Trees

My back

is strong

like a piece of bark

it has its edges

but it is stable,

it stands tall–

it is stillness

and silence

and me.

 

These elements

of control

have never been

my friend.

 

Illusive fears

of loosing

a self

that I had forged

by lack of force

the word loss–

I could write odes

to loss

and sonnets

to loss

and haikus

to loss

and I would still

remained

lost

in the same sentiment

 

Who am I?

 

Where do these attachments

leave me?

Where did I acquire them?

 

Did death bring up something

deep inside of me

that always needed healing?

 

An unknowingness of stability,

the entrance of doubt?

 

I am here, writing,

wondering,

thinking back to trees with hearts

written in their sides.

 

October 8, 2016

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I, You, and Me

“There’s no need

to play with my heart.”

I never realized

just how badly

you hurt me

But the beauty

is that it is not “me”

that you hurt.

I am human,

a continuous self

not stagnant,

sitting on a shelf

I have learned

and I have moved

away

from the erroneous notion

that “I”

is a real term–

we are all connected

please show me

in the times my past

comes creeping up into my chest

that the pain is worth

the sunshine I still see

outside my window,

the candles lighting my table

they sit

honestly,

knowingly,

unquestioning

of past boyfriends and best friends

who seemed to know what was best for me

when I was a “me” without a voice

Now,

I am heard

we all have something to say–

first to ourselves

the memories will still glitter

like gold

as I crumple up the ugly

into ashes,

for my soul has always been clean

You were 

always hurting,

for you were

are

human, too,

on the brink of an island

of our childhoods,

our teenage, innocence-tacked

to-naivety

years

have gone by

and I feel like the only thing left

to do

is to not to forgive and forget,

but to forgive…

And then hurry on back

to my “me,”

our “us,”

now.

..

inspired in part by the music of Noah and the Whale 

.

April 5, 2015

Losing a Friend

There was never

A more beautiful place

To lose a friend.

 

The tide pulls and pushes

My heart strings back

And forth,

Reminding me of the times

I could laugh at her smile

And run down a white line

Screaming, “Follow!”

 

There’s never a good time

To lose a friend.

 

They can be sitting right next to you

On a colored blanket,

Sullen,

Feeling three thousand miles away

 

And still moving.

 

There was love here,

A no judge, no hate

Type of love that was, perhaps,

An invisible mist–

Like Malibu air singing to the waves,

The ocean breathing back.

 

It’s a love that defends itself

Against heartbreak

Until it questions its existence

To begin with.

 

It all started here…

On an ocean cliff where I knew

That I was falling

So she caught me, with that special

Kind of I-understand-how-you’re

Flowing-

Needing-only-a-minute-in-the-car

Windows-open-singshouting-a-song

Moment to know

That we would be connected

For a long while.

 

Even a long while ends–

Like the water reaching my rock

It knows when to steer back

It is only natural.

 

Then why do my thoughts

Leave a suppressed sigh knowing

That she could have done more,

Knowing that she could be more

Knowing that I still love our past,

 

But that I cannot see a future

 

Full of bitchy side comments

And over-indulged spending;

She can buy whatever she wants

But she most certainly can’t buy

My heart

 

It’s flying free,

A journey in mind

That this pain could break if it had bones–

Right now there’s only water

 

Drifting me back to now,

To me,

To friends that support the highs

And lows of my shore,

A cascade moon pulling

The water inwards,

 

Promising a new tomorrow.

 

April 1, 2015

while reading Buddha

you

must go straight

to the punchline:

is there a problem

to solve to begin with?

Search your mind

for causation,

 organization

you’ll often be left

dumfounded

“I solved that problem

four years ago.”

Okay–

so now we’re here

now time for a quote

about, “thinking too hard

will only hurt your head,”

Buddha was right.

If you’re problem free,

my friend,

continue to float away

in your simplistic, real-life

vision of the moment…

it’s the only honest version

of now.

March 9, 2015

Too

“You’re independent,”

my crush told me,

my date for the evening.

“You’re a free spirit,”

my friend told me,

pushing up his glasses

with a touch of a finger.

I do not “love” either

of them, but I did love

the words they saw in me

between my collar bones

and within my eyes,

not past my shoulder

and out the door.

I would marry a man

that told me this–

tells me this four years later.

He would look at me,

straight into my soul

and say, “You can make it

on your own–

but I want to be there, too.”

 

June 6, 2014