Some say that loneliness is the human condition. When I search my gut, and push past the insecurity that feeds a lonely state of
being, I find solace in my own company, knowing that in this crazy beautiful
world, I only have myself and my heart and my soul and my body to take care
of. I know how to ground
myself, pull on my inner strength and the heartbeat of mother earth and find
company in my own thoughts.
Perhaps it stems from being an only child and spending hours in my head,
tucked away from the world.
These existential truths of life and loneliness (ie- "In the
end, we die alone"), highlight the gap between our ability to be ourselves in
connection with other people. In
this unpredictable and highly chaotic world, we search to make meaning and
create structure with arbitrary rules for life and love and human behavior. What is to stop my next lover from
falling in love with someone else?
Nothing. Not a god damn
thing. So how do you find trust
and meaning in such a tenuous, temporary relationship? If marriage doesn’t stop hearts from
wandering, what will? Do we merely
wait in anticipation for the end of everything? Or do we swallow our fear and dive in? Let's go swimming.
I have also decided to stop using the word "happy" or "happiness." Instead, I want to focus my efforts on cultivating a state of being content. Happiness implies chasing an elusive high flying butterfly as it flitters beyond my searching fingertips; it implies slamming on the breaks when starting to sense the spiral downward into feelings of sadness. However, the state of being content is rooted in being grounded in the middle path. It means being open to the firefly flicker of joy in the night and being open to the washing waves of sadness. But not searching for either or running away from either.
-Horizon Gazing-
Everything has an end.
Life ends and love ends and it hurts.
That end may come tomorrow
Or a month from now
Or a year from now
Or a hundred years from now.
And when it comes, it hurts.
But when we cast our eyes,
Forever on the horizon,
Anticipating, guessing,
When it will end and how it will end,
We forget to live in the love
And beauty that is present now.
We are blinded to the hand that pours water which quenches our thirst.
We ignore the warm arms holding us.
And we become sad, tired, thirsty horizon-gazers.
Embrace the end.
Welcome it in,
Make its company
And treat it with kindness.
Then, and only then,
Are you able to let go,
And live liberated and happy,
Aware and present in the beauty of your life,
And in the beauty and love that others bring,
Wanting to share with you.
-Bumble-
What started off as any orgy,
I came to realize,
Was a funeral.
Five bumblebees hovering
Stirring up tiny particles of sediment
With the frantic beating of their wings.
The sparrows swoop in
Eager to gobble up the kill.
My silent protestations
Go out to the little creature
Struggling to get off the ground.
-Moved-
I've written a million words about you,
And have planted thousands of kisses on your shoulders and your lips.
You hold gravity in my world.
We've gone from swimming naked in rivers to slipping under covers,
Shivering and wet, alive and excited and magnetic,
Warm and melted and comfortable.
Your strong arms encircle my waist and ground me in the night.
We talk as lovers in our sleep,
Guarded by the starts outside your window,
Who keep watch over us and laugh at our folly.
I gaze in awe as the moon reflects in your eyes,
Bounces off your eyelashes,
And tickles my cheek,
As we go on our 4 am adventures for cigarettes.
Your words capture the pulse of our messed up human existence,
And I find home in curling up inside them,
As you read to me.
You've known too much pain and sadness.
But you arrive every day, undefeated.
I want to hold a mirror up to your own strength and resiliency.
You move me.
-Peach-
-Moved-
I've written a million words about you,
And have planted thousands of kisses on your shoulders and your lips.
You hold gravity in my world.
We've gone from swimming naked in rivers to slipping under covers,
Shivering and wet, alive and excited and magnetic,
Warm and melted and comfortable.
Your strong arms encircle my waist and ground me in the night.
We talk as lovers in our sleep,
Guarded by the starts outside your window,
Who keep watch over us and laugh at our folly.
I gaze in awe as the moon reflects in your eyes,
Bounces off your eyelashes,
And tickles my cheek,
As we go on our 4 am adventures for cigarettes.
Your words capture the pulse of our messed up human existence,
And I find home in curling up inside them,
As you read to me.
You've known too much pain and sadness.
But you arrive every day, undefeated.
I want to hold a mirror up to your own strength and resiliency.
You move me.
