Sunday, August 24, 2014

236/365 : what does a dead end look like in your mind?

i imagine a brain
gray or pink
wet and inexplicably wonderful
crevices like windowsills
in a building that's all curled up
these pathways
that say, stay here
don't dismantle 
don't untangle
my place 
in this mess
this meaningful 
i like where i belong
even if it got suddenly dark
suddenly stopped in the forrest of
thick bushes and over grown trees and out of control weeds
don't make me take the machete
to the way i am
don't make me carve a new plan
there is a flickering
locket in the
of my fantasy
and inside it a picture
of who i want to be
spins and turns
pulls that stubborn
crab, curled up
in that hard shell magic
pulls it
into the sea

Saturday, August 23, 2014

235/365 : no such thing

every little thing
on my tiny little list
feels impossible

my belly has
a thousand pound weight
magnetizing it to the mattress

there's no such thing
as a double negative

Friday, August 22, 2014

234/365 : my one wish

once upon a time
my one wish
was a window--
white walls
white curtains
white comforter


Wednesday, August 20, 2014

232/365 : today is not powering through

today is feminine folk doodling tunes into a bright blue sky
today is bare feet, belly sweet, exposed skin that smells of summer
today is not difficult
today is not an assignment
today is not powering through to tomorrow
to prove the truth of what's impossible to erase

Tuesday, August 19, 2014

231/365 : i need to scream

i need to scream
so much more than i scream

i need to hiss and wish violently
and cry-howl-hit

all of this thumping
still goes

Monday, August 18, 2014

230/365 : Naked gazing with naked

We were naked gazing with naked
Flesh, bare
Breath marks 

We were curling lips kiss kissing
Knowing nothing 
Needs to be known 

We were love, on a revolution
High and deep
Riding dawn

Sunday, August 17, 2014

229/365 : call girl freak

i'm sure i seem like some sort of call girl freak
some flavor of taboo sweet
some scent of messy mixed with neat
something complex as 10 far out galaxies
you could get me, if you really studied
but at first glance, i look a little muddy
dating men twice my age
dating girls not yet unfurled
dating no one, no one, no one
dating myself outside of time
dating these poems line by line
with shamelessness
with sugar lips
with raw meat
with dirty feet
with vulgar light
with loving fight
to exist
the collar
of fear

Saturday, August 16, 2014

228/365 : babies

i remember the first time having sex with a man translated into
i want our DNA to get so wet and messy with each other
that the miracle of chemistry and anatomy 
makes a little baby
in my little belly.

that was exciting.
and also a bit nerve wrecking.
and definitely a few heaps of crazy-making.
mostly because the dude that this happened with lived in a van and couldn't stand more than
1 month of kissing before he just went to fucking
and explained it as a problem that i wasn't supposed to feel bad about.

Friday, August 15, 2014

227/65 : i don't understand the rules

wrong wrong wrong
i meant for you to sing your hellos and
dance your maybes and
lick your goodbyes like a dog
that someone fed beer
stumbling with fearless foolishness
slimy slimy love

i wear my truth like dishonest cleavage
you will not get access in
except isn't that the point of cleavage?
to show you what you cannot have?
to lie about what's likely?

i'm typing with my left hand
trying to say something more honest
or at least more unsaid

like i wish i could play with magic
without all these headaches
like i wish playing felt more
quiet and restful

now i just want to go back home
to the right hand
to the left mind
to the dad who tells me
to do it his way
because my way
is too complex

now i just want someone to write my paper for me
turn my life in to god
wait for the grade

no no
that's not really the way it is
but this
this is so much harder than i was expecting

the right challenge, though
are any challenges right?

back to this side
my mind feels like jello here
hello dear
hello dear
fear wears a rabbit hat and holds a tiny paw
fear tells us all there's no way you'll escape this knot
fear ties our blood til it clots
fear rots
rots rots

tell me where wrong went
after he stayed out past his bedtime
tell me what nightmares right had
tell me who was more sad
and who was more sorry

so many stories
so little flesh to hold them

maybe that's why we just instruct breathing
something thin
and hallow
but warm like fingertips
brushing lips
tender kiss
i miss i miss my mother

