Dear Miss Beauty Queen
Americana Daydream
Goddess to be honest

Wrapped in a crown of Midwest Mindset
I wanna be enveloped in the hope that you project

From your lighthouse
You beacon
You glow-up our city

Hey rising sign,
I wonder what it’s even like
To be in the shadow of the light that you shine

Libra Ascendant,
You’re just so **** inspiring
Like how Lake Michigan seems never-ending

Je nes sais quoi—
I’m just tryna find the right words for you

Arranged on your apartment floor
Weaving worlds
Into a collage of celestial imagery

I'm Stargazing into your galaxy eyes
Watching them burst and come to life
As you tell me all your big big plans
We all know that you ate
What if we’re great?

I swear to Goddess
You’re like a bad ***** Disney Princess IRL
Musing these dreams to take flight
with a little faith, trust, and some of your pixie dust

At the center of our city
Your heart is the art of the war
Dear lil Miss Helen of Troy-
You’re more than the reflection
of the ones that love you—
You’re how the light shines back

Spinning broken mirrors
EARTH THE POWER
Back from the ones that took your grace for granted…

JE Ne sAis quoi,
I'm just tryna find the right words for you...resilient

Laying around, serenely relaxing with insight
Long legs, her knees up in contemplative sight
Delicate feet cradle her glass, a wine’s warm glow
Inspiration’s spark, as the seed of artistry grows

Her bed, a canvas, for dreams to unfold
Brushstrokes of thought, as imagination’s told
A woman’s introspection, inward yet free
A creative soul, colorful and carefree.

Cupid, you foulest of the archers
How you lodge your arrows deep
It is like a fire burning my heart
And I have no room to bleed
Apollo archer of poetry
Please pierce this dart in my chest
That I might write this poem in blood
And with fatal words, confess
She never loved me at all
And I have no reason to persist

I didn't want to sit and pose for you
I didn't want you to paint me
For all that I was in that brief moment
I was not enough yet then
And I had no desire to be your muse
I was sitting right in front of you
Eyes begging you to keep me forever
At the table next to you
On the other side of the couch
Or to the right of you while you sleep
I don't want to be hung on the wall
Not touched for months at a time
Something you passively think about
While I'm left out to dry
What a cruel thing to do to someone
The glass pedestal you put me on
Cut me when I fell from it
Will you paint that too?

as happens, some days, many times,

one thought stops.

Pops, you might think, but
stops, silent. Stop.

Nada mas, allowing critical discernment,

discovering the use of the verb, believe

projecting from letters spelling chants

in single breathed tones exhaled,
in Mongolian we all feel we understand.

Anotia means no ears, in Greek, I think,
persistant notion
conscience, earless urgings, mused
ambient conditions considering,
maybe amuse means being used to be
what
I
am
in mind
being integrally
essentially a thought
in words ex nihilo
in current context, from no good reason
written, never spoken, spelled and cast,

by accident
here… sure the thought terminated…

then you thought it kept on…

In the midnight hour
there are thoughts..  fears..
But mostly  there is a consolidation
a gathering, if you will

Within warm, pulsing plasma
flows erythrocytes
leukocytes
and thrombocytes

Bringing nourishment  to my bones
carrying oxygen  from my lungs
giving swell to muscle
Signifying movement  in me

When you write
there is an Undoing
within my undoing
A building up

as I am being fully  torn down.
There is an entropy when sitting down
Undone, by your wondrous Undoing
An Aliveness  felt

When so little around me,
feels even remotely alive

Love; a rebirth of heavens, albeit it must've been decaying in soil where I was born; it was love, it always has been. I bestowed a departure to the islands that once was a  home, as I'm coming back to the oceans, far from home, calling me. Sky high is my love and so the heaven's in your eyes.

My armor is a disdain, I know I wouldn't be a muse. My hair cascades as the stars and dust dances like the galaxies; I am a beautiful sight. I waltz through the beat of my heart, and she said "heaven, earth, sea" a prayer spoken that's coiled in her chest.

..It brings containment.

When young.. the world was dangerous,
at least the world within my home was.
In order to dilute the moments of perpetration,
I developed the ability to bring my little spirit
into the acknowledgment of atoms,
molecules and particles, within the universe
whose  very entrance into the room..

    could make miniscule,
   that which was behemoth.

In doing so, I was brought into the  awareness
of just how beautiful the Universe really is..
and also the intense depth of beauty that exists
in Realms that are just barely outside
of our awareness.

Within those Realms
and between those Realms,
are spirits that float..  
hovering between this place
and the beauty of that Next one.

Through touching those deeper parts of the Realms,
those spirits are ignited.. .
   and through that beautiful ignition,
   are brought into full flame.

It is there within you, my beautiful friend;
that your Otherworldly words are given birth..
bringing within them, the depth of Love and Healing
  to those of us down here that need it most..

..A beautiful love that yes.. exists within the Realms..
But in it's very essence, flows directly from the Core Heart
of the Universe, which is always the place of Love's origin..
having come from that amazing Heart's deep Ache for us.

That beautiful Ache for us all, deeply touches you..
as you hover in and out of its Realms..
and then deeply touches us..
who have learned to draw on its power and beauty
for even our own very existence.
I am one of those who have had to learn
to draw from those things
just so that my spirit could even breathe..
And in an instant , upon reading,
I realized that you were one of those that go
from this place, up and over to the Next.
What you bring back down to this place,
Ignites every single part of who it is that I am.

You, writing from the feminine form..
mixed with the feminine of the masculine..  
deeply stirs the aching masculine within me.
There is a hunger almost sated,

as it leads into realms of a deeper hunger
and touches a rarely touched, deeper ache.

Warm tingling, leads to almost a tremble..
The deeply-touched heart cannot help but to  pulse
warmly
and fully,
into all of who it is that I am..

Sensations that lead to the need for deep release..
the thick, gathering of that ache
     in gratitude-filled response,

the deepest of penetrations  
into the gorgeously-receiving openness    
of such a beautiful, Life-bringing spirit.

There is a giving and receiving,
that is both Giving.. and Receiving
  in its own beautiful nature.

I hope I have not said too much.
   I am so glad to have you near.