The one that He loves
The one that He cares
The hopelessly lost
Not finding hope anywhere

The one who's unsatisfied
With life's turn of events
Who's been trying to hide
From that life ever since

The Cross Of Christ Is For...

The fatherless child
On the empty door step
The last lonely mile
Of the dead mans last breath

The kings and the queens
In their palace of pearl
The truth is so clear
It's for all of the world

The Cross Of Christ Is For...

Those dying of thirst
In the desert of life
Those on the high raging sea
With no land in sight

In the joy of the day
In the sadness of night
The Cross of Christ is for
All that is needed in life

I bought a beer,
twice,
for Richard Brautigan
in 1972
at Thomas Lord's bar
on Union Street
in San Francisco.
Each time,
he was already drunk:
this is what
the literary life
means.
-mce

Dear world,
       If you're reading this, know that I'm alive.
Life is too hard and it hurts too much.
So I accept your challenge and I will live.
And love.
And hate.
And smile.
And breathe.
My family loves me and Libby is angelic.
There's not a day goes by when I'm not
Living for them and I adore it.
So I praise chance or fate or god or whatever runs this ****
Because they gave me this chance to feel

-grace

Then we met more often.
I stood at one side of the hour,
you at the other,
like two handles of an amphora.
Only the words flew between us,
back and forth.
You could almost see their swirling,
and suddenly,
I would lower a knee,
and touch my elbow to the ground
to look at the grass, bent
by the falling of some word,
as though by the paw of a lion in flight.
The words spun between us,
back and forth,
and the more I loved you, the more
they continued, this whirl almost seen,
the structure of matter, the beginnings of things.

Nichita Stanescu

“A woman needs to find a way of creating boundaries that is not a violation of her instinctual feeling of wholeness.”*

daring like a ballerina
simple as a peach orchard
she loves me like a daughter
from the height of wonder
I look at her with innocence
like a mother
I teach her how to stare in the sun
to see flowers of light
the fragility of colours
and how stories happen in the dark
the hardest part is letting go of knowing
reinventing the smile
words stand there not pretending
tangible, waiting to be broken
here is everything letter by letter

cruel and demanding
like a song, like a perfume in autumn
“I lend you my fairies,
you lend me your arms”
silk embraces
uncracked choices
I follow her into laughter
She follows me into tenderness
little exchanges, attunement, failures
when to draw a line
when to plunge into circles
store fat miracles
a grasshopper is coming in
propelled by the infinite desire

“you don’t have wrinkles, mama”,
she laughs
a bird came to nest in your heart,
don’t frown, mama
let’s yell to scare baubau
"should I make it yellow?"

every day she’s mapping my honesty
giving me her burden of childhood
and we found ourselves raw and dreaming
in between hearts

Sleep.. within thoughts.. with your memories of the day.. share your dreams with others... golden sand will be on the wooden floors of the dream chamber.. light blue flame will burn as u enter.. all the others here are dreaming also.. pour your emotions and get drunk off their souls.. one night we will all fly together. . Toward the 12th star above libra. Above and beyond reality. .

If your lies told me truth, then I shall believe them true..

What we had, was it all a dream?
And you left and leave me dying
Am I supposed to go on alone living
When you're the one leaving me hanging

All the promises that we made
That you would never leave
And I'll never be replaced

And I realized from the start
From the beginning to the end
When you said, Hello & Farewell
It's still the same
We were nothing.