My Gold

Because how can you read the news, my Jo?

How can that shit be your day job?

The day glaciers melt and

people teach machines to

teach other people

about the same machines and

sitting in my rose garden all alone

can lead to murder and

taking a soda without asking

and running out the door

can lead to murder and

you can meet a love of your life

and realize that everyone

is human, and that no relationship

or person will ever be perfect and

that in spite of all the “good shit”

going your way, you can still feel

lonely and out dated and

so damn curious about the future

that you just don’t want to know anymore.

 

How can anyone guarantee family?

I got so god damn lucky.

 

How can anyone read my lips

and promise neutrality?

Everyone’s always gotta have an opinion.

 

We live on stories, so we might as well

accept the truth and move on.

 

If truth is the end of a rainbow

I am never going to see,

I might as well pray to it

and acknowledge its existence anyway,

know that Spinoza will help me find my way,

that Julia will help me find my way,

and that this god damn one beautiful Earth

that has done nothing but save our sorry souls

one lifetime after another, promising renewal

and never quitting, never disappointing—

it lives in me. In you. In us.

 

After I read the news,

I have to remember:

my first mother may one day be all I have left,

but she is everything…

before I got here, now, and long after

you and I are gone.

 

Thank you for giving me the chance to live on, to see a few stories play out,

and know that while the foreground is temporary, the background holds,

sacred,

secure.

 

August 19, 2019

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Truth is Black

Chasing truth

is difficult

when it’s wearing

a hat 3 sizes

too big

for it’s head —

hiding its eyes

from the onlooker,

dancing in shadows

it knows no better

while we go on

searching

under street lights.

 

December 5, 2018

 

What do you do

when you’re tired

like the world meant for you to be

and you’re broke

like the world meant for you to be

and you’re lonely

like the world meant for you to be?

 

You get angry

like Earth meant for you to be

you find truth

like Earth meant for to find

you fight back

like Earth meant for you to do

you let go of the world

like Earth meant for you to do, too.

 

You build a new world.

 

February 11, 2018

 

watching the moon

 

you are on your own

with a life that belongs

to no one–

and that is more than okay.

 

what do I believe in?

I believe in truth,

the elements,

digging underneath the dirt

of lies we have been hiding

underneath our skin,

feeding one another

 

with or without realizing it

your soul

is the soul of the Gods,

the air you take in

as you step outside,

the sky shading you from the universe above

the earth underneath your feet

tell me that you can live without this;

tell me that this isn’t life itself.

 

you are made out of flesh and bone,

truth and more truth

layered one on top of the other

if you forget your way,

remember that it probably wasn’t your way

to begin with.

 

the way is empty;

the way is full of life.

 

and that life is surrounding you,

always.

 

April 9, 2017

S

Your story,

as important as it has become to you in this life,

is just a story.

 

There is something bigger at work here.

 

Your story,

as important as it has become to you in this life,

is just a letter.

 

It’s the letter “S”

with its roadway curves

and lack of edges–

it is a letter, in a word,

on a page, in a book.

 

 

The only truth is connection.

 

The only outcome is surrender.

 

December 3, 2016

through my window

the intersection

of tree

and sky,

the lines 

they paint

across pale blue horizons 

while two black specks of bird chase each other.

***

Truth,

expanding over snow-dipped houses–

it will never be found beneath my pen.

***

the earth knows things my mind cannot see.

***

but I can still sit back,

exhale,

and soak in the view:

a single, conscious moment in the universe.

tumblr_nxewliCb0n1u489n5o1_1280.jpgFebruary 6, 2016

Truth, Wisdom, Love

The weight

of the Truth

is the weight

of a mountain–

a single Earth.

The weight

of Wisdom

is the weight

of a feather–

a single tear.

It is

bright tonight

as I huddle tight

next to a soft pillow

and a softer light,

shining

the way Love

greets lovers

in the doorway…

November 5, 2015