an anniversary…a death…a resurrection

It has been 2 years since registering on WordPress. So it stated in my notifications a few days ago. It hasn’t felt that long ago even with all the pauses I took from writing. Perhaps that is what came to mind (is time relevant?) when I thought about the purpose of my writing. I asked myself if I wanted to keep writing in the same manner, still feel the same pain over and over again, experience the same ache and loneliness wedged inbetween the lines, wake up a few years from now still carrying the heaviness of loss?

I have taken quite a extensive break from writing in the last couple of months. I just stopped feeling inspired! I felt a part of me die! I felt that I had nothing more to say! I felt once again that the same pattern came back to haunt me! And, so I let go! Every once in awhile I worried I would never write again, but writing is inside me, alive and breathing. I lay dormant so I could release the old energy I have carried for a long while now. and in my stillness I suffered, was pummled, torn and cut, cried, mourned, died a thousand deaths, but not without reason, not without purpose. The dark night of the shadow is very true. My moon groaned…my sun dimmed…ego death is so very hard to embrace.

So I am here again, without expectation. A resurrection? Well, not the old shadow self. But there will be more shedding of old skin…you can just sense it when you have more to release…beauty from ashes, let me burn…I am still becoming M


a mooring truth…

my god how I hear

the sound of years

centuries of lifetimes spent


so many precious hours

that which equal the stars

all to reach this one moment

a mooring truth

I  do remember

This poem I started a day or two ago but could not finish. I could feel the energy buzzing the tip of my mind/tongue and yet, nothing flew to the page. Today I was able, in a few moments, to write what came. I love moments such as these. Clarity unveiled! I asked, prayed I should say, for divine guidance concerning direction, a purpose…my life’s mission, hoping that whatever aimlessness, unassurace in my writing was actually for something more than not. I received that truth today, or at least a small glimpse of that truth which is most assuredly moored to my writing. Many things I’ve written in past poetry/writing, on this blog, my other blog, Instagram, even a couple of twitter accounts (which I haven’t written there in quite sometime) I now realize have more significance than I could have possibly imagined! These last few years have been hours, minutes, and seconds lived horrifically torturous and beautifully awakening, all divinely guided towards total self-transformation. So where does this knowledge lead me? There is no end destination per se. I just know that my writing is not for not! And that I should speak my truth of what has lead me to this precipise I am at!

random writing…

*often I just sit and start writing. Letting the words come with no intention of making a  point. I refer to it as waterfall of words, emotions, etc,…just letting it flow and end where it may. This is such a post. LOL

We often come to a crossroads in our life and there are years where we can linger in the dirt. Arid is our atmosphere and we toil under the sun, watching for the storms brewing in the distance, chant for rain, pray for reprieve. Sometimes there is nothing in our field of vision, nor words that soften our land. Storms come and we lay unprotected, pelted and left raw in the elements. In those years sometimes we are called upon to lay dormant, be patient and wait.  We don’t always listen though and we create more negative energy that takes even longer to heal from. I have been at that crossroads for quite sometime. Mired in my pain and grasping at unhealthy doors that have brought delay and more heartache. Awhile back I screamed for mercy. I began to let go of expectations, yet still my mind, so use to creating them, I still desire certain outcomes and with that comes disappointment.  I know healing has begun and it has taken me awhile to adjust to the light, to see color beyond the gray, and definitely a little more heartache has come along the pathway.

You  may notice my writing has been sparce and strange. It too seems foreign to myself, weird and almost plain in comparison to what I have been writing for the last couple of years. Part of me is mourning that ache and beauty of lost love and the dark writing. For a long time I had felt quite beautiful in my pain. Perhaps that exploration of my dark side was/is the lesson. I needed to dive and stay growing in my hurt and pain, and at times,  in misery to understand my duality (yin and yang). To awaken to the light that has always been inside of me. This is not to say my dark is no longer, quite the opposite, I still feel it wanting to surface, to be heard, but I think it is part of my ego screaming for attention. I am certain dark will remain in parts of my writing. It is just a part of understanding the human psyche, consciously though I am choosing not to stay in the dark.

