High heels tonight.
Lady.
oh. Lady.
A door opens,
a smile.
Oh what a lady.
Dreams.
A smile.
From the heart.
Lady.
Oh. Lady.
Seeing the
heart.
The heart seen.
In a dream.
Lady.
In high heels.
In a dream.
A smile.
A heart seen.
Lady. Dream.
Tuesday, July 5, 2011
Friday, May 27, 2011
Blossoming
Oh. Beauty, I see
in the blossoming.
The growth I witness
and may proclaim to
be a miracle.
We, also, birth.
And know the nature
of pain.
With every beauty.
Wednesday, May 11, 2011
For those who see
For those who see,
and no longer blinded.
A cry for honesty.
Ridicule is certain.
Cognitive dissonance,
drop the curtain.
Feeling pain, along
the battle of right
and wrong.
Pleasure only comes
with hymns from
the soul drum.
Together entwined.
Sides of the sword:
dualities combined.
Trust wings given.
In the passion
keeping one driven.
and no longer blinded.
A cry for honesty.
Ridicule is certain.
Cognitive dissonance,
drop the curtain.
Feeling pain, along
the battle of right
and wrong.
Pleasure only comes
with hymns from
the soul drum.
Together entwined.
Sides of the sword:
dualities combined.
Trust wings given.
In the passion
keeping one driven.
Labels:
cognitive dissonance,
dualities,
indigo journey center,
poetry
Sunday, April 17, 2011
It's Me
Resist it,
as needed.
Remember
once pleaded,
a time of acceptance
a time for knowing.
A part of therapy,
a part of war,
a part of heart belongs
to accepting the core.
Not all
needs a fix,
grow instead
into bliss,
beneath the layers.
Know for you.
Go forth into
all that is true.
The essence
is loved as
much as you
...allow it.
Breathe it.
Remember it.
as needed.
Remember
once pleaded,
a time of acceptance
a time for knowing.
A part of therapy,
a part of war,
a part of heart belongs
to accepting the core.
Not all
needs a fix,
grow instead
into bliss,
beneath the layers.
Know for you.
Go forth into
all that is true.
The essence
is loved as
much as you
...allow it.
Breathe it.
Remember it.
Saturday, April 9, 2011
Spring Welcome
a baby bee.
suckling.
upon the spring
nectar
of barely a bud.
both growing.
each day
of fresh warmth.
transforms
rain and sun.
suckling.
upon the spring
nectar
of barely a bud.
both growing.
each day
of fresh warmth.
transforms
rain and sun.
Tuesday, April 5, 2011
A Broken Promise
I even paid
for extras.
To come back
again.
To be here,
to make it
on time.
Deal with
anxiety and
finally arrive.
Then find the
menu changed.
for extras.
To come back
again.
To be here,
to make it
on time.
Deal with
anxiety and
finally arrive.
Then find the
menu changed.
Monday, April 4, 2011
spirals going down
Conviction
can not be had
with ambivalence
riding along.
Ambivalence
can not pass
with discouragement
so relentless.
I am in the hole;
bury me now
or perceive the
tools for digging.
can not be had
with ambivalence
riding along.
Ambivalence
can not pass
with discouragement
so relentless.
I am in the hole;
bury me now
or perceive the
tools for digging.
Labels:
ambivalence,
conviction,
discouragement,
healing,
living,
poem
Monday, March 28, 2011
Look through the confusion
Look through the confusion
Therein lies a solution
Under layers of institution
Await personal revolution
In some contortion
Without coercion
Spirit feels no corruption
Call for celebration
Therein lies a solution
Under layers of institution
Await personal revolution
In some contortion
Without coercion
Spirit feels no corruption
Call for celebration
Let me be
Let me be,
searching for the dreams,
no matter what it seems...
Free.
All then can see.
How it is to be me,
no matter what it seems,
let it be...
Free, free.
Roads for the merrily,
roads, a way to flee,
roads that hide the key
to us being free.
With no guarantees
feeling it, instinctively.
Saerching for the possiblitites.
Let me be.
Free.
It's all up to me,
my way to perceive,
my way to be.
Let us be free.
Free.
searching for the dreams,
no matter what it seems...
Free.
All then can see.
How it is to be me,
no matter what it seems,
let it be...
Free, free.
Roads for the merrily,
roads, a way to flee,
roads that hide the key
to us being free.
With no guarantees
feeling it, instinctively.
Saerching for the possiblitites.
Let me be.
Free.
It's all up to me,
my way to perceive,
my way to be.
Let us be free.
Free.
Monday, March 21, 2011
Yellow Truck
Old square truck-
from the forties perhaps.
Wearing a high-gloss,
smiley-face yellow.
Like an evening gown
in old Hollywood.
Flawlessness it wears
as its pearls.
from the forties perhaps.
Wearing a high-gloss,
smiley-face yellow.
Like an evening gown
in old Hollywood.
Flawlessness it wears
as its pearls.
Ghost of me
Me of today
is but a ghost
of the me
for tomorrow
as the ghost of me
today from before
lingers
Today the beating
of my heart
is but a memory
on the drum
If monsters are real
I know them intimately
But the angels
know me too
is but a ghost
of the me
for tomorrow
as the ghost of me
today from before
lingers
Today the beating
of my heart
is but a memory
on the drum
If monsters are real
I know them intimately
But the angels
know me too
Friday, March 18, 2011
me today...
To many I have known,
a piece is carried in heart
or a memory that lives on
These memories have
no more reality than the day
of this living does.
If you knew me
during a year of strength
or a year of weakness,
or a year of transformation.
The me you knew, the me that lives on,
in pieces of minds and
across states
that matter not
to the me that you may know today
with the wounds healing from yesterday.
a piece is carried in heart
or a memory that lives on
These memories have
no more reality than the day
of this living does.
If you knew me
during a year of strength
or a year of weakness,
or a year of transformation.
The me you knew, the me that lives on,
in pieces of minds and
across states
that matter not
to the me that you may know today
with the wounds healing from yesterday.
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