Cargo ship

fixing to go. Winds are a cleaning.
Sting the eyes of the passenger

He prepares his feathers.

Damns his past.

Wonders if he'll ever fly again.
But knows that it is floating that he will do until it's sinking he prefers.

Do you remember?
remember the sound
The million cicadas humming so loud
That we didn't remember they were there
Until we left Princeton  and could hear the silence again.
Those cicadas  were 17 years old.
Ten years older then us.
Just discovering life.
Just like us
Remember the day we carved the four faced Jack o' Lantern
Our artists mothers let us be messy
Paper mâché bodies never grow up

Can you count the times we jumped from the oak tree? On to the trampoline.
Your brothers were mean

The times we plotted against them.
The times we went on adventures to the woods
The time we tried to dig to china using spoons in my front yard.
The time i fought over you with another girl
The time you liked me back but never said
The time you got sick and couldn't play
The time the doctors took you away
And you came back with a scar on the back of your head
Stitches and bruises and blood on the bed
The day we didn't play as much anymore.
The day when we sold our house on palmer lane
The day your mom's fiancé left and never came back
The day we spent by the river
And the day after when your mom brought roses
And sprinkled them on the road
As we drove south with the big yellow moving van
Remember forgetting the time we remembered
do you remember?

Long white arms,
She had long white arms.
Almost glowing with their own light.

And long black hair. So black that the light seemed to be ****** into it's depths. It stole the lightness.

Eyes so stormy the sea bucks and brays when it sees the thunderclouds behind long thick lashes.

Her whole body is humming.

Deep powerful energy inside.
It's impossible to extract the nature of what's causing the convulsions.
Light or dark.
Milk or Coffee...
Or ancient pulsing rivers.
But it is causing her to crack and sway and cry and pray.
She took a razor

A razor so sharp it could cut through the worlds.

And she sliced a piece of pure white skin,

and out poured royal blue blood.

With hints of purple and specks of gold, and greenish hues,
with stars so old that you see the light of a million years ago, but it gets caught in your eye centuries after it dies.

The blood pours from her, trickle then a flow, expanding the universe.
Giving birth to galaxies.
And the energy is released from her.
The darkness and the light.
The demons and goddesses.
They all leave in a silent procession.
and she sways and topples, thundercloud eyes grow dark, then roll up and away.

Convulsions cease as she is submerged in the blue veined sea of her own creation.

The silent procession of her dark possession leaves on tiny ships into the dark horizon. Purple and gold galaxies.

We are all born from goddess blood.

I'm a new writer
And I already need time away from writing
Because all I want to write about
is you

When I think about writing
When I think about poetry
You are the first and the only thing
that comes into my mind

You are poetry incarnate
You are my muse
and I need you to be not

I need time away from poetry
because I see you in every one
I said I'll stop for a while
but here I am again
including you in my writing
Writing about me not wanting to write about you

It hurts
Every time I write, it hurts
As it keeps reminding me
that I didn't get you
That in this world,
there's not a happy ending story
of you and me

Thank you
       I say quickly, out of nowhere.

For what?
      you question.

Reasons pile up so fast
in my head that they avalanche,
forming a barricade to my mouth.

For everything,
      I say simply,
      meaning so much more.

For loving me,
       I think simply,
       meaning so much more.

Where has my light gone?

It used to be there.
Inside my chest.

You could reach in and peak at it. Glowing always.

Time is slipping

or maybe time is constant and I am falling behind.

Is it to late to save the memories, as time floods past me?

What was I when I was small.

That child so fierce and true.

Present, curious, always prepared, in training for a life of wild possibility.

Now alone, sick, and lazy, uninspired and utterly unmotivated,

I search for the spark that lit me before.

That light that I knew was unique to me.

I am special. I am meant for great things, I am the hero.

Who whispered these false words to me as I dreamed.

Was it my own strange ego elixir that I concocted and fed myself daily?

Was it angels who told me these things?

Are the still true?

Will they ever be?

Where has it gone. That light that fed me and kept me alive and angry...