I am moving forward, i feel at this moment with limited visibility, yet with trust and faith that where I am headed is where I am meant to go, be, become. It is not without separation  or heartache, and loss though… I am aware and understand this strong pull to leap though. I recognize also that dark and light are both beauty deep within my soul and live inbetween here and there


12:12 a.m. confession…

There was man who wrote erotic tweets. He was quite beautiful in words and he dm’d me a few times. We had exchanged poetry and conversations. The he disappeared for quite awhile. Until his alter twitter, which wrote beautifully erotic things too, had found my alter twitter. We had no idea who the other was until he dm’d me in the alter versions of ourselves. Of course he use very much the same type of M O. I giggled, letting him know I knew exactly who he was…I made him guess who I was in a quite amusing way by dropping hints. Laughingly sad he had not an f-ing clue who I was. I eventually told him. He only dm’d one or two more times after that, which I was totally ok that he didn’t hang around. Some people have no staying power nor loyalty. So tonight I am sitting here thinking about the last couple of years and thinking of my social media writing experiences, why this instance popped into my mind… I have no idea! Yet now, I am thinking what are the chances of that happening? Twice in the different versions of myself he came along. Apparently he didn’t find it such an extaordinary thing… 

a waterfall of words…and words spread amongst my ground and grow

Pay attention
pay attention screams
my intuition

soil dry
my soul
long have I 
neglected tilling
too busy trying 
to grow from stone
failing on the outskirt 
I have forgotten
the seeds within
growing things will crack open
spring forth life
from within
uprooting earth 
layering the ground 
not without water,
not without light
having never doubt
it’s  grand design 
flower and bloom 
feed & cover the world 
I neglected my soil
my soul I am unforgivable 
forgetting to love you 
left forgotten
you have only been alone
toiling in the dark
this mind has blocked your sun
and the water of tears only
falls to my pillow 
no more are you
in the shadows
darkened by neglect

dead in weeds 
they can’t feed you
but I can
sweet water can ammend 
adjust postion 
into garden
bee to kiss bloom
to feed
circle our our world 
and others

sweet death of a rose…

May death be sweet
like that of a dying rose
past her prime
when molecular structure is chaos
and her heart only knows
to fold and shut in

each petal breaks apart from stem
her last vein severed
though her fragrance lingers
her perfume long lay breathing

shall you watch her 
release her frame
this life inside her aching 
to sustain her worth
and to what moment 
does she finally herald
love, let go…
(don’t…not yet)

May her death be sweet
inhale her one last time
achingly embrace her
beautiful loss in goodbye 
yet do not not leave her 
unattended in her decay 
wondering the reason
of her bloom

felled from my lips…

there will be an end…
I’m uncertain with which means it is to happen

perhaps I’ll be 105
well beyond breathing expectation

I may still carry an ocean in my eyes but maybe they’ll reflect his sky

I won’t ever unknow him and my heart races surging with that truth

yet I may never ever truly know the movement of he…my heart already feels every ounce of that kind of empty

I probably won’t hear very well at that age as my ears are forever plugged into music…even now I write with live and intoxicating sounds flowing through me

I am fluid in uncertainty; the remains of hesitation line my lungs; these effects travel through time…I know I still feel this, what this is in the now; and so feel it then

squeezing every drop of he from me…I’m airless and deaf in the loud disclosure of quietness; even then when I’m 105 I will feel as now; alone…uncared for…exposed and unfurled, scented with don’t waste me

I dont know how to navigate this terrain, its foreign soil slipping through my fingers, and chokehold on my red dusted heart

tell me, should I turn to leave
jump from cliffs
slide into the crevasse
disappear into a dark lake bottom
never speak of you again

