snowmen, a good omen

If you could know the future, would you be down for it?
If that chair was there would you sit down for it (again)?
I wouldn't ruin those surprises, if I could know them.
If I was clairvoyant I would stand there (again).
If you had to fight and I had to cry all over again, would we?
Even if it meant we had to slight and try again?
I would.
For the sake of tea and dead books
For lips and eyes and being home
For when I share my bed with two cats I can only smile for the sake of those cat naps
So what- the snow came upon us unexpectedly?
So what- the glow came upon us unexpectedly?
I wouldn't want to guess it
(for once)
I wouldn't want to mess it
(Up with my clarity)
I'd rather see it snowing
Not knowing
All there is about snowmen.
Just glowing
in the hope of this good omen.

In my garden I grow heaven

In a land where greening hills are clothed
in swaying herbs and wild ivy
I run fleshed-footed and flush-faced
Soft and full of love
grandmothers ribbons
Adorn my playing arms and untamed hair
I run wide-eyed and open minded there
Across the crossroads
of a gentler planet
Foot souls rooted to the ground
Palms reaching solely for heaven
Four palms and seasons of plenty and rest
Bring your brimming eyes
to the ceiling of the skies
Draped in dewy stars
guarded by azure giants
You will be celestial and silver-lined
Muddy-kneed you can crawl
To the middle-earthen core of
Mosaics of memories covered in moss and weeds
All is soft and full of love
beneath our feet

Nothing Deeper

I watched the waves one night
On that lonely coast
When I was broken
Like the glass in the sand
And that sunset was the last stand
Between me and what laid ahead
But I lost my face to the fight
and I faded away into the night instead
And there was nothing darker

I wept in a snow bank one night
In that haunting forest
When I was frozen
Like the time that trapped me there
When the clocks stopped ticking
And I didn't know what day it was
So I lost my warmth to the twilight
Fading away into the chill
And there was nothing colder

I woke up in the sun this morning
In a pool of golden light
I thought I was dreaming
But there was nothing deeper.

aligning

the stars hang a little closer to earth tonight
the moon sings a gentler lullaby, everything's alright
and tomorrow the sun is going to rise up extra bright
i'm flying through spaces of dark and light
he catches glimpses
and searches for me
rockets and comets feel the change descending
constellations and heavenly bodies are ascending
i am glowing
and heaven feels it
feet rooted to the ground, hands lift to the sky
My strength has be found, lifted so me high
the stars align back around, back to my first try
I am growing
and heaven can feel it
lost then found, the stars came back around

in the rushed sunset of withering summer

She sits and watches the last of sunset
Hopes to find her reflection in the blushing sky
When did the red rush in?
How can she slow it down?
The sky, patchwork like the cat in her favorite book
Gorgeous and purring
When did she stop reading that story?
It's been in broken boxes
With the poems of broken hearts
Patchwork dreams and pieces of Christmastime
She sits unwithered in the withering hues of the ripened season
She finds her reflection in the eyes of a warrior
When did sun start to dip?
How can she slow it down?
The patchwork of her youth and catty loves
Dip away, Leaving her
Gorgeous and purring
She takes her rushed heart out of the broken boxes

Transmitter, Receptor.

It's not just all in my head.
We could float in the same space
For a lifetime.
So close we could touch,
So close we could laugh-
For a while.
We could float along
But we could never bond.
I could tie my arms,
You could hide your legs
But the fit would always be wrong.
Mixed signals...
Fragmented sequences...
Deteriorated communication...
leads to chemical imbalance
And broken hearts.
Two wrong shapes can share space
But always be apart.

body language

I am somewhere inside the flame of a lakeside campfire
Swaying and burning beneath the stars
I am moving toward the center, glowing brighter
Cracking and sparking beside the water
And I am brighter than the night
Flooding into the deepest pockets
My eyes are spotlights shining
Into the shadowed unknown
Blue and lucid
I am the reflection of the comets
That tail streaking light across the smile of the moon
A child of the northern guide
I grace the lost with illumination
When the shadows steal their vision
A camp, the North Star, my fingers
I am somewhere
Between the light of dawn
And the turbidity of midnight
Swaying and burning beneath the Great

unrequited fool

here she is
again
terrified and ragged.
but now,
she's not at your door
not under your sheets
not under your skin
she's shedding
she's gone
onto the machine
into the gears
again
she's a shaken doll
missing a few buttons
missing a few hairs
missing you.
but now,
you let her go
you let her cry
you just let her.
you think she'll beg
again
unkept and hollow.
but now,
she's emptier than that
a vase without flowers
a doll without hair
unrequited
again
and now she's just a fool.

write me right

you wrote me a note
on notebook paper
I was fourteen
and i read it one hundred times

you wrote me a letter
on plain paper
(a little tattered)
you told me I mattered
to you
I was seventeen
and I kept it for five years

you wrote me an explanation
on a computer screen
we didn’t know what it would mean
two thousand miles apart
eight years ago
I tried to delete it one time

you wrote me a note
folded over six times
while I was lost in the woods
I read it every day
two years ago
and you said it was always me
and I wanted it to be

you wrote me poems
more than i could count
and you stole my breath
and my heart skipped beats
too many times to count

one day
your writing was done
in one moment gone
and words were just words
and you wrote me off
and i wrote you goodbye
and we were once upon a time

if you write me again
i’ll read it
probably a hundred times
and i’ll lose sleep again
two hours of sleep
to read what you write
because even if we’re wrong
you can always write me right

keeping face

a rushing heat sweeps across my feet
a blush in my cheeks
and i'm a fool again
a blushing beat sweeps my cheek
a rush in my heart
and i'm a fool again
try to not to laugh
i know i've lost my face.
try not to look
i know i've lost some sleep.

