winter days always remind me of you. the way your feet would touch my feet under the covers. i could never keep you warm, but later i realized that wasn't my job.
your warm breath against my chest, and your icy cold feet woke me up. i wanted so badly to embrace you with all my warmth and love. i woke up to the reality that i didn't have enough warmth to give away. now, i'm warm and alone. i miss your cold feet. slowly waking up, feet and all.
corrosion of the soul happens slowly but surely by crushing grind of monotony.
each day society tells me my value is based on my function and production, and little by little I am crushed by failing expectations that are not my own.
my soul slowly corrodes into nothing, but out of the vast emptiness, life emerges again. I yearn to be free, and this time I bear my wounds with honesty and dignity. I am unashamed about my soul being free to be me.
I have value period, not based on function or production, but simply because I have a spark of life within me. a divine spark that gives brith to new life within me each day, each moment.
Words written to give me hope in a capitalist society that judges me by what I can do and produce, also written to free myself of my own self judgement. I am enough simply being me.
autum comes I am a lone leaf on a tree holding for dear life last one to fall
winter comes and I am huddled on the ground with my fallen brothers and sisters
I return to the earth and absorbed back into the great source the giver of life the tree
spring comes I am reborn again budding, growing and no longer alone on the tree I had forgotten that I was never alone I was holding on when I should of let go to join the great connection of life
Poem written upon Joe's request.
"many leaves, one tree: we're all individuals, but we're all connected."--epic (movie). Great wisdom is in children's films and literature.
Better than a speech of a thousand vain words is one thoughtful word which brings peace to the mind. Better than a poem of a thousand vain verses is one thoughtful line which brings peace to the mind. Better than a hundred poems of vain stanzas is one word of the dharma that brings peace to the mind.
Verses 100-102 from the Dhammapada as translated by Eknath Easwaran.
when my pride becomes unbearable I coalesce into nothing. I rush to You in love, with courage to be vulnerable. asking for help, so I can live.
First line inspired by comment by r that pride was unbearable in response to first version of this poem. Thanks r. A whole new poem rose out of reworking the first line.
I hover between worlds "I am a spiritual being having a human experience" and not the other way around, when I embrace that truth each single moment shines with brilliance.
quote from teilhard de chardin, who was a theologian/ philosopher and Jesuit priest.
i want to be cool like kerouac bursting into a million pieces with complete abandon
oh jack. you were so wise yet so lost in your oblivion. i'm cool like kerouac lost in nostalgia for those aimless wandering years not cool cool it's all the same jack
on the road seeking a new freedom now that's cool like far out zen cool cool like ikkyu
I cry out with a heart of an anarchist being shaped into a pacifist.
I want to put my fists through the hearts of the oppressors.
I show them love.
I bleed onto my enemies.
I bleed for you.
Written in 10/14/2008 I found this poem in one of my old journals. It was during my first year at a Methodist seminary after I had been part of an anarchist community in Cali.
my body craves your touch like i crave a bottle of scotch.
i know that your love is toxic, but my body yearns to possess you until i see fit.
i know such thoughts lead to oblivion, and i want to be healthy and whole.
on most days, i desire to be known fully as i am. i desire for genuine connection, and not mere obsession.
but somedays, the old crazy needy me comes out. behind that dark figure lies a lonely boy desiring to be loved, yearning to be held, and wanting to accepted as he is.
i embrace myself with all my heart, all of me, the crazy me, the sad little boy, and me just trying to grow and heal.
i desire to love and be loved. i am loved. i will someday be united with the Beloved. Till then, happy trails.
I remember when I was lost in depression and self-loathing, how alone I felt.
Even when I was surrounded by people, who I loved and loved me, I felt disconnected and numb.
This poem is a small message to all of you who felt and feel this way that you are not alone.
No suggestions or advice. Often the friends and strangers that helped me the most when I was really lost in myself were the ones who drew near and were just with me.
A silent loving presence means a lot when you feel numb to life. A simple tender touch might not break through the walls of depression in the moment, but I remember those warm touches in hind sight.
Loving presence were subtle lamp posts that guided me out of the darkness of depression, resentments, self-pity, and hate.
All I have are these words as totems of a loving presence given to me by others that reminded me that I am not alone. A gentle touch, a silent smile, or just hearing the breath of a loved one sitting quietly next to you.
dew drops glisten as the morning light dances in peaceful silence
in peaceful silence the great eastern sun rises greening the ridges
Greening the ridges Of the mountains and the vales Delightful—serene.
Delightful— Serene Flowers Waltz Upon The Ground Feel The Rising Sun
Feeling the rising sun Beaming on angelic faces Leaving a heart dazed
Leaving a heart dazed In love with this tranquil scenery - A true beauty!
A true beauty Of love and colours, Brightening life forever.
Brightnening life forever, Like a dove engulfed in a clear sky, Yet a trick of our sore eyes.
Yet a trick of our sore eyes Cannot obscure the glistening Of whispered rain
of whispered rain which drenches our mother earth in a warm and loving embrace
In a warm and loving embrace, The winds prance apace While the rain sings its tranquil grace
while the rain sings it's tranquil grace my soul dances with joy and my heart joins in the song of the universe
To anyone who would like to add onto this, please leave your lines on comments and I will update it as people add on. This is an ongoing collaborative piece.
The format is 3 lines, and 1st line begins with the last line of previous 3 lines. I discovered this way of collaborating on a different site and it's like playing telephone with poetry. You can add multiple times as long as you are not responding to yourself. It feels like a fun game with words.
It's been seven hours and fifteen days Since u took your love away I go out every night and sleep all day Since you took your love away Since you been gone I can do whatever I want I can see whomever I choose I can eat my dinner in a fancy restaurant But nothing I said nothing can take away these blues
'Cause nothing compares Nothing compares to you
It's been so lonely without you here Like a bird without a song Nothing can stop these lonely tears from falling Tell me baby where did I go wrong
Nothing compares Nothing Compares to you
I could put my arms around every boy I see But they'd only remind me of you I went to the doctor and guess what he told me Guess what he told me He said girl you better try to have fun No matter what you do But he's a fool
'Cause nothing compares Nothing compares to you
All the flowers that you planted, mama In the back yard All died when you went away I know that living with you baby was sometimes hard But I'm willing to give it another try
Nothing compares Nothing compares to you Nothing compares Nothing compares to you Nothing compares Nothing compares to you
lyrics to Sinead O'Connor's Nothing Compares to You lately I have been making co-dependent love songs into love songs to God in my head, and if you take this approach, this song becomes a song about struggle with faith and trust.
poetry is my remedy for apathy strange how simple words can cut away through my indifference
the act of creation in the written word helps me connect to something greater than myself, so slowly but surely my numbness subsides
poetry leads me into mystery, where beauty can be found in simplicity of a single moment
my mundane life flowers into a spiritual experience, when I flow into love and service
there is either apathy or poetry in changing a poopy diaper, pausing before saying a hurtful word, and letting go the need to be right.
my life moves and quakes into new being, and all because i let words flow in me and through me. i am a living book bursting at the seams, waiting to be poured out and shared.
spoken and written words break me out of isolation, and sets me free.
two simple words cut through my apathy, "thank you."