Considering hostility
    I feel violent.
Considering wonder
    I am awed.

I heard a French widow
say that there is
someone in each of us
    who loves
and someone in each of us
    who kills.

My walk to freedom;
There is no tomorrow.
Yesterday is gone.
There is only here, now.
Let the forest speak:
The mountains and the water,
Hear their voices, they become
pathways to wholeness, giving you
Freedom in thought.

I was the crescent moon, a sliver in the night,
Yet in his gaze, I found a radiant light.
He saw me whole, beyond my fragmented part,
Love's alchemy, merging soul to heart.


In phases of shadows, incomplete and bare,
His eyes unveiled the beauty hidden there.
A crescent's curve, a tender, silver arc,
Yet in his vision, a masterpiece embarked.


His love, a symphony, the missing tune,
Transforming fragments into a whole monsoon.
I, the crescent moon, in his orbit swayed,
Completeness found in the love we portrayed.


Through waxing and waning, love remained,
A cosmic dance where wholeness was gained.
In his embrace, the crescent found its grace,
Love's magic turning fragments into an embrace.

Tale of the none, with silence
The risks we endeavor, are forever?
And a daydream, that has a moment to suffice
Create me an avid soul, shrewder thoughts for lovers...

People of charming since
And guarantee's hence, with a smile
Of recourse, I will know a rage, insight lends
The times of virtue in calm, and duty to shyness...

Mercy in a carried few
Witnessing the gifts and presence of mind
With the senses of curiosity come patience, we due
To a passion of simply asking for help, in time

Allied solace, the terms and needs of equity
Privileged intuitions of a charity in call, and prowess
The turn of composure into gold, absentia in divinity
Suggesting hope, is a long cool look at love we guest

Many days like these
Energy in forms we can understand
Solitude forth a response, to aging tomorrows we please
First and foremost, the basis of comparison to answer a land

My needs are my promise
Salutations in couth, the liberty to accept austerity
With the sincerity of kind, a sharing seemliness of the wise?
And to a shrewder how in the season of now, the candidness of disparity?

Compartmentalized;

..An elevated view  of you
shows booth, after booth,
after booth, after booth,
after booth, after booth,
after booth, after booth,
after booth, after booth,
after booth, after booth,
after booth, after booth,

.. after booth, after booth
   Each one  partitioned  with

an impenetrable  curtain
hanging off of  a bone-frame
stainless steel  pipe structure,
Built high enough  for the
different parts  of you
to sense, but not   feel..

what part of you
is in the other booth.

   Problem is,

You want and expect
me to orbit around it all
as if each isolated part
   is,  in itself..
actually the whole you..
when I know it is  only
a  tremendously-lonely
    part of the whole.
And you take love  to be
some form of blindness
  on my part

--to the elephant in the room,
And I tell you I love you..
And I tell you,  

               "No.. I won't do it"

--And your shame  kicks in
causing you to  feel
     I'm too harsh..

        or being judgemental.

Yet all along, you are knowing--
That just a few moments  with me..
and the walls come tumbling down.
   .          .          .          .         .          .          

When the partitions  drop
(that is your terror)
(that is your horror)
You will not annihilate
into a million fragments  
   of nothingness

The you(s)..  of you
will meet one another
for the very first time
since you were first  dismembered
(fragmented, so very long ago.)
You will not  disintegrate, love..

You will  Re- integrate.

Love does that.  It does.
But you already know that.
Yet still you hide (.. from me.)


You are addicted  to the 'comfort'
the partitions's isolation brings.
Your relationship is not with
the sum of the parts  as a whole..
but with the internal  "construct"  within you--
  the chasm..  the gap..  

--the empty space between those parts;
as it uninstalls one part of the intricate you
and re-installs the next

And you have no idea   how to
   orchestrate
the many different parts  of you
   like a conductor would do
   with his orchestra..   therefore,

You can only be in relationship
with one part of yourself at a time--
..Each partitioned  'self'
has an e-mail address
Each one  has
a separate account  of its own..
Each one,  within itself..   convinced
that it carries within itself
its own, separate genetic imprint

Each one,  you can  milk  
within its incompleteness
     as if it in itself,   is complete--
    .. Flaunting it, flaunting it;  
    as though it is the complete you
  while all other necessary  parts of the whole
  remain dangerously dormant..
   --being Unholy-ghosted  by

    whatever currently-visible part of you
    now  has control of the ship.


