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Archive for December, 2010

SyZyGy

is the name of the braid.

 

 

you took me down the river

we rode bumps and waves

and stucked in eddies.

some thorns tucked at my breastbone.

 

Wwon’t forget the day I mourned the world,

spitting sour next to your bod-ease,

rocking out the pain of slave fates.

 

we had an earthquake.

 

you brought me down unto some softness,

moved I under yellow lights in a room with sparse and falling ceiling –

held my hair behind a hidden halo –

and washed I face with warmest hands.

 

I recognize

your name’s like John.

 

 

and want repent

for the glory of that sacrament.

 

 

We have a Duty (responsible)

to overcome our weaknesses. Always,

always,

moving towards balance.

 

feels like e’ry time I weak i dishonor your love.

 

maintaining structural integrity

of all

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Darling Sophia

 

Philo-Sophia:

literally the Love of Wisdom.

Philosopher Kings: Rulers who love Wisdom, as mentioned in Plato’s “Republic.”

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Ghent Altarpiece

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Self-Sacrifice

might be the missing peace.

save for balance

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Gather up your Skirts

My blankets and these herbs are lovers now.

These blank walls like arms,

holding me in from the kicked-up pollution of freeze outside. its crystalline density scraping its force on our windows.

 

I’ve got a coat to do the job. But the goal is melding with the snow so as to remain immune to it.

 

This honey tea (and these sugar coffee)’s become my food now. My body readjusting

to the loss of yours. Solids come not easy

save for the assistance and massage of green.           (anything to turn to smoke)

O, to be in a blank room with sheets on the floor and forgetting sleep and food by the fullness of your earthen nourishment.              The pain of this is bloody

and the blood is colored black.

 

I must believe that I’m okay

to move forward.

All of these nagging doubts and disturbances –

I must be made to feel special.

If I don’t believe I am special, I will be lost. And worlds of other mentalness are imminent

since so much perpetuated confusion.       There is no question. at this moment and so many,

i am crazy.

that needs to be okay

if it’s not okay, i won’t survive.

 

and We cannot have the flickering loss of another Light n thss wrld.

my light is needed. It’s heady. Necessary

 

the things I give birth to are positive

I wake up in the morning breathing purpose and defeat

and the comingling wound

of weakness.

This is Being Human.

being human is hanging on to God.

speaking God. and accepting when God cannot speak through me

 

the spiral

moving towards more sensitivity and subtlety.

bl’ss

joi

 

 

Now that I know not what to trust

i’m off to look for truth.

And knowing the planes I know. And giving credence where I see it due. And healthy doubt.

Sometimes I fear my need for love will destroy me

and it can

and maybe that’s okay.

There is Nothing

Id’ rather be destroyed by.

But Love.

Love.  Whatever that means and whichever form it takes.

It’s not fake love if my friends don’t pick up the phone when I call at 4am needing a place to stay. It’s the product of different realities and the fact that a lot of people in this world could not even conceive of what it’s like to be in these kinds of need.

I’ll take the love they do give. And I’ll love them back. And I’ll let that be enough

because I still don’t get how to transcend physical limitation and the only answer I can see is Acceptance.

 

I only want my life to be small and holy

and honest and transformative

and real. (and huge as a result of these combinations)

 

I want to do small things that are BIG.

giving the last piece of bread away and feeling just as fed, as if I’d eaten it myself.

 

 

One thing I recognize

is the havoc money’s wrought on my family

and the divisiveness of material wealth.

How feeling so cold in my house

brings me closer to people, to life, to love,

through understanding lack.

 

we keep the heat down for a reason

and i hope remembrance of this cold

will help me give my last dollars away.

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hide an seek

can you see me yet                                  /?

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shttrd

you elevated me above the game

and i want you to be the one to reap those benefits. (as in, all the space inside my ribcage. the ripplng light and currents of X)

but you have to let me

 

I am your Queen

but you have to believe it

 

i cant stand up to the doubt.

 

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Province

Suddenly, all your history’s ablaze
Try to breathe, as the world disintegrates
Just like autumn leaves, we’re in for change
Holding tenderly to what remains
And all your memories, are as precious as gold
And all the honey, and the fire which you’ve stole
Have you running through all your red-cheeked days
Shaking loose these souls, from their sacred hiding space

Hold your heart courageously
As we walk into this dark place
Stand steadfast erect and see
That love is the province of the brave

Pushed under this expanse of bursting stars
Let this burning brightly illuminate the where we are
In this hollow that lovers’ voices occupy
Let it follow that we let it free, let it fly

Breaking open the walls of this cage
Intoxicated, Oh so amazed
Much like falcons tumbling from the heights at play
Conjoined, talons engaged

Hold these hearts courageously
As we walk into this dark place
Stand steadfast beside me and see
That Love is the province of the brave

 

– TV on the Radio

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Jostling.

My Mistakes

linger on my back as moles,

black and dormant. Changing shape.

coming up in nights

sprouting legs

little ant-mongers on tiny spindle toes

sending poison out the bottoms and piercing good clean skin.

My back is itchy

with these little feet.

poisons of misfaith and division,

“individuality”

stinging like nettles in a quiet traverse

invisible insects of disappointment

leaving trace scars between my shoulder blades.

Wond’ring why the shiver of my clavicle?

because these invisible poisons

making waves against its opposite.

the pain electricity of imbalance.

i swear its not all me

i swear that i can’t see

and that it’s killing any chance you’d have at wellness.

baby demons sinking into dimples

laying eggs is crevices of worry:

the wrinkles i gain from misunderstanding.

The tight folds of constriction.

I think

that nothing can be saved

without some form of acceptance.

because two constrictions will never coalesce –

only coil so tightly they break one another.

i am sorry for all the times i couldn’t fall open

because i swear

the only want in the world

is mine for your love.

and all these empty days stretch before me like cold hands

a laying path of desolation:

the repeating, seeping reminder

that i’ll never have you.

my failings.

my aching, oozing harms.

 

 

i didn’t understand

’cause i couldn’t step outside my body.

so developing these muscles,

the sensitivities,

the know, ( tiny movements ! )

because the only way we can unite anything in this world

is by sacrificing our own condition and experience

for the want of knowing n feeling another’s.

shaking off these shackles [controlling emotion] and traveling beyond limits of skin.

bones aren’ts malleable

but tissue is.      Like all,

becoming subtler moving upwards. The want is becoming nothing

but rather collapsing

into energy

through Love.

 

 

i’m so sorry

for when i couldn’t stand (over, under, with.)

and more

for when i didn’t let myself collapse.

 

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