Loss

I’ve been thinking about loss, lately.

 

How forcibly it comes and takes away–

so difficult it is to let go.

 

People are my backbone

and thoughts of being uncomfortable around them

simply verifies this fact.

 

Yet I know my life,

life,

is full

and there are no “buts.”

 

I will let go;

I’ve already started.

 

August 21, 2015

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Something Real

Compliments

of division

my life story

mingles in threads

of Catholicism

and the like

and I must stop myself

from pulling them loose.

Fighting anything

will never result

in absolution

I do not want to dismantle

the quilt;

I just want to prove

that it is nothing more

than patchwork.

Positive energy

can be difficult to gather

when your tribe has only consisted

of society and people living on the line

of nothing more than muddled minds–

it’s a connection that never lasts.

Instead of fabrication

I seek connection to nature’s past,

present and future,

the fact that the present

is the only reality that can turn us inwards

face us homewards

we are all connected by something greater:

Being, love– they live inside of us.

Religion crumples before it,

nationalities will laugh,

countries torn by economic mishap

and strife will fall to their knees

when we realize that the external fight

will never result in internal freedom.

I do not want to destroy a notion;

I just want to shine light on the beauty

of something real.

August 23, 2015

Built from Buddha

“To understand

everything

is to forgive everything.”

To not judge anything…

it leads you

to a path of wisdom

where forgiveness

is your un-partial view,

where gratefulness is the one

full pot of love

sitting at the end

of your rainbow.

Cliched or not–

it’s true

be an observer

of your life,

not a critic,

not a competitor

be a gentle lover.

   The battle has already been won                                                                   when there is no one left to fight.

August 21, 2015

Darkness

My friend once said,
“The scariest thing
is looking at a mirror in the dark.”

She got me thinking–
do I think that is scary?

Do you?

I glance down a narrow hallway,
midnight light etching out
the shadow of a moon
on the back wall,
and wonder why,
so often,
our reflections scare us so.

Sitting down with a friend,
I can hold her hand,
touch her cheek,
knowing that in one moment
I can offer my ear
and know
that it is enough.

Why can I not offer my heart
the same love?

Darkness is an inevitable partner,
disguised in dirt and anguish
it is only off looking for it’s long lost brother;
Light cannot be asked to search alone.

As I walk towards the moon,
I know that it’s light will spread in both directions:
inwards, returning love to itself,
and outwards,
steadily marking my way
towards the hallway mirror.

 

Tomorrow I will be starting a weekend-long “technology cleanse,” so instead of a poem per Saturday and Sunday, here is just one, now.

August 13, 2015

The Same

I am everything;

I am nothing.

 

You are everything;

You are nothing.

 

So often we forget

you and I are the same.

 

Let the world

open it’s front door,

back porch, wind blown hair

and feel the essence

of Being.

 

Let it be known

that all associations

and ideas

are nothing more

than stepping stones

to our real life,

made of stillness,

peace and love–

together.

 

August 8, 2015

 

Surrender

When I was younger
my doubt came in the form of a size 4
black and white
soccer ball
“Can I win,
can I beat the player
these coaches have formed inside of my head?”
I wrote
and I wrote
and finally I forgave

I created a new reality of real-life-results
and they stuck.

Today I read words that reminded me of that time
“Everything is to be nurtured,”
and I cannot think literally about this.

We must think clearly,
sharply,
simply
about what the nurtured soul is to begin with.

Asking myself,
“How do I feel?”
Without judgement,
without delay
is most likely the most important question
I will have asked myself in four years
the last time I stepped on the field
that I believed scarred me

It had given me strength.

Beauty is to be nurtured
Simplicity is to be nurtured
Love is to be nurtured.

For buried under all that nasty doubt,
my final enemy,
is a white flag
I know as freedom.

Stories

They
flow out our mouths
fill up our memories
fill ourselves

And yet our
selves
are not what stories
should inhabit.

Our identity
is not what has happened to us,
what is happening,
what will happen–

it is,
simply,
what is.

Your identity
is not your life story;
it is your life.

The fact
that you are alive
in this simple world
of overindulged stories
deluding our minds
with fictional realities

when the treasure,
all along,
has been sunken
in your own
skin.

 

August 1, 2015