Intention

The simplest intention

each lesson of life

gifts you

should not build you up

but build you down,

break off the complicated factions

the world threw at you

and release them

into the wind.

 

September 10, 2016

Advertisements

Sitting at LACMA

We are never stuck in ourselves

my feet planted on concrete

connected to ambivalent sky

as the trees sway to the rhythm of wind

that played on my ancestors’ cheeks.

 

June 13, 2015

One for Love

A gentle tap.

A slight placement

of a hand,

carefully, on my back.

Eyelids perched

on radiant,

story-layered skin.

The sound

of your kiss

like the rain;

the taste

of your breath,

a summer wind.

Your gaze

tells me you have

everything,

right here.

I trace your lips

to remind you

I am

only extra.

 

January 27, 2016

You

So you–

you–

want to write a poem?

 

Start by walking out your front door

and saying hello to every face you meet:

bird in the sky,

leaf on the lawn,

a summer wind falling gently over you

and you still–

still–

want to write a poem?

 

After an over-worked day at the office

gray cubicles and clear ice cubes clinking

on paper cups I just want to make sure

I’ve heard you right:

you,

who wakes up every morning

just to paint the sunrise;

you,

who tallies ticket orders

and buys Christmas presents,

builds log cabins

and feeds the homeless;

you

who has ever wondered

what your place is on this Earth–

you

want to write a poem?

 

The Earth hears your beckoning,

is waiting for you

to open up

open the door to your soul

and realize that man-made

will always have its limits…

the mountain peak will always

surpass Mountain Dew

and wild thoughts fall flat

onto to the blue horizon,

spread out like a quilt

nature made just for you.

 

Hear it whisper,

my dear,

that beating in your heart.

 

You mustn’t

simply

write a poem.

 

You are the poem.

 

December 9, 2015

Flow

A simple life

a solo life

is not a life off-course,

.

We must teach

our sails to turn

to a new wind

.

I want to learn

what it is like

to be accepted by my own skin,

.

I want to feel

what it is like

to pull the oars and steer

.

What it is like

to let hatred eat up

your skull

.

Only evil would know,

not I, not you, my sister,

we’re Love

.

Love the simple,

Love the brave,

Love the everything will stay the same

.

Now change

because even that facade will fade away,

the impermanence of all holds meaning

.

More than my hands around a cross,

Now I’ll get lost

in the mind that identifies too much with itself 

.

We are body,

We are mind,

We are soul,

.

Flowing

in one place,

together.

.

July 12, 2015

To clarify, I am and grew up Catholic, and I DO believe that the cross is meaningful.  I believe that Christian spirituality holds many basic truths as do belief systems such as Buddhism.  They overlap more than we may realize at the surface.  What I take away from both systems is that we are all connected to a Divine source (whatever It may be), that we are all connected, and that we must live in the “now” to access It.