my high heels on.
So I could just be me.
Kick up non-existent stones,
Have a magic float.
Gravity my missing friend.
Can never hold me down.
Went to the moon on Saturday.
Escaped the what's the matter day.
Never work on Saturday.
Danced on the moon on Sunday.
Partied on til Monday came.
Down to Earth as work's begun!
© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)
Grief, my friend
rolls in as waves, with my back turned toward the sea
The tide creeps in, I sink
a little deeper into the Earth
As it pulls away I am left unbalanced, numb
To the truth, to this new reality, to acceptance, and You
the wind that steers these waves
In all hours of the day, still
You surround me
How can they tell me you're gone?
Today, I held the hand of a man
Only twenty-two years of age
lying in a wooden box
Embodiment of peace, and I wept
watching your eyes, I anxiously awaited you to wake
Then fell to my knees and cursed the skies
For letting you get away
I drove until empty
just to watch the dusk devour the day
Choked down my guilt and prayed
my heart to keep beating
my lungs to keep filling with air
An unbearable feat
though you witnessed my plead, and
Gracefully guided my stare
"Don't cry for me, girl
Look what I can do now--
A moving portrait on the horizon, I saw
Inimitable by mortal hands
Sublime in its very essence and
Your smile led solace throughout my still trembling chest
"Look what I can do now--
I can paint the skies."
One of my best friends took his own life last week and I have absolutely no words to accurately depict anything about anything right now. I like to imagine he's with me everywhere I go. The sunset the night I drove away from his funeral was one of the most beautiful I have ever seen in my entire life and I like to imagine he painted the skies to show me that he is still everywhere and that I don't have to be sad or guilty or worried or frightened.
Dan, I love you, Bud. Wherever you are. I hope you are finally at peace <3
We'd been walking for an age,
Stone by passing stone
We passed ever onward,
Towards our end
Here will do, came the call,
It brimmed with confidence
But it came from, God knows who.
The shadows shift to greet the day,
The shovels drift through seas of waste.
We've struggled here, me and you.
Now fight the earth, and raise this tomb.
But who is speaking?
Where from do they call?
Why was I beckoned here?
Am I really here at all?
Its all so facile!
A predictable jaunt!
It was all called from day one,
Now there's just the motions to evoke.
The dirt brushed steel finds the reaches of the deep
You'd seek to sleep, had you earned your rest
Yet among cartoon images and plastic sets
I think you'll find, you were at your best
To the dark, to the dark,
You stride with brimming smile into the the reach
As if to deprive, yet no one would ever seek
Why scrawl in a corner, what do you hope to yield?
Listen now boy, the dirt is all there is
Bow your head and conceal your task
We'll hit rock bottom and you'll sleep at last.