I’m
beginning
to see
self love
in a different way.
Learning
to love yourself
for what you used to doubt,
to question, to hate–
that is the most important part.
The smile on your face,
the eyebrows above it,
the eyes a boy used to love,
the stories within them.
Water can crash down
and hurt you but in the end,
it is only water.
Everything else is just a feather,
floating,
remaining neutral.
July 2, 2016
words
flow out
like water
you
were made
to create
carry
each line
with care
glide
over them
like a feather
on glass
you
are made
of stars;
let
them be
your pen.
April 16, 2016
my intention,
my desire,
my secret wish
is to simplify life.
many men
have tried It;
we heard about it.
It didn’t work.
many women
have tried It;
we didn’t hear about it.
(proof enough) It didn’t work.
we searched for It
in churches and mosques,
temples and tall, gray shopping malls.
we listened for It
at TED talks, college lecture halls
and sports stadiums with 80,000 seats.
when fate
grants you power,
what do you do with It?
men decided to seek It only in themselves,
simplicity and peace and glory
owned by one hand, one heart, one tear.
I ask: where does the tear come from?
Where does the water come from?
I’ll start by listening there.
March 18, 2016.
how nice it is
to sit by the river and unwind,
blink by
blink.
you know your same-old view
in the city:
skyscraper tree tops
that leave you wanting for a chickadee
where can I find just one bird?
(the pigeons are beautiful, mind you.)
I yearn to hear a song;
the water gives it to me–
it gives it to us
as long as I keep my ears open
I can hear it all the way from the skyline.
remind me how love songs go, again?
does he start?
am I the minor chord?
the wind trickles in;
between my toes
the water hums.
my shoulders sigh
as I remember how easy it must have been
to let
doors open
before windows closed,
families eat meals together
after swimming through the day.
the world stills;
my eyes close;
and I tell my heart,
“It’s okay
to remain
open.”
January 21, 2016
It has
taken me a while
to sit in a dark corner,
rest in my chair
and think about the scene
on the lake:
children following
chilled ear-muffed parents,
falling into black puddles
my eyes sore
from their grimaces
and yet, all too soon,
they come back up again.
I was never too trusting
of my skates;
faces tell me their parents
are not either.
I suppose
falling and rising
are the stepping stones of a generation,
frostbite, bumps and bruises
making our own easier to handle,
each crack in the ice
new wisdom,
a sudden truth
that all we need to know
is not the mirage,
sprawled green grass glowing in the distance.
It is the frozen
here and now.
July 23, 2015
Simplicity
of life
must be evident
in our society
not hidden,
soaked up
like a sponge
…
We
are made
of water,
listen
to it flow
..
No money jingling
through veins,
no policeman’s screams–
only water,
skin
and love.
April 6, 2015
Things that scare me:
too much movement,
not enough time,
students failing classes,
children falling in line
to a code of conduct
the state tends to copy
from one generation to the next–
why can’t they provide
bandaids instead
for the multitude of broken hearts
and wings clipped off
before they got to fly,
my skin burning and telling me
that inside isn’t safe
and yet the outside won’t stop spinning
I need to jump off,
but where?
I,
we
must sink in, ankle deep
into a beautiful, mud lined shore
reminding us that a sticky situation
is never incurable–
all we must do
is wash our hands in the tide,
watch water flow
and wait for our souls to follow.
May 2, 2015
Happy (early) Birthday to my little brother, who is going to be a teenager tomorrow! 😮
