A journey to and through the heart I go,
moving as the intake
gracefully travels to outtake.
As moments slow and energies rise.
The journey into the heart I go,
a singing to match beat.
Singing like birds that echo divinely.
A journey to and through the heart I move,
dancing as the intake
elegantly travels to outtake.
As sun shines and energies vibrate.
The journey into the heart I go,
where there are no limitations.
Where love of self lives forever.
Oh but a haze.....
A fog, a blow
Oh but a weariness.......
Oh but a fallacy. A curse.
Unless embraced, unless held with care.
The haze can confuse,
The haze, is hanging angel, a shining curse.
If torment will come -- you can allow it to.
If the haze is taken slowly, it can caress you.
There is nothing but freedom and madness.
There is nothing but darkness and pure light.
At the harbor, the docks shake and anchor.
But out at sea there is nothing to guide you.....
And the haze can be the meaning you put.
The winds will blow the direction you gear.
And the haze can be nothing but a story you tell it.
the phone rings
and as always i recoil
my body not set to the ups and downs
far more comfortable in the silence
and open space
i think of the x-acto knife at home
how it will shred through the layers of
paper like tissue
like my breasts
like the soft space between my thighs
a collage though, put together and patched-up
perhaps i've forgotten those envied bits
long gone are the nights of lovers lying soundless
the room filled with the scent of lust
my tongue and mouth dry, lips cracked from kissing
a drawer full of clippings all ready and i'll glue
color and light, texture and contrast mean almost everything
maybe, mostly, wantonly
withdrawn and blindly i imagine the outline
the way the picture will move and i will be seen
a microscopic view at best, even from over there
turned away and forgotten, like the art of long ago
she once flew higher and faster
skies ahead shouting for her to catch up
days like raindrops splashing on the darkened blacktop
now it's more swamp below than land
footing uncertain and pain inflicted
hands ingrained, lashings she deserves
how to come so far and yet be stuck so violently to the web
spun around and around
blood dripping and draining
and the flies circle,
they wait aware of the unraveling of the fleshy pieces
wanting only the remains
she is a sinner, she repents
but the crime, what of it an whose crime is it really
does she walk with these painful heels or flutter off
reminded that time will heal what space has not already
years of distance and she becomes less human
Can one hold the bones of dead dreams
With ashes and embers rising in the air
Walking down a grey road with
a beating heart in hand.
Black and chained, strained and pained
to my mind and soul.
For I want to be one who can finally sleep
but with each passing day, I can't seem
to find rest, or peace.
When will it end...?
The method to my madness.
The rage of instability.
The constant lashes and screams of self-doubt.
I feel so hollow...
What remains when a thought is forgotten?
What remains when one feels hollow?
Once upon a time,
There was a girl
Who met a Shakespeare
They were from different places
With the same passion, poetry.
She was hopeless, until now
He was all set for a bright life.
She walked in darkness
Then,he filled with light.
She had fallen once
Now he's there for a hand.
He was her Shakespeare
she loved his every lines.
He welcomed her into his world
The world of outstanding poetry.
she felt her ship has anchored
After a long journey in the Pacific.