I have a problem with
filling my cup and falling asleep
words come hesitant to my hands
or to my lips too fast
or not at all
A plague of excess
more letters than could ever be made into a
more wine than to ever be
Lose my imagined person
to walk or speak
as a multitude
or a beautiful
nothing at all
I have a burning hatred within me
And I spend my whole life in constant fear
That I'll spend an eternity wondering
If I'll ever expel this or simply let it fester
Have you ever wished to ****?
That regret you know you'll feel later
It doesn't matter then.
It's all about that moment.
Do you want to understand true mindfulness?
Extinguish the life of another.
a sharp blow
swung out by
who was thought a friend
produced a small hole
at the base of my skull
behind my left ear
ringing echoes inside
and shining sparks down
the splits of the mystical dendrite forest
thicker than thieves,
the deep and dark of me
and out of the hole
comes some stuff of wisps,
lavender colored dust
with quiet rays of glimmer flickering all through it
floating and curling in the air thick as smoke
is that stuff me?
then it settled in a fine layer on my lashes
and my alveoli
and my eyes were filled with a vision
time slowed as we moved faster
slowly closing my eyes and then
I was in the porch of my infant home
on a late afternoon when there was the first breath of relief from the heat.
but in the familiar air there was a deep stillness
unsettling as I had never known it
and I looked out into the back yard, and over the tree line there
in the distance was a towering wall of dark clouds
and wind whipped through the line of trees
I closed my eyes and when I opened
I was with my little brothers sitting on the cold tile
of the patio of our home in Costa Rica
and rain was pouring down in lines from the sky,
thick sheets running off the slats on all three sides
I got up and stepped into the rain
Mayala reached out for me and said "¡ joelle, NO !"
this time when I closed my eyes,
I opened them but there was no longer anything
and in fact there was no longer vision at all
I tried very hard to remember what vision was.
I suddenly realized
there was not much left of me.
I felt the purple mists of me going out with the wind
to become the nothing
time moved forward with grace
one step, and two
it was all done.
wishing for the buzz of bees
when little feet walk over me
******* blood and leaving dust
how long have I been waiting?
sleeping on the couch
getting kicked out for subtle comforts
the stench of liberation
boiling in my veins
the mess is a distraction
reminds me of lost passions
am I infinite?
it's a new course!
learning has taught me
that the more you know
the less you want to
and the less I want to
the more I want to
dichotomy of the ever-bingeing
woman you want to ****
and she wants to ****
and she wants to hide
deception of pride!
I still walk with my head up
lips curled, up
survived last night
no throw up
just throwing up hands
one with a drink
always another one
talking too loud about illegal things
When I believed in monsters
And hid under my bed from the tooth fairy
Back in the days of lizard chasing for hours
Fall was the best season.
Fall was everything and everything was Fall.
The seas of leaves, Falling down, scraping knees
The feel of the breeze and tire swings hanging on oak trees taller than fear was deep.
Spring water tasted sweeter than sleep.
Dreams were no different from real life.
All was Fall.
Falling down, falling up.
Falling in, falling out, falling in-
You sometimes remind me of the skin I shed. Bit by bit with every trip.
Building better birdhouses. Bruises, scars, and callouses.
Falling down to the ground. Fall leaves all around.
Scraping knees raw. Growing back...and forth.
Growing in and out.
Catching myself halfway in a reverie.
Coming out. Coming back into the house.
Coming up the hill, growing up still.
Feeling like falling in love wasn't real.
But you sometimes remind me
of when I thought it was
I've been looking without seeing
talking without listening
screaming with no sound
loving endlessly, hopelessly
I'm not proud about the
slamming in my chest,
Fear is tempting me; walk!
Go see him; Go break yourself.
Maybe one day I will learn not to love,
to give, to share, to spend, to hold on,
so quickly, so easily, so hard.
in with the old and out with the new
in with the new and out with the old
in and out with the old and new
this poem, I'm not sure how old,
feels like new!
can you hear me?
have my ears turned inside out
did my voice get lost
change into oblivion?
was my whole soul small change
I threw into a perpetually emptying jar?
I wear down each map I'm given
drown in the pulls of eternal tides
to come back to you
and every turn fades into another
until the years are all lost
today I woke to
the north star falling from the sky
I go into the black
bind stones to my body
go down to the river to pray
down to the bottom of the dark
I break the broken pieces
and break again
I lay down on the pyre
wood wet with weeping
the whole of me a sacrifice
crying out for the flames
can you hear me
a chimney once held between
******* lies on the pavement
head kicked in
against the concrete
embers refusing to let go
of their blood orange glow
I challenged myself not to use punctuation. It was difficult.
Becoming a room,
becoming a hallway,
becoming the scope beyond a door,
widening into sky.
Our breath, every moment,
like water in every direction,
and then space.
a dream where I jumped
over all of the steps
leading to the basement.
a blue house,
ivy crawled the walls
from the outside in.
I jumped the steps
to chase a rabbit.
The stairs disappeared
and I was stranded.
Ivy hung from the cellar
door above my head.