Summer Solstice

IMG_0094

Summer is glimmering
at my front door
singing and
twirling about
purple, white, yellow, blue, orange, green
swirls of light
bare footed
callused heels
white skirts flouncing
her jet black hair
tangled with color
her skin
brown as a berry

she enters my bones                BarefootSummer
I feel them
shift
settle
sink into the sand
that spray I feel
is Ocean Salt
and still
all these years later
the scent of coconut
and Bain de Soleil
is it in my pores
the orange goop
that I spread
let glisten
on my skin
nothing
smells quite like it

she reaches her hand
open palm
her eyes are soft
blue, green, brown
seductive
her smile
pulls
and I place my hand
in hers

The Silence of Diamonds

 

IMG_1184The silence of dead is deafening.
Flaws painted after flaws.
Scenes of shadow and light,
oil liquids, shimmering echoes
in a museum hall.
The silence of true perfection.
It is the ones
who dive from rooftops
and trees
and hills
and skies
who tell the same story
over and again
hoping one day
for audience.
I have seen into the core
of those I’ve loved.
Black coal pressed into white
then clear into light.
The silence of diamonds.

 

reprinted from as simple as that

So Beautiful…

 

I was looking down at himlooking down
his hands pulled my hair away from my face
he was looking up at me
we were in his small room
the sun was bright
shining through sheer curtains
reflecting off of light walls
his strong hands
capable
his dark eyes
pulling at me
his voice
a hungry whisper
‘you’re so beautiful’ he said

I let him pull me into him

Sometimes I’ll feel
the dusting of his print
on my inner thigh
on the curve of my lower back
on my belly
I’ll taste that morsel
let it melt on my tongue
that instant
when I gave myself
to this man

I felt I was woman
but I was still girl

i was born this way

 

i was born this way
i didn’t make the choice
it just happened
it’s how i look at the world

in detail

in the blink of an eye

in the way moon slips into the ocean
silver ripples
on a black sheen

in the lovers glance
the electricity
they transmit
to each other
alone in a room
filled with other people
how can I not feel
that tingle spark
tickle up and down my spine?
how can I not remember?

i didn’t wake up one day
in second or seventh grade or even ninth
and decide

i didn’t even realize

i just knew what I felt
that i was permeable
i drink each experience
i grow full and heavy
with word

people will ask me
-what do you do?-
such a vague and familiar question

i breathe words
i exhale
onto a page

i answer
-i am a poet
i was born this way-

 

moonset

Girls And Their Rescues

I worked it out in bed, in bedrooms.

In bed with guys.

I know

now

that’s just not cool and

so they buy dogs.

Boxers or pit bull mixes.

They’ve given up

booze and boys and banging and

adopt a rescue.

It’s the thing to do.

I’m not a dog person.

I didn’t get that gene, or

the stripper gene.

Not then. So

I threw myself at guys.

Not all guys, just the ones

I shouldn’t have.

I didn’t turn it into a thing.

It was just what it was. No labels.

We liked sex back then.

It was what it was,

fucking.

Now you’re an addict.

You go to meetings, pledge abstinence and

get a rescue.

grlsndogs

 

 

Be The Field

 

drop

thirsty for a drop of
movement
a splash
onto my white
primer
a brush stroke
a swirl
a splat
a drop even

paint mesunset depth
like sky
with orange and blue and pink and green and purple and
violet and…
perspective and light and black and cloud and
depth

the sea rages on
churned red brown ocean
foams sepia
hurls herself at the sand
seaweed pulled piles
gasp and bubble

today in Texas
the hale was the size of grapefruit
ruby red splatters
fed
cracked hungry earth

Deepak Chopra says
“you are a field of all possibilities”

sea rages onfly with the birds
ride with the waves
dive with the dolphins
slurp up the brine
left on shore
let it spill over
drip down my chin
make a mess
of perfection

 

 

as I breathe in
I am the field
as I breathe out
of all possibilities

and the sky glows orange

morning meditationthis morning
during my meditation
focusing on my centering thought
          Through rest and play, I open my creative channel
focusing on my Sanskrit mantra

Om Anandham Nama
My actions are blissfully free from attachment to outcome

focusing on my breath
focusing
letting the thoughts float in and out
not serving them tea
focusing on relaxing
ignoring what she said
focusing on my breath
ignoring what I said
focusing too much
ignoring each click tick tick of my brain
tick
should I be working this hard
focusing?
my actions aren’t always blissfully free from attachment to outcome
I’m plugged in
to the outcome
I’m plugged in
to how I’m getting me there
I’m plugged in
unconscious even
someone or something or both
have more of me then I’m willing to give

I need that back
that piece of me
I’ve given away to
her
them
the giggle
gaggle
of women men groups others
that piece I’ve given away
I’d like that back please

thank you

cloud flyIt’s time to
peel myself away

I open the door
The smell of cut grass and wet earth
washes over me
I bend
into myself
I flip outside
upside-down
into the day

I grab a tree branch
trapeze myself
somersault
up
to land
cordless on the lift of cloud

I look down

No line
No note
No tone
No chord

Just my song

Bye-bye
I sing
Bye-bye
Bye-bye

Sweet crazy swirling
velvet sky stretch me humble and whole

happy cartwheel slices
I am unrestrained, unbowdlerizedand the sky glows orange
gritty open soft
pulling sweet
coursing through my own arteries capillaries veins
streams of me
flowering creative flushing flows of me
whistling energy surging gushes of me
painting the sky
purple red blue pink green

Below
I catch
in the corner of my eye
a frayed line spark

and the sky glows
orange

Just this…

 

starlit nightsweet smell of yam baking in the oven
fat orange cat by my side
sound of metal hitting metal as the drum of the drier turns
the music of an afternoon at home
the fog has rolled in
the sky is grey
the sun will shine again
tomorrow maybe
the sky will turn
the fog will leave
we’ll see stars
when we look up

this is my life
today
quiet
a day of reaching in and reaching out
of phone calls and emails
of questions and answers
of planning and presenting
of moving and being still

this is my lifevision presents
today
a soft thought
floats from the sky
catches in the perfect
black curl
at the base of my neck
a soft thought
that I retrieve and digest

 

a soft thought

a quiet simple soft thought
a soft thought
in a simple inhale

This is life
This is a life
This is my life

 

Born From Heaviness

ripple lake
A vision presents one morning.
Pebbles thrown, skipping over the water,
ripples pushing out from the shore.
I walk forward, my feet sinking into the silt.
New verses, like raindrops, are born from heaviness.
Words I’ve scribbled on napkins and used envelopes,
are the scraps I hold, as offerings.

An apparition floats at the foot of my bed.
I reach for him and watch my hand cut through time.rose petal
I plant a rose bush to remember he was here.
Soft petals float, like feathers, they rest before his alter.
I open the door.
I carry my journal to the earth.
There are days I have carved history onto the page
desperate to understand.

Moments

 

I saw the color of the earth reflecting off treeshugemoon

and sky and night.

The moon called out to me.

Sun was gone.

Day slept.

I sat wide-eyed.

My heart stopped singing.

Life is still.

It fills itself like a lung or balloon

with air or grief or joy or emptiness.

My self knew this

until the silence rose

like mist

from my chest.

I knew then

each moment mattered

until now.

 

 

 From my upcoming book, to be published soon.