the sea

the sea rages

and the sea is still. 

we sit by the shore,

jump in the waves,

listen to the wonder of the comings

and the goings

and we love it

regardless of the times we are afraid

because it is beautiful

it is life

and it is still.

even in the wildness of its thunder,

its stillness is there.

the power terrifies us,

but those of us who are strong 

see the calmness beyond/amidst the rage,

the grace that accompanies the demons.

yet, the weak will turn 

and never return to the sea.

they will miss the storms, protected,

but they will also miss the wonder

of the sun on the water,

the fish, the sand, the exhilaration of

knowing the strength beyond ourselves.

i am like the sea.

i rage with tears and

words that sting

i stumble, thrown about as in a rush

i sit and i breath

and i dance through the tides

the cyclical tides

the frustrating times

the peaks and the depths

the wishing for balance

the willing to stop,

the longing for a straight line.

and yet, beyond the hoping and the wishing,

the circles continue,

the swirling and the twists

the coiling round and round

the ups and downs

will never stop

not as long as the waves continue to reach the shore,

as the waves disappear back into the sea,

as the sand is pulled and shifted,

and the shells revealed,

a small reminder of the treasures we have not seen,

but remember from the times when we too 

lived amongst the wild and free.

remember creatures, the water has never left us.  

26, December 2009

the functioning lungs/death

what is it like to die?

to know that in mere moments

none of this will be?

that you will never again see

her face or kiss his lips

or touch these sheets softly against your hands?

that every moment of your life

will vanish

to know the mass of flesh will 

lie there

sagging skin

organs to be cut open and examined

by someone who never knew you

funerals planned

put into the ground

or body burned by flames

lots of crying people

no one knowing what to say

breaths further apart

loosing ability to move arms and legs

eyes closed

difficult to open

slowed breath

maybe those you love are there

or maybe they already died

do you hear anything?

feel anything?

know anything new?

is there anything in that moment that never was before that moment?

what does your blood feel like?

and your breath?

what do you think?

if you are unconscious, do you know that death is near?

or any of these things?

do you know what it is to die?

to be moments from not existing in the 

world in this way?

do you think of your parents?

or your mother when she birthed you?

or the way you were conceived?

or your children?

or the moments they were conceived?

or your god?

or your love?

or your mistakes?

or is it just the immediate pain?

the fewer and farther between breaths?

do you know none of the rest of this at all?

are you scared?

are you free?

or panicked? 

can this ever be shared with someone else?

do you know the end of life

more than the beginning?

or are we like the brand new baby pushed out

of the mother's womb

covered in blood and liquids

and tears

and gasping for breath

and with no memory yet

knowing nothing but the

sensations of 

life

the heat, the lack of heat

the air

the functioning lungs

the crying out

the clinging to our mother

being held by another?

18 december 2009

this i

pain sometimes takes a hold of me

like staring at

blue veins and

wishing they would bleed

release

this anxiousness i feel

pulsating in my

contracting, constricting, contracting, constricting

why can't i leave the past?

why can't i shed that time, those places, 

those things, those ways?

why do they stay in me, cling to me,

tighten in my thought and

pressure in my head

even tears won't release me

how do i learn to crawl out of this

dark and damp cave?

how do i shed this skin and 

grow fresh?

or not even grow fresh...there is 

nothing i want to retain

i want to be a new, but not even

a new

i want to not be i

no have no concept of i

no memory of i

no thoughts of i

this i that knew you

who knew me

i was i

and never knew me or

god or love or anything

i still don't know anything

thats why i want to be 

a bird or a tree

or the wind

yes, the wind

or anything, anything

but this i

this trapped i

this constricted i

this i that reads horoscopes 

looking for hope

or reassurance

or some kind of meaning

this i that no longer picks up books

this i that is tired of the world as it is

tired of hoping for better

tired of knowing that will never happen

tired of loneliness

and tired of everyday, ever moment

trying to teach myself

how to relax, be love, be free, be positive with

the people around me

tired of trying to be free and heal

i no longer want this i

i want to be a bird that flies away

the bird you see in the sky for a moment

and then never again in your life

a fish lost in the depth of the water

that scientists have never created a ridiculous name

to be called and categorized and found and studied

and drawn into their constructed reality

of the world as they alone see it

with all the meaning created by what it means for us

how we see it, feel it, think it, how it impacts us

yes, i want to be that fish that has never been seen by the human eye

that is still free creation 

swimming in the waters, the cool and warm waters, the currents

tied to the moon

twirling with the stars 

want to feel the water on my skin

don't want to feel this weight

trapped by this weight

clothed in this weight

defined by this weight

feel bad about this weight

i want to swim free

fly free

soar in the waters and the skies free

leave this world for the forest or the sea

a place where no human being has ever seen

and when i die not ask what happened or

didn't happen or if i lived or loved

fully enough

this i is stuck in thoughts

this i is lost

this i knows too much and nothing at all

this i wears a mask

that the birds have never ever imaged is

necessary or possible

never questioning

content with, no, not even aware 

of questioning 

their feathers and scales

18 december 2009

the best vibration is love

I need to be free.