Thursday, August 14, 2014

226/365 : this is a declaration of spaciousness

this is a declaration of spaciousness:
the wind blowing a true-love kiss
your hair tumbling across your lips
eyes locked in, eternal temptresses

each leaf spinning sideways
each branch back-bending, wild
each breath spilling into this
lung cave portal
this clear glass vessel
this clean hose temple
this i don't know
i don't know

Wednesday, August 13, 2014

225/365 : the love

jodi drove off this morning.
my floor is covered in dust, matches and chapstick.
the tents are drying in the driveway.
the invitations are flying in like paper airplanes.
my name has changed.
my heart has softened.
so many hands, thumbs, palms, pressing into the heat of my center--
smiling, quiet presence, reminding me
to remember
the love.

Tuesday, August 12, 2014

224/365 : the edge

lest i not forget
that my center
is stronger
more serene
with wild wonder
securely stable
in buzzing flavors
of yum and yes
and let's let's let's
when i tip toe
the edge
when i tumble
past the flesh
of what's suitable
for the masses
when i feel myself
by the thrill
of a new frontier
hear, hear
i belong
on the edge

Monday, August 11, 2014

223/365 : empty portal

empty portal
flesh and bones
no one knows
no one knows

heat and lightening
from the toes
no one knows
no one knows

the words
the words
the words
for this

the oil lamp
the flashing light
the humming hunger
the quiet fright

i know the answer
i know the dark night
i know the hallow
i know the empty light

Sunday, August 10, 2014

222/365 : when you go to the temple to pray

when you go to the temple to pray
do not bring your Sunday best--
the eternal flame
asks nothing of clothing

when you go to the temple to pray
take off all your jewelry
let down your hair
pull off your boots one thrust at a time

your socks, let them fling from your fingers
into the pile of your jacket
your sweater, your scarf, your bra
slither out of your undergarments
stand in the middle of the dust storm
looking up at the light, alone

let your body's round curves
be your devotion
nothing half-hearted
nothing in hiding

stand wordless and warmed
only by the fire of love
as your fingers, frigid and frail
come close to your heart's center

let your prayer be a silent naked surrender
let your eyes gaze steady upward
toward the center
here, here

Saturday, August 9, 2014

Friday, August 8, 2014

220/365 : Trouble and Trust

Trouble is
calling the outcome final
half way though
the game

Trouble is
as if the game
actually ends

Trust is
slivered moon grins,
breathing in millenniums,
watching the ducks glide and gallop 

Thursday, August 7, 2014

219/365 : my mama misses me

the North East misses me like
a quota--
a ratio of soul

my mother, though
misses me like
her own

Wednesday, August 6, 2014

218/365 : breath-fume, soft tunes

it's me and you, bedroom
soft tunes

one old skirt
tattered shirt

splattering wax one
candle at a time

burning through
to rapture

Tuesday, August 5, 2014

217/365 : the miracle of rising

How ridiculous--
I have been mad at myself
as if mad at a
for not reaching
noon-day power soon enough.
I am missing the miracle
of rising.

Monday, August 4, 2014

216/365 : like tunnels

relationships end

like tunnels

after a long time coming

a whole world of light

gets bigger and bigger

than fear

Sunday, August 3, 2014

215/365 : a sad flame

does a sad flame
burn blue?

hush me something

honest and revelatory--
blow out my lies

cover me in
honest goosebumps

wet tears
a whole face-full

of innocent

Saturday, August 2, 2014

214/365 : the secret and the sacred

"The secret and the sacred are sisters",
wrote John O'Donohue

The soul is not meant
for a neon light of examination

Go into the darkness
With a bushel of sage
and a match

Let the scent of healing
be stronger
than the sound

Friday, August 1, 2014

213/365 : the immortal love

tell the truth, dear
the whole holy truth

this love
does not make you
feel immortal

and maybe that's okay