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
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
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 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
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
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
“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
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