Is a hard raft
In an ocean of no-name
Pain
Reminds me I’m alive
And that I still have
So much to learn
Is a hard raft
In an ocean of no-name
Pain
Reminds me I’m alive
And that I still have
So much to learn
(Re)Birth
Birth is when
The lights
Down every corridor
Of conscious possibility close
And I cannot breathe Continue reading “(Re)Birth, Divine Family, Dear Pattie”
In this desolate space
At the frontier of my ascetic monk
And sneaky, hungry Gollum
The king of Eden flees
In terror of the wraiths of the land
Dark Mother of mine
You crush me
With naked, fibrous vines
In the depth of your teeming womb
The darkness floods
I let it drown me
Nurtured by dreams of Nature’s vast bosom
I rest in the bathtub,
There’s no light
Just a tender belly
And you, Dark Mother
Suffocating me with life
Dark Mother, what I see churns within
The frightening, thunderous force of yin
Turning the world like an elemental hologram
Feasting on light like my pale skin
Dark Mother moans, listens, heals herself
Nourishing the muscular primal fibers
Of my innocent, divine, masculine child
Frozen and malnourished
Over the ages, lost in the wild
Tremblingly clutching the steel cord of destruction
But brimming with Dark Mother’s
Angry, wild poetry.
Hearts slough their way
Through the hypnotized haze
Embalming us in a feverish daze,
Alone, gazing at the psychosis.
Swinging from branch to branch
This is where I belong, he says
This is where I feel so free and happy
The world down there
Is filled with thorns,
It’s so painful.
He opens his arms,
Looking at the sunset,
Feeling the wind on his face
This is what matters, he says
I know that this feeling
Is what everyone down there deserves.
But no, he says
It’s not just that
It’s about the people too
He wants to slap them,
He angrily, jokingly points and spits at them
But he wants to give them all
A big warm hug, he is blushing.
We stand in a circle,
Holding hands,
He has so many friends
No, he says, not just friends
But the people I deeply love.
He takes out the thorn in his foot
The others look down,
They pull out their own thorn
But not everyone is ready…
He wants to help,
But he doesn’t know how, he says,
To do that right now.
We lay in an open grassy field, she says
Looking at the sky,
Holding each other,
Our faces are touching,
We are so happy, she says
But also sad, but our sadness
Is also part of our happiness.
He looks up at the sky
It reflects in his eye,
His beautiful eye,
Now he’s doing funny things
He’s on a hill, flexing his big biceps
With a tiny head,
Now he’s walking backwards into the forest
Goofily waving his hand in a peace sign,
Now he’s poking his head in and out of the trees,
Now he says thank you
Go now.
And so we returned.
The dimensions collapsed
And I was left sitting across from her
With the sandy walls and thorny ramparts
Slowly collapsing
Grain by grain, thorn by thorn,
Unearthing the moonstone
Entombed in my chest.
Little plants squished beneath my toes
Little fear fountaining out my chest
A splay of stars wreathing the realm above
I hear chirping, it is sweet
I feel my heart beat,
I try to breathe but it only travels so far
Things contract around my natal star Continue reading “Safe Under the Sky With a Dragon’s Eye”
I am the meeting place of intentionality of the universe
Where the energies rippling become channeled and
Structured into a majestic matrix Continue reading “On the Dirt, By the Trees, In the Morning”
The backstory for this poem stems from the industrial backdrop of the photo below. Not that industrial is evil. It is just suffocating the tropical permaculture garden we’ve planted on campus at UMiami. There’s a reflective metallic container just to the right of the big gravel heap, in the far back of the photo. That’s where the hose and water pump are. The contracted company hired by UM to build a road through campus excavated the ground between the garden and water pump. They’ve cut out the pipe feeding water to the irrigation system for not only the garden, but the arboretum here as well.