You are always with me
Even though I have separated from you
Even when I feel alone and unloved.
You are always with me

You never forsake me even though
I  have forsaken you,
Your love is the gentle breeze
That ruffles leaves on trees.
It is the glue that holds mountains in place
And keeps Earth on its axis.

And even though I have forgotten
All my  highest aspirations.
Your love is in the warm darkness of caves,
And the light of dragonfly wings.

No matter where I hide and what  I do
You never forsake me.
Your voice is in the sound
Of every inbreath and outbreath I take.

The Earth my mother caresses my feet,
And holds my head pointed
Straight to you in the heavens.
The sun shines even behind clouds,
And the moon casts a heavenly light
Over Earth as I sleep.


Like the catterpillar I gratify only my earthly needs
And forget my  highest aspirations.
I even forget that within me
Lies the promise of the beautiful butterfly I am.
It is only when I begin to love the catterpillar within
Will I soar to my highest potential

Great wings, had she
for flying, said they
as they watched her wither away

but stuck was she,
in the dark chrysalis, and they
watched her get worse every day

great butterflies, were they
while a mere catterpillar was she
and on the ground, for a long time she did lay

while their wings, they did spread,
and on, they did move
for which a great price, she did pay

because emerge and fly, did she
too long after they
had all gone and flew far away.

We sit on a rock,
overlooking someone's fields
and pretend we are somewhere far
not just a few blocks away from home
It's Cinderella-like the way it happens.
The lush reeds turn to palm trees
fertile farmlands into sandy beaches
A sad attempt to accomodate our imagination.

I know we have always been too big for this country,
but right now it reeks of desperation.

So we look to the skies for validation
but in the dam we find motivation
from the water that flows without a destination.

"Does it hope to become  river?", we wonder.
If it hopes to grow from it's  current state.
Like a butterfly from a catterpillar.
Is it's movement a show of faith?
That the reeds and plants will open
and clear a path  for it's murky waters.
This is why the dam feels like home:

Though we can't see our reflections,
the dam is able to reflect our ambition
to succeed regardless of our location.

“Alice, Alice,
Where are you?”
I’m dizzy, I’m dizzy,
Stuck in a cloud of blue.

My vision is blurred,
My mind is scattered,
Where’s the White Rabbit?
Where’s the Mad Hatter?

The Queen of Hearts,
Should’ve yelled by now,
“Chop off her head!”
Or make me bow.

I’m so confused,
And lost in this land,
Where is my dream?
Where is Wonderland?

Where is Twiddle-Dee?
Where is Twiddle-Dum?
Where’s the Blue Catterpillar,
Getting drunk on ***?

The Cheshire Cat,
Must appear soon,
I can’t be left alone,
This can’t be my doom.

I can’t feel my feet,
I can’t feel my hands,
I don’t know where I am,
Where is Wonderland?

i ate
my weight
ten times over ten

all green leaves.

now i encase
my fat body's face
in chrysalis
and
become, soupy,
torturous bliss
awaiting wing-ed
grace.

i awake
and crack the
membrane
crawl dishrag damp
out into summer's
kind light
and slowly
spread my wings.

please,
do not think
me vain.

but as i await
my wings to dry
and the glorious dust
to set.
i wonder at the ironic beauty,
that i, the fat catterpillar,
has become,so fine
and delicate,
an exquisite pallete upon
the canvas sky....

i take flight and find
freedom....
is a state mind
that flits upon the wind
and knows,
dfrom the beginning
             beauty is always
                            from within.

Its a flower in bloom
A baby growimg in womb
A catterpillar in a cocoon
Always ever growing for you.
This summer will be special
All because i fell
Back in love with you.
The ceremomy will be grand,
And as i take your hand,
And i say my vows,
Ill fall in love again

There is a tattoo
Of a timid blue catterpillar
Curled around a crescent Moon
Slow strokes done to perfection
Astonishing fingers prayed over it

And one day amidst the
Bronze storm and Foggy dreams
Slowly she could see
Two ice blue wings embracing
The waning Moon

I guess..its never the end,
The end is the start of the new beginning
The beginnings wait for the ends to come.
Even if you slept tired and hopeless last night...
Today the break of dawn
will mark a new energy and hope for you.
The end of a catterpillar is...
beginning of the life of a beautiful butterfly.
The methods change as ideas wheel around minds
But the basic principle never ends.
So...I guess it's all connected!
We all are growing and meet thousands of people
But...very few stay...
If it all ends up with someone
Either you find yourself or a new person finds you...
The loosened ropes of one relation
tightens it up for another...
And this way it goes on.

MEMORY MOTEL

he burnt his draft card
she burnt her bra
they burnt their bridges

she was always Stones mannnnn
he a big Beatles fan
the only thing they argued over

took off for all that glittered
against their families' wishes
they rolled their own

the War happened
on the telly
kicks in her belly

saw the 60's through
saw through each other
divorced in '72

divorce was now
the war
the long battle

he took the boy
she took the girl
hostages to love

the kids hated
him...her
it

he runs through women
she runs through men
like its some competition

the needle gathers fluff
riding the black shellac
her life badly scratched

the needle falls
upon the floor she
don't know nothing no more

cleans her self up
kicks the habit
a health fanatic

becomes Mrs jones
....un-becomes
Mrs. Jones

now somehow here
in 2000 & 2 they
do the wife&husband thing again

they're happier this time 'round
he still a big Beatles fan
she still Stones...mannnnn!  


*

An almost iconic old couple so deeply in love they give off a tangible glow. I meet them on an old fashioned choo-choo puffing its way north to York. The train was a large catterpillar throwing a boa of smoke over its shoulder. I fell into talk with them and admired that their love must have been deep and profound to have lasted to this stage of their life...they laughed at this impression they gave and told me all about how they came about and how they came to be together so that their souls almost glowed with happiness and delight. The story they told me in deliciously thick Brooklyn accents was not the story I had expected to hear but an even better story than I could have ever possibly imagined.

MEMORY MOTEL

he burnt his draft card
she burnt her bra
they burnt their bridges

she was always Stones mannnnn
he a big Beatles fan
the only thing they argued over

took off for all that glittered
against their families' wishes
they rolled their own

the War happened
on the telly
kicks in her belly

saw the 60's through
saw through each other
divorced in '72

divorce was now
the war
the long battle

he took the boy
she took the girl
hostages to love

the kids hated
him...her
it

he runs through women
she runs through men
like its some competition

the needle gathers fluff
riding the black shellac
her life badly scratched

the needle falls
upon the floor she
don't know nothing no more

cleans her self up
kicks the habit
a health fanatic

becomes Mrs jones
....un-becomes
Mrs. Jones

now somehow here
in 2000 & 2 they
do the wife&husband thing again

they're happier this time 'round
he still a big Beatles fan
she still Stones...mannnnn!  

*

An almost iconic old couple so deeply in love they give off a tangible glow. I meet them on an old fashioned choo-choo puffing its way north to York. The train was a large catterpillar throwing a boa of smoke over its shoulder. I fell into talk with them and admired that their love must have been deep and profound to have lasted to this stage of their life...they laughed at this impression they gave and told me all about how they came about and how they came to be together so that their souls almost glowed with happiness and delight. The story they told me in deliciously thick Brooklyn accents was not the story I had expected to hear but an even better story than I could have ever possibly imagined.