Hey Momma you’d be so proud
of me. I know it’s hard to
believe but my
creature fear has disappeared
for better or worse
a boy with a coin
and a dream in his heart-
love: from the start
of his hand holding mine
and a kiss that defines
what love truly is-
swept me off my
earth dwelling feet

Make a little room
for this build up
of hope
to smother your fears
I know it looks grim
but I’ll light the way
with a torch in each hand
to brighten the eyes

No wolves in the garden
hungry with greed
to swallow the seeds
of all our hard work
beneath all the dirt
is life, after all
above it is air
and a lone lily
stands, firmly and free

wake me gently
to leave my dreams
floating
oblivious, unknowing
to my firm, reaching hand

The moisture congregates on the surface,
and a single drop condenses quickly.
With a blink, it is released.
This salty drip of anguish,
it will crash to the ground below,
or absorb into my clothing,
Until I am drenched, in tears of woe.
One after another, emanated from each cavity,
each oculus becomes clouded, with liquid distress,
as I sit here reduced, to a beautiful, rueful, mess.

Call everyone you know
to sit on this bench of love
Though you put all your weight upon it
though you let out your anger on it
with a hammer
Scratch it
Cover it
Paint it black
it WILL NOT break
Though you engrave your worst thoughts
on its surface
and sprinkle it with lies
Though you spit on it
give your body, soul and spirit to another lover on it
It will not even
    creak or
         move

Though you may try to test it out on many people
take it to a place as dark as night
and let snakes and scorpions crawl around it
and though you question it
until you’re blue in the face
It WILL NOT
BREAK

Call all your friends
to sit on this bench of love
and let them be calm
and let them stop fighting
let them know the Truth
etched deeply in its wood
Let them stop trying to prove it weak
and worthless
and fake
because it
WILL
NOT
BREAK

©2011 Zoe Ray

I have this hot pink heart with lace taped to the edges,
and these deep, deep truths that I suspect might be lies;
I have this system for secrets and, though softly imperfect,
I do have a pair of magnificent thighs.
I have this floodplain soul that's a place for the thirsty
and *****, but sometimes it's still not enough.
I cradle my faults like things that need saving, and
sometimes I burn with shame just like with love.
I have this leaf in my hair that I picked up while walking;
it was pretty, that early, still covered in frost.
It's not much, what I have, but it's more than I came with.
I'm counting my blessings since you counted your loss.

There is a florescent glow to the room,
Our energy echoes off the walls.
I am numb,
Floating above the world, I see it all.
My magic carpet ride is the expansion of thought.
I’m lying on the crimson velvet,
Looking up at myself, and I ponder
What is?
What isn’t?
Who
                          Am
                                                      I?
Thoughts, ideas, and revelations erupt from my core.
It hits me like an emotional pain killer,
Nothing makes sense, though everything is understandable.
Life is an unsolvable mystery.
We have not the technology,
We cannot rebuild him,
We have no Sherlock,
There is no magic key.
Tools are gained as we progress,
But regress is our fool.
Being lost is an understatement,
Though finding is our ultimate goal.

Your night is the day's embryo,
You wake,
You're  a parent to a new day.
You have responsibilities!
No time to do a zombie walk 'til noon.
Time for two, three, lines of finity;
It will jack y0u high on impermanence.
Certainty has never insured tomorrow.
This day is your last banquet?
Fill your plate, but not full.
Do not dine alone.
Say grace, for you are the Pope of the hour,
Your awareness is a sacrament
That blesses everything you see and touch.
Soon your day will die in a ****** cloud
Leaving you with both less and a little more.

Ugly started the moment air filled lungs

Making breath

That finally became wails

Hollering heavy and hollow

Into an already upside down world

Something completely ugly made us

Unless beautiful is unto perfect

And perfect is unto unique

And unique

Is the pattern of pock marks

A bitter snowflake reminder

Of the days my blemished face has bled enough

A broken pattern of scars

From the cancer

And first suicide attempts

And tattoos

That remind us

Whatever is left behind

And is still standing

Is permanent

Including me

Beauty is unto statues crumbling

Still standing

Despite times blunt chisel tip

Let’s be broken down to perfection

Because there’s all this beauty inside

Inside awkward snowflake patterns

Of nervous breath

Making my voice break

During the days when I need to be the most confident

Like when I finally tell you

I love you

And mean it

This messed up mound of flesh

Was given life for a reason

Even if it is just to love

Whoever is around to be loved

I can do that

Despite the hand tremors

And broken toothed smiles

And bitter snowflake reminders

Of ****** up fingerprints

Smudging everything

I touch

I can do that

Because this

This is as beautiful as any of us are going to get

And I am cool with that