My philosophy has always been simple:
Don’t ask
Don’t tell.

I am the expert at lying
by omission.
No,
not lying exactly,
but
wouldn’t you agree
that what you don’t know
can’t hurt you?

Don’t worry about me,
I’m Fine,
always fine.
I can handle myself,
I always have.

Feelings?
I don’t know what you are talking about,
I am a robot,
feelings simply don’t
compute.
You’re knocking at the wrong door.
I have nothing to tell you,
[not anymore.]

Look a bird!
I can manipulate any conversation
away from me,
just by distraction.
The trick is to let people
talk and talk and talk and
forget,
so I can check out.

No one knows the difference,
and I am called a good listener
for doing nothing.
No harm done.
All anyone needs is a blank slate
to talk at.
I can fill that role.

Honesty?
Don’t talk to me about honesty,
what good does it do?
Why should I be honest?
It’s no one’s business anyway.

My philosophy has always been simple:
Don’t ask,
Don’t tell.

Loving you was like
walking off a cliff –
not walking, but
running.

I saw the warning signs,
knew what could happen.
I do not blame Fate
for my own actions,
this was the chance I took.

To be a fool
is to trust
[again],
to be a fool is to
Fall.

And I fell.

Loving you was like
flying.

The height was so great
that I felt giddy,
thought I would never fall,
thought you could catch me,
thought the things you told me
were enough,
were permanent
were safe.

But loving
is never
Safe.

To love
is to be the Fool.

Let me always be the Fool,
let me always be crazy,
let me always be open,
let me always take the risk,
I want to fly.

I knew before we started
That it wouldn’t work out.
I wanted it to
But didn’t want you.
We work in theory
But not in reality.
Too much
Too soon.
I’m overwhelmed
I am the 5 of Cups.
Imperfect relationships
Disappointment
Regret and loss.
You want to be
More than we are.
I’m not sorry
I’m finally me
Finally free.
It feels so good
To not crave any and every
Scrap of affection thrown my way.
I am hopeful
But it's not about you
This is done, no need to move on
How can you leave it behind
When you never felt it from the start?
I owe no explanations
And I will give none.

When the cards are drawn from a deck
you have no choice in the matter, it is left up to chance.
And if you're so willing interpret them, to rely on your intuition,
tuning into the primordial hum of cosmos, it becomes divination:
A direct pathway of communication with the divine.

---

we all have storms that torment us,
it is the natural order of things.

these winds answer to no one
blowing relentlessly
thrashing waves and high waters
rarely in touch with the earthly ground
i am either cast up or sunken down
highly preoccupied in my books and towers
a self constructed world
of bittersweet sea-vines and flowers

blinded from staring into the sun
intoxicated under pure starlight
emotions considerably magnified
all my good reasoning has come undone

these quantum particles are forcibly contained
mistakenly welded into a carbon composed body
an entire being is restrained,
wanting, wishing, craving
trapped inside a shell so limiting

strapped down by a dual personality

–– there is a reason storms are named after me ––

and so i responded to the fire in your heart
by drowning it in muddy waters, but don’t take this personally
because this is what happens when a great deal is asked of me
i only ask for an attempt to understand

if i let myself evaporate into the sky
bearing messages of apology
how soon would you wait to forgive?

my earth, rocks, and trees,
would you be able to forgive the sea?

Every step I take
Brings you closer to the cliffside.
At home, their pictures crowd my pillow,
Whisper like nymphs.
A corroded coin
Apologizes, abandoned in our arid cup.
I turn to face the towering metropolis
And let my ninth staff illuminate the smog.

At the end of the day
it is us -
the sensitive, the women, the marginalized, the empaths -
who are sought out.
It becomes our job
to tame the beast.

Our job to
endure, educate,
be patient, compassionate.
Our job to put on a good face,
no matter what we might feel,
to not expect or accept pay,
unless it is in the form of gratitude.

We cannot be lions,
cannot raise our voices
and bare our teeth,
for that is not good behavior.

That might terrify.

Call it an overreaction but
when we use our voices
we are ignored,
put down,
locked away -
“tamed.”

But we are a force
when we are loud
and when we are quiet –
you will remember us
before the end.

Bright child of the Tarot, a new age awaits you –

but not through the mazes you’re wandering in.

Your gypsy desire and clairvoyant excursions

are setting your beautiful brain all a-spin.

The dog at the precipice barks out a warning:

the FOOL, the MAGICIAN and PRIESTESS are wrong

Pay no heed to their signs and the omens around you –

let faith be your shield when the DEVIL seems strong.

JUSTICE, as blind as the HERMIT is *****,

has seen that our TOWER is stricken and doomed.

The SUN, MOON and STARS in their orbits bear witness

as LOVERS  in ******* to DEATH are consumed…

Egypt can’t help you – the CHARIOT‘s  stalled

While the TEMPERANCE angel was mixing the drinks.

The EMPRESS (a tedious feminist) preaches

an upside down future, the HANGED MAN thinks…

Though the WHEEL almost crushes you turning this way

And the staff of correction has battered you hard

I am sure you will make it, if only you pray

to the sovereign elector who holds every card

for a ray of redemption to light up your way.

Let the major arcana now bow and acknowledge

as  JUDGMENT is sounded and shatters the sky

that righteous and just is the blessed Redeemer

who loves every lunatic card-addled dreamer

like you and like me. Therefore hear as I cry

that the WORLD in its fulness can’t harbor His love –

nor the heavens within nor without nor above…

May the HIEROPHANT‘s dynasty wither away

and the EMPEROR‘s  scepter be broken to shards

as the breath of God’s Spirit comes into our world

to reveal the true STRENGTH of your house made of cards.

touch me gently
let my veins turn to ichor
i am the fool and i have journeyed so far
just for justice to send me
back to my mother

she took me behind her curtain
stars in her hair
pomegranates at her feet
as the thundering chariot rushed by

you were at the reins
those sphinxes drove you to me
you let them derail themselves
in a flashy display of sparks and
circumstance

come to me no longer
ichor burnt me
it clogged up my heart
and when i am cut
people gather
with bowls to collect from the vein

I always lived
in between —not fair
I believed