You are sunlight
glinting through raindrop prisms



*a weeping angel

I’ve been waiting
waiting for words to appear
in front of my eyes
like that invisible milk ink
trope
secret messages appearing over fire
for our victorious protagonist to read
But no words come
to describe how I imagine myself kissing
You
I’ve never felt so empty of emotional vocabulary
I don’t know if I’m just lonely
Just if
I’ve always been lonely
I don’t know if I’m finally
too old for such affected flights
of fancies
with strangers
my mind has picked up ostrich feathers as if they were diamond chandeliers
Too quick to hang them in the Hall and worship silly feathers
I swore I shouldn’t fall in love again
To love again
would destroy my weakened mind and body
I breathe in shaky breaths and hear you speaking rationally
between friends
I’m just a lonely lover
Too tired to be anything more
than one bright star
in the short hours before you see your dawn

Sometimes I look at all my art
in rapturous awe
other times in apathy
but mainly with pride
Some days
I think I’m just a ******* mess
A ****** rainbow built from dumb and harmful ideas

I like to paint my eyelids rainbow
to color all I see
Different shades of reds
And blues and greens
I do write with colored tear drops
and so the paper's stains . . .
must oft contain the lies of lovely feelings

I look back and read and wonder
at the garden on display
And I ask if what I wrote about
was just my own artistic creations
washed
Away

I learned to stand,
and break my fall,
To give space,
when quarters squeeze and ache,
But have I learned to defend?
I know how to chase,
But how do I keep?
I can lift a knife to cut into my family,
But can I lift my hands to build a home?
Love, like a child,
comes along easily enough,
But keeping it alive is hard.

in the end
it doesn’t matter
what the human body looks like underneath
in the end
it doesn’t matter
what the human body wore
the flimsiest of veils
or a walking edited wonder
it’s all but a soul’s projection
and eyes that see
see through everything
to gaze upon what they desire

You rise,
in delicate, undeniable beauty
come once,
you never return quite the same
Today like the coloring of a bruise
that was the pain of night
A symbol that all trauma fades
into strength and story

“A messiah for the rest.
A terror for your own”

Like a caterpillar, speaking with the artist,
Am I with you,
You have told me what colors will be on my wings,
Colors others don’t want to see,
But when the time comes,
I will fly, and be every color you want me to be

relief
but
not release
one night more
but nothing can speak for the future
not yet

You used to be so far away,
Your colorless face was hard, surrounded by clouds
And I never tried to hold Your hand,
But now, I see you ever clearly,
The brown of Your beard, and I feel Your arms
So soft and strong about me,
My heart starts to beat in time with Yours,
And my head rests in Your lap,
I know the safest place, and my dearest friend
So much more, but everything they said
Oh, I cry out for a more true vision,
And a stronger touch,

I bow, I dance, I sit, I cry, I lie in helpless heap at Your feet

I am like a bird, shaking out it’s wrinkled wings to finally fly,
When I am strengthened by Your heart

I want to know
where your mind falls
when it’s heavy
I want too see what ledges your heart
meets in anxiety
I want to know what draws your idle fingers
and see the devils that play your organs
when you haven’t slept all night
I want to be there
to watch you struggle
until you willingly wade
into my deep acceptance
For Love is a window of ever clear glass
the more pure the love, the more honest the view.

I find myself
strangely silent
my chat box sits empty
I think of you and sigh
once I did so well
why do my fingers hang so limply now?
my heart cools
as if floating in a murky pond
and I don’t know if I’m too busy
I’m too content
or I’m too ambitious
to pursue again
Or if I don’t believe
I know how to find a heart at all

if today has taught me anything
it’s that I’m going to need you every day this week

My heart sadly asked for privacy
but the words in my mind tumbled out

what a bitter taste is left in my mouth!
The knowledge I had a hand in this poison does little to draw it out
not one thing remains to be missed
Not a word
not a syllable
not a kiss
I’ve heard the lingering flavor of lust
More than merely resembles Disgust
But I hate to consider my love to be Dust

I lay on the pyre
burning . . .
bleeding . . .
longing for my flesh to be finished
completely stripped away
Sometimes pouring is preceded by drilling
And joy so thrilling interspersed by lengths of crying
burning . . .
bleeding . . .
whispering away the trauma of old or newer lies
my Lover hears my cries
and calls me on to sing it all

And we’re both too recently scarred
to be far enough from fear
of foolish affection
So we ask each other simple, surface questions
only a few every day

I fell asleep
fighting to untie the fears knotting in my chest
that you felt less sweetness towards me
I tell myself you’re busy
I tell myself you’re sick
I tell myself this happens
and it doesn’t even matter
I am able to put it aside for the night
my head resting on Christ’s hands  
But wake up with a lump in my throat