I can’t undo you
too late 
I am 105, carried in my last breaths I whisper of now, of you, your every obscured words puzzled, nuzzled in my pores 

I whisper of the ghosts in your writing…chanting your name

come here
show me, love 
let me practice the entirety of you
open to me
the sound of you…

falling until felled from my lips

…and then, collapse 

As it all falls fatefully 
my hands
no substantial grip
every tiny fleck
slips through my fingers
whatever my heart 
stirs within 
moves towards
…and then suddenly, collapse
of a beautiful thing
Something my heart reads
a lessening chapter
pages crumpled 
achingly piled 
my blood
my breath
my entire being;
gasoline to flame
and an end…
there is always
an end

My afternoon into evening…

Part 1

I knew before I arrived I would run into him. Funny that I should think that as I was getting ready to leave home for work… Such a silly thought considering    I almost never see him, yet today I felt I would. My intuition seems to be heightened lately… Not sure why but I sometimes its unexplainable. I walked into work and there he was sitting at the computer desk. (What woman wouldn’t notice him though; perhaps one that is no longer alive between her thighs 😳). My co worker smiled, said she and he were waiting for me to arrive. They wanted to asked how I did something. I giggled being that he is the IT guy…he just fixes complicated things though. I showed him and we laughed at the simplicity of it.  He almost had it figured out but was grateful I showed him the rest of the way.  As we walked down the hall we talked about how google and youtube were saving us time and frustration, changing the way we learn. I could feel him watching me. Like he was examining me in microbursts. Everytime I run into him I get the feeling he wants to say more…like a hesitation hanging. So young, so polite, so good looking! I am sure he is making some young beautiful girl very happy! 

Part 2

He was a man in the age range of 85. Just out for a a quick stroll after his dinner. thought he swing on by, take a short cut through the reception area.  He asked if i liked Popeyes chicken. And proceeded to tell me that the new building had opened its doors today. He said they have cajun spices and if you didnt like cajun spice you’d  pobably not like their chicken. He said his favorite was going to chic fil a and that they were building a free standing restaurant on the otherside town. No longer will he have to go into the mall but will be able to enjoy the ease of drive-thru. He said you use to see a service station on every corner but now their seems to be a mexican restaurant on every corner. I told him that is because tacos are one of the best foods ever (love 🌮🌮🌮 tacos). He agreed with me and said that’s what was served for dinner in  the dining room tonight. The phone rang and he waved goodbye to me as I answered the phone. Even though the entire conversation was about food, there was such an easiness about us talking. Like we had done it a thousand times before! I love moments such as this one.  It is when you realize how some people just connect so easily. I smiled more tonight! And dammit if tacos aren’t on my brain now!!


Part 3

it was time for me to go home and there she was. In the hallway in her wheelchair reaching  out her hand towards me.  I grabbed it and held her fragility in my hand. So soft was her skin I was afaid my hand would scratch her. She looked at me with beautiful baby blues, little red-rimmed and teary. My heart just warmed by her. I told her I was on my way home. She said she didn’t want me to leave. I didn’t want to leave her.  I wanted to sit there with her in the deafening silence just holding her hand.  As if both our hands understood how lonely both of us have been. In that precious moment she was mother, daughter, sister, woman, and friend to me. I could have stayed awhile to give her my love and quiet contemplation. I could have told her my secrets and know that she would understand. I wanted to stay and tell her about “him”! I wanted to hear about her love. The one she held so close to her heart. She will be returned to him sooner rather than later. I think she will be the most beautiful creature when that day arrives…

words that quickly fell… from depth to page; of my muses and in goodbyes

I thought
a dream

he was

but for


he enfolds

a different

he never
cared lit
for me

do not

to the
of lost

nor so
to the

(gifted in
your hand)


in that
she in
her truest
purest form
tangled in the
green of fields
her sound
that of a
flightless bird…
struck down

will just remain

settled in
they’re never
meant to be
fully realized

…and still
I’m able
to breathe