Caged and dependent; I was still free.

My mind is in a cage now.

attached to wires that beep and pulse and need constant energy.

I want to cut them away from me, but those wires are the only things connecting me to my world.

Do I want to be a half dead battery leaching away at my own life?

Could I escape before it’s to late?

I search for pleasure, distraction, entertainment, stimulation.

Make me feel again.

Anything.

Approve of me.

I have to escape this maze. Rip out these chords, let the blood remain on the ground.

Time to run to the silence, let me hear silence.

My ears will have to break the addiction too.

No more white lines blocking their sense.

Time to be alone with myself and finally hear the universes heart beat within me.

But what if my boss calls?

What if i am too late?

I will open the tiny box inside my chest, and it will be empty.

Darkness.

No light remaining.

I’m writing to you because I miss you.

And you may be my one true love.

My first at least.

Though i didn’t know it when I met you.

I miss you

I miss the way you welcome me in

The way you understand me.

I miss the way you can see my truest self.

I miss the way I become myself when I am near you.

the way you are me and apart from me all at once

The way the stars look reflected in your eyes.

I never fear you though others do

I embrace your wildness

Your resilient good humor.

Your unique, nothing else like this, feeling.

The tear tracks on your heart from a thousand brutal fights and you still have so much love.

I kiss you and I can taste it

I can taste the fire, and the sunlight,

the trees and the vast distant rolling savannah.

When i touch you I can feel it

The drumming.

The gum boots, the stampedes, the thunder.

And when I close my eyes,

I can hear it.

The lions roar, the elephants trumpeting.

The thousands of tons of water at Victoria falls

The fish eagles cry

The singing boys at the choir school

The bushman's clicking language.

The cheetah's purr.

The wall of fire from the wild burning days.

The laughing.

The dancing. The singing. The fighting.

And as I breath, you breath,

As I rest, you lie awake, a quiet guardian in the night.

I lift up my hand and you take my fruit.

You silly little bushbaby.

I’ll give you my pineapple forever.

I hide behind the small acacia tree. and I see you.

I see the great king of Africa.

Isilo the Elephant.

The eyes so wise.

The tusks so fierce.

I am protected by you.

Beauty is to small a word to describe the way your body curves.

The blue of your skin. the green hues, the deep orange gold of winter hills.
The purple sunset.

The wetness after a storm.

The glowing embers in the night.

The dragons back. the most magical thing I have ever held in my eyes.
I miss you

Little grandmother on the hill.
Who bakes and meditates.
and drinks tea and gets her way
because *******, I deserve respect!

And little chocolate friends.
Your shandy on the rocks.
Your cottage in the woods.
Your cats and now your coming twins.

And the neighbors who play with eagles.

And Barrie who let me fly in his plane after only knowing his name five minutes.

And the witch who lived next door and could turn into a leopard.
And my grandfathers paintings that cover the old hotel.

The way people say my name.
The way I become myself.
And for the first time in my life,
I know who I am.
Released from my old stale life, I was rooted in magic, and earth, and love, and sacred eternal energy.
ADVENTURES so magic... I could cry.
I miss you so
I miss who I am around you.
I wish I could find you here.
I will find you again.
I will come back to you.
My beautiful country
One day

I am the leaves falling
Through the October sky
Gracefully accepting
A fate I did not decide

I am the moon as a cloud
Moves to cover my face
It doesn't count as hiding
If I was forced in this place

I am the birds fleeing
From the season of cold
Avoiding the inevitable
Searching for a new home

I am the wind as it sweeps
Through the forests
Invisible until someone
Feels my presence first

And I am the feeling
That you get late at night
You don't know what's wrong
But nothing feels right
And you're too nervous to try
To turn on the light

The weakest shade of blue
Is the color of my eyes in the dim light of my room
As I sip a lukewarm beer
Headphones crammed into my ears
Filling my head with distortion and feedback
Replacing the noise in my brain
With a more aesthetically pleasing version
I never want to see you when I'm sober
But I want you so bad