my name means peace.

how fast life moves.

like the second hand 

on your beautiful watch.

on your beautiful wrist.

watch it go... 

or look away...

either way, it moves. 

and yet, right now, how still. 

so much knowing

in stillness.

why we flail about, 

fish out of water. 

not to see,

not to hear,

not to feel,

not to know. 

the heart cries out 

to know... light the flame, 

warm the water.

though not easy, listen. 

on the other side

of this mountain and more

may not be what we cried for.

but, pray, there will be peace.

 

Muscle, A Poem.

Fist sized little bundle...

of muscle, valves.

Always busy,

not for show, though.

Resting between beats

but laying it down.

Like the sledgehammer

of a great big man

driving the spike 

into the wooden sleeper. 

Boom…boom.

Boom...boom. 

Call & Response. 

How is it 

that this tiny bundle 

of muscle, 

not actually pretty,

wouldn’t stand 

in front of a mirror

reapplying its lipstick, 

(knowing it’s worth 

is beyond the visual.

Visual pretty only touching 

the hem of bliss,

pointing at it…

but not…even…close).

How is it that this

is the center of our feeling?

Of our desires?

Of our…

Love.

Rumi said lovers 

are like two lamps.

Their light blending 

into each other, 

never separate…

never truly one.

This is as it should be. 

How can it pump

blood 60,000 miles, 

beat without a brain,

without a body 

and still manage to 

give everything in this

little world meaning.

Teeth, A Poem.

clock ticks the beat.

let. go. let. go. 

me, and this truth. 

baby bird in the canines of a cat.

you see the legs twitch,

but… hope is gone. 

alone at the dining room table,

I crouch and gnaw the bones.

why bury what you 

already left in the sun to rot?

mouth full of dirt, 

my love for you swallowed.

you forget your body rests here…

a welcome fire burns 

within every room of my soul 

and only wants to shed

it's light on you.

on the man that I honored,

that I knelt down for 

like I never have.

may as well have 

donned the black 

with a splash of white, 

I worshipped so. 

and now she swings before you, 

a fresh bird flying free.

as you crave to be.

your canines shine in her reflection.

I do not swing free.

damaged wings carefully folded,

I sit at this table

and long for teeth.

I am a Writer. I will be True.

I just finished writing my day 10 post that I will not be posting as I would like to turn it into a book.

The prompt that she gave (I didn't know that she was giving prompts, lol) was to write what you're afraid to write. Vulnerability is power. 

I entered the cave. It really needs to be a book, I think, because the subject makes me have a relationship with my laptop. I can feel my connection. It's like we're conspiring together over this topic. Sharing secrets. It becomes my best friend that I whisper to. 

It's an amazing, passionate feeling when words flow. Seeing your thoughts jump onto the screen a moment after you think them. Creating your baby. Creating a love. 

I think that I'm falling back in love with writing and it's been a long time coming. I want to commit myself to it, here and now. 

I am a writer. I will be true. I'm grateful to my angels for allowing me this gift. 

day 10, #writeyourselfalive #writeeverydamnday #justwrite #writingchallenge

as it should be.

I don't need to know

what to say

because those who support me 

will know what i mean

i don't need to be perfect

because the world understands

that i do my best

and that is good enough

i don't have to do the right thing

or strike the right pose

as the thing i am doing 

is exactly what it needs to be

the next rock appears
and i take my step
and revel in the moment that is made
pleasant...or unpleasant, equanimous

breathe. 

those who are meant to be in your life, will.

those who are meant to hear your voice, will.

those who are meant to touch your life, will.

the only thing left to do is 

go

with

the 

flow.

day 9, #writeeverydamnday #justwrite