--And throughout the years
I am expected to weather the storm
and gather  pieces,  from pieces..
and then magically (oh.. I can..)
piece them all together as I speak to you
without you having to even  feel
the tension (absurdity)  of the
mis-placed  accountability
   (and responsibility)
    to enter into love
    as a Whole (the sum of many parts)

And so here I am..  orbiting    
    orbiting  orbiting--
around your ever-changing  mood swings;
        the   "Paul-is-good,"  one day
        and  "Paul-is-bad,"  the next,
       (those ever-changing perspectives,
       gaslighting.. gaslighting.. gaslighting)
   --in order that you might  remain   'the same'
   based on whatever current-visible  part of you
   is currently at the helm..

       The current pilot of the ship
       wholly unaware of the leadership styles,
       opinions and views of that  of the last.  
Harsh sounding.. I know..
(but you know..)

And so, here's the rub--

You are feeling your days
to be numbered..
You have been around me
too long, love.
(that is your fault)   You knew.

https://hellopoetry.com/poem/4159831/tourniquet-smiles-yeah-that/

I wrote that  such a long time ago


We are getting closer to Home, love.
I wrote this strange little ditty
before I wrote that other one..

https://hellopoetry.com/poem/3383529/fragments/

What you have feared  most
has now given way
to the sound of inevitability

   (You should have ran
             ..but you didn't.)


..The sound of inevitability
 isn't really a sound at all..

..It is the  sound of you  still
  standing there.❤

My friends,
We try to stay safe through doing what is familiar
By avoiding those places of pain and discomfort within ourselves.
And we may stay safe...
Safe within the walls of our self constructed prison
Safe in our loneliness and isolation
Safe in the same old patterns which keep us narrow, small...
But safe.

And in this place we fear to open the unlocked door to our own liberation...
We fear to step out into the light
Because we know that to find our glorious presence
We must travel through some dark corridors in our minds
Through some fearful rooms within our soul.
Confront places of pain in our hearts
And release the tears which are trapped there.

Lean into the mystery
my friends.
Lean into the discomfort...
It may be that there is a force there to support you
That you will remain buoyant as the winds of life flows past around and through you.

But it may be that as you lean... you fall....

You may fall into the abyss of mystery and unknowing.
Fall into a new and unknown space,
Where you do not know who you are
Or what to do next...
And in that dark obscured space you must feel you way forward with your heart,
Step into your wholeness and be guided by that deep ancient force with in you
Your old familiar ways will not work here.

What will you find there?
Deep in that space of mystery
That none may charter except for yourself
What new wonders will be uncovered?
What new gifts are waiting?
If we only have the courage to abide with our selves
If even for a moment?
How will you know unless you take a deep breath.
Still your mind
And lean forward into that Abyss...

Lean my friends and find out...

Hey kid..

Vulnerability is your access in to what is real,
though  as you know..
not always is it safe to do or be,  in this world..
in fact, there are those who will,  or have..
shown you over and over again,  
that vulnerability of heart with them
will get your sweet little *** slapped down into the dirt..
over and over again..
(as if you did not already know, firsthand).

There are many reasons those people behave that way,
and every single one of them  deal with hurt..  
and hope (when they still had it),  being unfairly
and unkindly stifled back inside of them.  
In hating  and then stomping all over your vulnerability,
they are in truth, hating their own..  
and rightfully so, for what they had to endure..

but until they want to see and change,
they will be the death of you..  
   or at least the death of your awakening heart.


But there are those who thrive on vulnerability
because they have learned to believe  once again..
in the word, Hope..  and when vulnerability  of another
comes towards them,  they cannot help but celebrate it
from the place inside of them  that is overwhelmingly grateful
     that it still exists.

.. When you open up that way, I want to kiss you deeply.

In truth, all vulnerability and authenticity at that level
should always be met with the deepest of kisses.
You have the right idea..  but sometimes with the wrong people.
You've been nearly trampled to death in the process--
starting at such a tremendously tender, young age.

It makes a person edgy..
(and if  extremely brilliant,  in that gorgeous brain of yours..)..  
ya, kid.. sarcastic AF.

That's where you get hurt.
That is where you hurt yourself.
At times when the emotional **** hits the fan,
and everything starts feeling like its all going wrong..
that gorgeous brain separates itself  from that beautiful heart..
making it feel as if it has gone dark..
and then that brain..  thinking that it has been left to its own
survival resources,   turns 'mean' ..
in its own perceived abandonment by the heart.