by the way

there is a way to life.
moving on and on without us
while we do our living
and when we do our dying.
it can move inside us
if we allow the way of life.

if i stop caring,
will i stop living-
or will i just begin?
if i stop interfering
will the way carry me?

the way of give and take
moves along inside us.
while we are beginning
and then while we are dying-
will it carry us?
i just want to be safe.


the way i know is tireless.
until i understand,
i will stop searching.

i could have gone anywhere but i stayed here for you

november was a blur.
i was sad and lost
and you made it so.
i slept in my own tail
and you slept alone
sleep-talking to her-
i wish i could remember
what made me this frail.
leaking out of my lungs.
then i wanted you to go.

in december, you were smoking.
i was sad and lost
when you stopped joking.
i woke up in your second-hand
and you slept alone.
so i talked to him
while i was awake.
i wish i could remember
what destroyed our home
and why i wanted you to go.

january iced over.
i found myself
and begged you not to be lost.
now we both sleep alone.
maybe you still sleep- talk her,
and maybe i still care. so?
i wish i could remember myself.
when i said "go",
you made it so.

blurring. smoking. ending.
i'm still chasing you.
and you say i don't like to travel.

out like a lamb

so here i am.
downward like a dog,
aloof like a cat.
i'll look your way
if you toss me a bone.
it's the only way i can-
quiet and alone.

no rebellious chickens here,
just herbs and teas.
a fox in her den
with a piece of fish,
a cornish hen.
no rebellious qi here-
but nobody can be here.

i tore in like a lion.
bloodied teeth,
jagged claws.
and those cages held me
like a bird-
until i met my strength.
downward like a dog.

it's the only way i can-
because i know who i am.
i'm out.
like a lamb.

always. sometimes. never.

a little too dramatic
self-assured around to centered
and walking walking walking
centered in that circle
a little too problematic
it all spins around, around
and you swear it's you
that's moving
but you're just hanging on
but you are still hanging on
always.

a little too turned around
to turn around just yet
coming through the clouds
stretching yawning waking
awakening in the same bed
a little too cloudy
it all hangs around you
and you swear it's you
that's hanging around
but you're leaving
sometimes.

a little too caught up
to catch up right now
the finish line approaching
and running running running
through the line up to catch up
running instead of sleeping
and you swear it's continuous
but it it isn't
and you swear you're behind
but you aren't yet
never stop running
and you know i won't
never.

blessed and kept

his hand rested on my head
i was tiny and calm
he read me stories before bed
i was seven and sleepy
and he asked the lord
to bless me
and keep me
to shine upon me
like my name means
now i'm sad and scared
and almost thirty, instead
and before bed i'm crying
like i deserve to
and i pray for a hand upon my head
to feel blessed
to feel kept

"The Lord bless you and keep you
The Lord make His face shine on you
and be gracious to you
The Lord turn His face toward you
and give you peace."
Numbers 6: 24-26

lonely city

it's so cold out there.
it's so cold i don't care.
he's gone and forgot his mittens.
he's gone and i let him.
but i blossom with security,
and he thrives on uncertainty
are we finally going to be safe?
are we making another mistake?
the black and white and gray:
an eternal struggle to go or stay.

crashing couches. burning bridges.

you say that this time you don't want to (go). but my heart is telling me that you'll disintegrate if you don't (go). and something else is telling me that you survive on those couches (los angeles, new york) and you thrive on those chances (wandering, returning). but this time this could be different. your reel is spinning, couch to couch and i watch it play out and it watch you buy your tickets and i watch your head shake no you don't want to (go). but you do because i can only give you half of that and i must give you more than a couch. and your thoughts led you into a cage, but it could have been a den (trapped or hibernating?). when you pack you pack your flask and lighter. and i'll sob because i'm no longer a fighter (for your lungs and liver). though i was, i retreated because you felt that sword along your back and those needles in your ears and it made you heavy. like this bridge we built so that we could (go). anywhere. but i came here and you came along and that cold made you less strong. bridges of love letters. came down word by word and you've got that lighter just in case and that flask just in case it goes the other way and you watched me let it all (go). and you let it all (go). where you're understood and warm.

troubled

with no soft place to lay your head
with your bag and shoes in tow instead
without the comfort of our unmade bed
you are troubled
again

but now you know your father
and now you know your purpose
but now you know i'm troubled
again

you're hoping for a landing pad
hoping for what you should've had
hoping for sanity in world gone mad
(because it's not you who is)

because it's not you who's unsure
because it's only what you choose
again and again

searching for understanding
from me
searching for that safe landing
from me
searching for solid standing
from me
and you know i tried
again
and you know i cried
again
(because it's not you who did)

nine needles in a tomb

in the golden age
made of stone
on a deathbed stage
made your home
roll away the stone
like jesus
roll away the mystery
before us
we were always meant to find you.
earth to metal to flesh.

in the ancient dark
shrouded in dust
indifferent to time
saved your stories
reveal tricks of wisdom
like confucius
reveal secrets of dynasties
enlighten us
we will ever know your conduits.
tunnels to channels.

thousands of elusive years
the gift of the emperor to us
the gift we'll never hold
nine small tools.

"Sharpened stones known as Bian shi have been found in China, suggesting the practice of acupuncture may date to the Stone Age... during the Han Dynasty stone and bone needles were replaced with metal. The earliest examples of stone [and metal] needles were found in a tomb dated to c. 113 BC"