Confidence is the knife
that slowly slips between
curtains of black oblivion
to fling forth
into the world and light
Your great beauty
in Your time

You call out dreams within me
Like pulling out folded saris
from boxes waiting on attic space
Colors I’d almost forgotten
come tumbling down like a rainbow waterfall of fabrics
I long to drape them again
and walk my own adventures

I spin,
Like a skater,
Faster,
Pulling my arms closer to my body,
Then pushing them out,
To slow,
In,
Out,
Like cascading melody,
And weave across the ice,

I praise you, Lord
    for you have lifted the boulders of my  mind
    and broken up a highway to Joy

A poem is a breath
that two people who have never met
can share

I sprang from the mind of God
born into fullness
furnished with untarnishing bronze
and iron weapons

I was formed in power
Adam began in dust
I was breathed through bone
He recognizes himself in me
Yet cannot understand the change
Or his great need for the strength I bring
I’m his most important friend

Throw your dice as you might
but you will never win the World’s game
For the rules always change
faster and faster as the day wains

Poems have a funny feeling, especially before they start,
A weakness, a pull, a longing in the heart,
To give words to something that is just a part,
Of greater unknown,
Poems have a funny feeling, like tears trying to get out,
The steam of life’s hottest moments, gathering at the spout,
Their release is like a shout,
Of laughter,
And when the tears, and cries, and giggles,
Have all run out of ink,
Only sleepiness remains, and feeling,
That knowing is a little closer.

Gluttony,
Like every sin,
Is built upon a Lie,
The Lie,
That what you have sat down to enjoy,
Is Closer,
Than Love,
My heart calls,
And cries,
Wanting to be comforted in real arms,
Not chocolate,
Not honey,
But warm mouths,
And strong hands,
And words woven,
In Heaven.

Gold doesn’t elbow it’s way onto your front door
It doesn’t scream it’s own name in throbbing lights
at night in city squares
It doesn’t drip down television screens pleading for recognition
No, gold waits
Gold sits with his head held high
But his body down in mud
He finds a bed at sea just as comfortable
there, in the dark deep
as he does old, forgotten heaps
of pillaged treasures
or the velvet pillows that support his form
contorted around bright gems and pearls
in palace throne rooms
He knows nothing and no one can take away his identity
even on the off chance they didn’t recognize him
He’s elemental
and you love him for his service
He lives to serve
For in service he is glorified

So I recently joined eHarmony and you know what my biggest fear is? Going on a date and discovering the guy is sexist, or worse, only finding out after several dates. I’m fully confident I can spot most major issues before deciding to meet up, and any I’ve missed prior I’m sure I can spot in person, but I don’t have a clue how well my chauvinist radar works. I never really thought about this before this week. Maybe it’s because of where I’ve arrived in my journey of self-discovery and self worth. I ******* hate the term “Lady”. It’s outdated. I don’t have a use for “Gentleman” either. You’re a good person or you’re not. I guess this actually stems majorly from my pain in my last relationship, with a controlling dude who was a bit sexist. What am I afraid of? Being made to feel small. Having my feelings invalidated. Not being encouraged to express my joy, my pain, my sorrow, my anger, every part of me I want to express. That’s what I hate about the idea of “a lady”, it so often portrays a woman who hides her feelings. **** that! Change the heart, but never cover it up.
I want to be allowed to bloom, I want to watched in expectation and awe.
I want you to be waiting for my next move yet somehow always content.
I want you as a bursting star meets bursting star in emotional brilliance. I want you to be open and ready for all I am to fall into all you are.
I want a glorious canvas covering itself in shocking color to find me as their inspiration.
And that’s why it’s so hard for me to write a list of what I want in a man. I don’t know what to say, I want to be part of a ******* fireworks display?

I breathe out to release . . .
what?
I breathe out to release . . .
what?
I breathe out to release . . .
what?
I will tell you when I return from meditation

Is it a stereotype
or a more common truth
that a woman finds her strength
when she walks away from a man?

A son of God
I feel so stretched
Like gossamer cords my spirit is pulled
out as far as a galaxy
Image shakes
the shivers of foundations rising
against the scaffoldings of pain
marble white like fused tectonic plates
glistening from a sea of tears
“What a breathtaking Mausoleum”
I groan in faint and whisper in exhaustion
my fingers bleed from working chisel and axe
but my wrists are strong as ever
As rumbling echoes of thunder
Your chuckle reaches me
And stronger fingers lift my heart
and eyes
“Do not think of finished work,
don’t quell your growth with lies
So you say you wish to die?
For someone craving greatness
that’s strange to sadly sigh
Your life is far from over
not even yet begun
Don’t claim you’ve accomplished enough and with earthly ***** living done