some kind of wonderful…

I am not breathing

existing

to convince you of me

you already know my darling

I consider where we lay our minds

what our hearts have experienced

this unfolding is worthy

worthy to be written of

spoken of

experienced

yet I am only one third

one strand, plaited

I am one star in your sky of a thousand

a spec of real blooming in a field of illusion

but look at me here

perhaps I am trying

trying to convince you of me

but you already know…

remember me

my love

 

This did not come out as I wanted. I think some parts of me still choose to be hidden. I am not even certain what I was starting to write, or what any of this means, other than I just started writing (but that is typical of my writing process) I believe the seeds are still germinating. Roots are in my heart but the blooms, the stems, the leaves are all sleeping under the surface.

Sunday is a day of rest for me. A day I live under no expectations or duty. I just simply slip into comfort, create this nurturing womb, breathe free, write a river, cry an ocean, laugh and sing a garden. It is beauty evolving and the dying of old layers. I am learning to love myself, take care of this beautiful body that has brought me this far. She deserves to be taken care of and once I put aside all the lies of my mind, I am becoming what I was meant to all along. I am opening…

I have a found a soul family of those who understand what I am currently going through. Putting a voice to this excruciating yet beautful transformation has been so very helpful. I wish I could say I am past all my fears and just write about what I experiencing, but I am not quite there yet. Although, I am clearer now, more certain of myself and my path, and I am living in the moment, just enjoying what is here within me, around me, from me, at any given moment. This doesn’t mean I don’t have dreams or desires, because, OH MY…my desires, my dreams are strong and gorgeously painted in my heart. It just means I am more than ever before in a fantastic place to realize those dreams and desires.

And for the moment, all is well with my soul while I wait. I am in some kind of wonderful…

 

 

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a starlit hope…

I don’t want to return
to those seconds where I died
it is not the scene of a pretty flower wiliting
rather a self-massacre
a dissection of  heart and mind and soul
I drowned in my own pooled blood
it was warm for a  few minutes
as if relief escaped the wound
I so thick-layered with darkness
I could only reach out into the emptiness
I don’t need to return to that lifetime
I just never want to forget death
for rebirth follows
long ago in that darkness
a star shone its message
and my heart still yearns
for its lighted hope

sequence of woman…

Could she be anymore feminine than now

holding a tiny mouth to her breast

I dare not disrupt beauty

heart sighs

love beating deeply

a mask I have seen

 I have worn 

contented 

pure joy

speaking silence

 a secret language

glance between

mother and child…

 

I am, still

woman and mother

of dust and energy

water and synchronicity

breath and blood

as stars above

and below the ground

mystery and wonder

cocooned art

love comes first

from within where life grows

and carriers born of that womb

repeat the same sequence…

 

woman to mother to woman

 

 

 

 

 

 

chrysalis

What calls me
to take my mind away
I don’t recognize anything inside me anymore
this displacement of air
heaviness in my chest
I still breathe
yet weariness is my shade
black and blue
magenta
I,
no longer in the know of my body
twists and turns
lock me up
steal my former curves
maybe I am the pupa
dreaming of blooms in the wild field
freedom is blurred in this praire wind
the sun still finds me
golden tongue warms my skin
traces the skeleton of my wings
rememebering me
yet becoming me…
transforming breath
chrysalis

spread…

I was never anything

so murderous

until i slipped out of my clothes

gently fell each piece to the floor

bare and daring

I gave myself

over and again

again and again

whatever I was looking for

it never came

with pink lips and

breathless sighs

I was never anything

as murderous as me!

 

 

 

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
untilled
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 
transition
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
 

ice cream not my first choice…

Sometimes
you need 
an escape
such as 
mind-blowing 
sex
or Thai food
or even
something simple
like a cup of 
jamocha almond 
fudge ice cream…

had to settle 
for the latter

was not  
my first choice

this stranger loves…

I fall in love
every time I hear 
a vulnerable heart
one unafraid to weep 
expose fragility 
waning and shattered
yet wrapped 
in a mendable form
I fall in love everyday
a heart designed to feel
every rough edge
to ease the weariness of another
letting my rhythm lace each rip
drop a solitary tear to renew
if only hearts ever knew
this stranger does love…