hungover...
from tiredness,
sleepless as I lay in weight,
heavy heart, blurry brain;
a complete mess.
brittle bones, dull tones, life lost,
courage scattered from the night before.
Trying to remember, "I am not less!"
One way to get unstuck,
own your truth, not give a f@#k,
and be gentleness,
to myself and all around,
which is the most profound
of this journey, I profess.
it's not over.
.
.
.
It's just begun!

"I want to know what love is!"
The ballads croon...

A yearning I can't dismiss.
Seeking love in all the ‘right’ places,
But come up short,
heart strewn, finding no traces —

Straying in dares and when curiosity flares,
Overwhelming sensations birth animosity.
Pushed down, down, down deep below,
dormant, to 'fit in’, the bitter ‘pill,’ I swallow.

Much older now, can I claim my truth?
A Christian? Does that free me: a rebirth?

Am I ‘queer as f#@k’?
Can I truly love without feeling stuck?
The heart requires courage,
But weak am I; keep praying for marriage.

Am I a hopeless case?
Or will I love and truly embrace?

Will I ever be free?
To be fully me?
Or will I keep denying,
and forever friggin' trying
to fit the mould
told of this world?"



f#@k!!! f#@k!!!

Our culture places little value on resting,
being.
Yet,
resting is vital to replenish.
Our twenty-four / seven treadmill lifestyle still falls short.
Blinds us to the fruit of stillness needed by our nephesh.
Be still,
Listen,
Wait,
Feel the beat
It’s calling all of us to one.

Possessed with the urge to do;
Can't settle until things ensue.
Reminding myself of the past; all shall be fine,
You can play, you have time!
Life ebbs and flows,
release the shakes, and go,
Wade in the waters,
Go where there are no borders.
Grieve,
And believe.

In the valley, isolation befriends,
Death knocks; a welcoming relief from suffering.
The joy that once bloomed, suffering now looms.
Nipping at our heels, pain doesn’t rest, but
Lingers around every simple pleasure.

I have a seat at the table,
I will feast til I'm unable!

You’re not going to make it,
You can’t,
You won’t.
Give up.
The expectations are too high,
You'll have to fake it!
Come back down to earth.
The ego taunts me with dreams,
And I feign interest by capturing their record.
But why bother?
What will they amount to?