-Peach-
Soft pink palms hold pebbles that fall through fingers
Girls with black-rimmed glasses sashay down wet sidewalks
Boys turn their heads, look with sly abandon
Wanting to taste the peach but not slip the pit in their pockets
-Worcester-
Boys turn their heads, look with sly abandon
Wanting to taste the peach but not slip the pit in their pockets
-Worcester-
There are no children here
Because no child sees his mom shooting up
And stays a child.
Gray city, grit and sand,
And dry wrinkles.
Wash the blood from your mouth
Spit last night's lights on the corner
And crunch beer cans on old sidewalks.
The cold banging of pots
Cracked yelling from the woman in the apartment below us.
Runaway son; Us, shrugging our shoulders.
Hollow eyes and scars that mirror the hot radiator
That he was held against.
I wield no light here.
The grime dulls pallid skin and we pace these walls.
-Patience-
Ladybug
Crawling on your sleeve
I turn to you and say, “It’s God.”
Sitting in the basement
Surrounded by a warm circle
Of desperate people
Grateful for sobriety
You place her back on the chair in front of you
But that persistent little creature
Flies back into your lap
Over and over
Patiently waiting
For your resignation and acceptance
-Northampton-
I find my customary spot
In the boarded up window
Behind the Haymarket.
Cross legs, dangle cigarette,
Smile at musicians.
I walked across your back to get here
Under mating dances of bumblebees
Leaves that uncurl
As mothers' hands open to accept
Tiny fingers that entwine
Big blue skies
Beauty too pure to maim
-Starbucks-
I want to kill the barrista
Fire engine red string hair
Brown doe eyes
Sticky laugh
Mouth spewing charisma vomit
As she flirts with the delivery guy.
An old man stares at me skeptically
Mind your own business gramps.
Have you never seen a poet at work before?
A girl strung out on caffeine,
Whose brain is wading through haze from last night?
A girl who fears her own shadow?
Black hair hunched over pen and paper in the corner?
Two old ladies bicker over the bathroom.
“I’d rather see you go there because you know where it is.”
I have coffee with my lover’s grandfather,
His crooked, mysterious smile stares at me from way up there
on the wall.
-Wake You Up-
Face slap bedtime
Wake you up
Sleepless nights and shaking dreams
"I'm stealing your cigarettes."
And I lost my underwear
Somewhere between the moon and the sun.
If you see it floating in outer space,
Don't tell the next girl
That you peeled it off me
After we sang the night away.
-Reflector-
I am the light-shiner.
My costume
is made of broken mirrors.
Men come to
me in disrepair,
Not sure of
their substance,
Adrift and
insecure.
I hold up my
mirrors
And reflect
into their potential,
Show the
world their character
And kindle
the glow that dances behind their eyes,
Until they
stand in their shoes,
Gaze onto
the horizon,
And declare
themselves free.
Some give a
nod, and some a, “thank you,”
As they walk
ahead, steady and sure.
I am the
light-shiner.
My costume
is made of broken mirrors.
I am left to
my solitary delusions as day sinks away,
Siphoning
milk from the moon,
Waiting for
the next broken shadow
To cross my
path
And fall in
love
With his
reflection in my mirrors
And leave
renewed.
-Musician's Ears-
Neighbor’s wind chimes tuned to minor keys
Morning birdcalls bounce around modes
The F sharp hum of stressed light poles
Taut with anxiety
As they cast glowing circles of assumed safety
Rain that resonates a floor tom timbre
Cymbal crash puddle splash of speeding tires
A hollow rush of air
That fills lungs
Of those about to slip into dreamland jungles
Or push piercing notes through trumpets
Or pucker in anticipation of touching lips
Or say last words to the dying saint wrapped in gauze
As he sinks under morphine waters
-Promise-
Promise
springs eternal.
Green buds
push through cracked soil
Sitting in
quiet observance of the shoes
That pass by
on the gray sidewalks
Wanting to
cry out in their glory,
Have the
stranger acknowledge their triumph.
Do you know
what it took to get me here?
My mother
lay down her seed
In the fits
of fall
And I stayed
in the frozen ground,
Surrounded
by darkness,
Aching for
the direct rays of warmth
To graze my
cheeks.
I gathered
my reserves,
Listened to
the whispers of the melting snow
As it fed my
thirst.
I made
friends with earthworms
And the
creatures that call this place home.
They all
told me of this day,
The day of
my blooming,
Where I
would push through the black
Out into
this formidable world
To exist
And bring
beauty.
Do you see
me here?
I’m waiting.
Promise springs eternal.
