on the beach

need not tremble,

for there is no place to hide

from troubles that never existed–

will never exist

 

let the wind be your thoughts,

the waves your heartbeat,

whispering Love, eternal

 

August 2, 2015

Waiting

Let it go,

let it be,

this voice that is bothering me,

your name reminding me

to slow it down.

The spaces in your head–

those crevices ain’t dead,

just waiting for a whisper

and you’re gone.

October 13, 2015

i’ve been thinking

i’ve been thinking about what it means

to feel safe, loved

i’ve been thinking about how often I think

that I’m the one in control of the answers

no one can acquire this–

full safety,

full love,

full control–

unless they start backwards

relinquish control, let go of the ammunition

let love fill you to the brim

don’t regret a drop

and that’s when you’ll remember–

you’e been safe all along,

as a child of the universe.

February 12, 2015

Here

This year, I have a goal to use one of my poems to transition (at least for one night) into spoken word poetry. Here is one piece I am considering.  It is one section of a much longer work on loss, uneasiness, and hope:

Yet, the thing is.

I’ve learned that we can learn

all we want,

 

Yet still become

what we want to become.

A being; what we are.

 

Yes, I have convinced

my mind of sinless tragedies.

 

In my chest resides

a suddle tension

that comes with a good cry,

a nervous yelp the dog

pleades to his neighbor

and I know.

 

I know that it can feel

like pain

When you feel nothing at all.

 

Nothing, in the sense that it is

less

(we think)

than what we used to know.

 

You do feel one thing, though.

Fast-moving, rushed.

Isolated in feeling,

incomplete in understanding.

 

Your veins burn, sometimes.

 

At others they stand still.

Breath can come in,

but skatters on ridges of the throat

mountains of doubt

on it’s way out,

waiting

 

For what seems to be an epiphany,

or at least empathy.

 

We knew all along, didn’t we?

That every problem came with an answer

Every breath a song.

 

We’re still here.

The song is playing–

Listen.

 

I am layered.

What is old, is still surrounding me.

What is older, is building within me.

It is in my soul, eternal.

 

I accept the challenges of today,

the newness of tomorrow,

and the fact that shit can come my way

And has. 

 

That I hold it in my body

and in my head

and in my heart

That, too, has remained safe.

 

It is my red-blood-filled-memory-keeper

It is my life-still-renews-daily-seeker

It is the fact

that I know there exists

a spirt in knowing we exist.

 

We have value

even if it is an uncertain paradigm.

I make it a certain fact,

even when it makes me nervous.

 

Anxiety pulling itself out

needing more

to know

if I’m

doing this right at all.

 

June, 2014

Fear

Let me out

of my four-legged pen

and have my eyes

come out to play–––

I’m sick of all these “rules”

and “expectations.”

 

Fear?

A chamber only dark

horses go away to,

don’t seem to like it

yet they rest on anyway

in their own gloom.

 

Closed doors define

so don’t let me get away;

I am capable of freedom

I understand my mind

has crevices I do not know

and still others I do

but am unwilling to explore.

 

Pass up the world’s grandeur

and pure energy

for a kiss and a light beer?

 

One day we shall come out

of the dark,

stammering like stallions

embracing the golden swell

we know forever well,

to be light.

 

September 15, 2014

Confidence

“Are you a confident

being?” my teacher

asks of me,

my face approaching

a mirror I’d rather not see.

   

“Being of what?” I reply,

rapping the blackboard

my mind picks up chalk

and I write: “A tale

of confidence.” 

   

“It’s the story 

we need to hear,” I am told

on repeat, like a pop song

on the radio I want to repress

yet memorize and shout.

   

“Being,” 

I repeat.

“Being, me.”

   

The rap slows,

my mind stops,

and I start smiling. 

 

August 8, 2014 

The Beauty Within

Take ownership

of your mess,

for your beauty

can only be found

within.

Whether it be below

your darkest depths,

within your deepest fears–––

no cande-lit room awaits you,

and yet all I can do

is cheer

that I am here,

and it is day,

a new light

borrowed from the same sun

I ran from yesterday,

blurring into the furry of my mind

that’s actually been quite playful

all along,

once I learned

it’s all a game.

September 1, 2014