At those moments, you feel  the horrendously-black
and empty, loss of self..

That is when it all starts compounding, quantitatively
No one understands, and so when you  actually
are needing it the most,
Grace  through understanding, in an instant  gives way
to judgment and ridicule by others..  causing you by necessity,
to retreat further back into yourself..
relying on more and more  of the one time, necessary (when little)
but now so relationally-damaging,  survival skills.

Beautiful girl with beautiful heart  and amazing mind,  
becomes fragmented..   compounded by her own  
now nearly out of control,  age-old tactics and behaviors...

And those that do not understand,  stand back and paint
(and allow to have painted) a view of you..  that in truth,
truly is not you..

but is only self-protection/survival-mode,
but on steroids--

Beautiful heart,  implodes..  
within the loss of its much-needed,  beautiful self.
Brilliant mind goes into hyper-drive,
now left alone to its own, survival-resources--
Hacking it out in the ******-up wilderness,  without  
its much trusted and needed,  Compadre..
     that Beautiful, beautiful heart.

You are not that person, Babe.
You are the owner and possessor of two extremely-gifted organs--
both placed into you  to be in full relationship with each other.
That is who you are.

When they are fragmented  and torn from one-another,
that is not truly the true, you.  But since they are both yours,
you are in the strongest essence, accountable.
Somewhere within all of that,  
guilt and self-condemnation kick in..
and literally beat the living **** out of you.
That brain of yours, Babe..  it is beautifully-brilliant
and also quite the *******.  
You are not "mean".
You are not "unkind"   or "unloving"
(though, in essence-- at those times, you are)

No..

..You are temporarily detached..   fragmented--
separated from what it is that you so desperately
need the most---    y  o  u.
.. But your own guilt and self-judgment
slap the **** out of yourself
almost as hard (sometimes harder)
than the one who is now pointing their finger at you..

                                                       in all of their hurt.

All you need, is Understanding.
Love cares enough to want to give you that.
Love cares enough to want to take care of its own story

so it can better see and understand
how to help you with yours.


     That is what you need. That is what you deserve.
     That is the kind of love you are worthy of.


You are everything beautiful that I have been saying that you are.
Within your at times,  own Great Divide..
the blackness between the two parts of you  that you need most,
completely blocks out  your own, much-needed view of you.

I see the picture, my Beautiful..
I have a right to speak to you this way.
You took my breath away, right from the get-go.

       The only way I could get even
       was by looking directly at you.

It is your talking and opening up that did it.
What you so often and so rightfully need to run from,
is the very thing that is actually,  most saving you.
To be "seen" is to be understood..
if the one doing the looking
    is doing it for all the right reasons.

       No one has ever understood.
       That is where you get hurt.

And  in the aloneness within it all,
is where you hurt yourself the most.


       Mm.
       This party is far from over, Babe..
       Far from it, beautiful girl.
       ..And so it is with Magic.


       You are beautiful, beyond words.
       ❤️️

In this place poets care, share, and like
Encouraging each other along.
Lifting hearts up from deep trenches
of Ignorance, ill traditions, misconceptions and lies.
Drawing back curtains, just enough
to quench the masses ceastless wondering,
"There must be something more?!"

Your creative holy work has a great purpose!
Escorting the hopeful aspiriant to the place
Where the shadow dawns into explosive light!
Gently nudging, englightening cognizence of new awareness
As pieces of puzzlement merge into a glorious whole!

Dear Poets, you matter
Nevermore, doubt your place!!!
You are among the Inspiritors of the Earth!

Pieces of me
F  l  o  a  t  i  n  g

S
     i
          n
               k
                    i
                         n
                              g

Hiding below the surface

Keeping them submerged takes effort
Drains energy
Makes the pieces feel like a secret
                                       wrong
                                       shameful

What if
I lose them
Buried deep

Out of sight
Out of mind
Never to be seen again

The fear seems foolish sometimes
                                                       ­       but terrifyingly real

To be always incomplete
Never able
To put the pieces back together

What if my self didn’t need to fragment
For others’ comfort
Their easy understanding
And acceptance

Wholeness is hard to imagine
Especially for the pieces that started to s
                                                               ­       u
                                                        ­                b
                                               ­                          m
                                                               ­           e
                                                    ­                       r
                                                               ­             g
                                                  ­                           e
                                                               ­                  before memory began

What a wonderful dream though
To always have access to all of your parts and pieces
To in fact not have pieces

To just be

One person
                         
Complete
                                         ­   
And whole