A relationship should make us

more free-

more able to be

to be

and to be free love

 free imagination

 free exploration

free to be a body

soft, warm, wounded, trying to heal,

with sometimes strained breaths

and a flickering heart

like a window not sure whether

to close 

or open

I need to be love

to lay in the earth

to touch the skins of the trees

to have my head held 

by the soil

and my eyes closed

no longer afraid

the sun shines

warming

and i am unafraid

no longer holding tight in my neck

no longer straining my face to

say don't fuck me

don't hurt me

don't break me down because of this

open vulnerability

just love me

like this earth holds my head

warm

and this sun holds my skins

and the wind holds my ears

as the sweetest sound i've heard

peace is being free in this world

free means being open

open means vulnerable

vulnerable means having faith

faith means recognizing the entirety of universe

recognition means shrinking and also expanding

in the divine fluidity that flows within us all

this fluidity is energy

energy is vibrations,

and the best vibration is love. 

9 December 2009

love-faith

love-faith

connected

need each other

if you have faith, you love

love is faith

because you are open and vulnerable and

when you do that

you can LOVE

love is the message of faith and

the reason for being alive

8 December 2009

the land

I want to know a place-

the land is our home.

we need to reconnect to the earth

8 December 2009

embers

Be hot like embers

Be free like wind

Be constant motion like water

Be still like stone

Be touching like boulders

Be light like feathers

Be falling like leaves

Be always like pines

Be wonder like wheat grains

Be potential like seed

Be depth like roots

Be balance like breath

Be joyous like me

Be vibration like sunshine

Be curious like pinecone

Be medicine like plant

Be hope like eagle

Be strong like branch

Be slow like turtle

Be hot like embers

passion while dying,

heat until the ending.

giving eternal. 

21 November 2009

dear one

dear one,

i write you love letters in my sleep

and in my waking moments

i turn to see your arrival

you are in existence, i know,

so lets hurry up and reach

one another-collide-

so we can slow down and 

sit together by the edge of the water

and dream of the times when

our souls first met

20 November 2009

at twin pines

A few weeks ago I drove to northern Minnesota, to Twin Pines, a resthome for the creative.  The following was written on 20 November 2009 while sitting next to the lake.

The beauty here is almost unsettling because it feels so much better than the places and feelings in the city.  On my drive up here today I recognized in myself that everyday all I touch is plastic and human "invented/constructed."  I know nothing of real value in the world: I don't know the birds that live in the trees that aid my breath; I don't know the touch of the soil that grows the plants and food or sits empty while awaiting/rejuvenating; I don't know the way the water flows or what is upstream or down or how deep or what the bottom would feel like on my toes; I don't know the touch of the skins of the trees; I don't know the people that live in the homes next to mine; I don't grow any of my own food; I don't know how to construct art from the beauty of the earth's materials like how to use the vibrant purples of beets to color the lambs wool or how to take a fallen tree and make a canoe or table or chair.  There are so many things I long to know and so much I know that is empty and meaningless-that will fade and destroy us.

The one true thing I do know is love.  I know the love of the sunshine and the wheat stalks and the stones on the edge of the lake.  I know the love that I feel pulsing in me waiting for the world to be right and free;  free for all beings for the wind and the leaves, the wolf and the fox, the eagle and the stone, the reeds, cattails, grass and insects.  Free for the women who love women, for for the men who are sensitive, free for each of us.  Free.

This is my hope for the world. 

remember

remember:

breath is the connection

love is the way 

5 November 2009

stars and sea

i feel so lonely as a star

spinning/burning in the wondrous darkness

i think i'm going to burn out

and this darkness will replace me

other stars will twinkle on

until the darkness too quenches them

as it eats up and 

makes invisible

the previously visible

i want to shine again

like the times i no longer remember

and dream about/curious to

the feelings that lived/be then

why this journey?

STARS AND SEAS

STARS AND SEAS

SEAS SEAS SEAS

6 November 2009

with

I want someone to celebrate life 

and talk about death with

to walk silently through the woods

and lay side by side on the twin bed with

to look at and know the

smiles in eyes

and the laughter in lips

i want someone to be true with

real with

to feel close with

and lay my body tightly next to with

to love skin with

and close eyes with

to smell with and rest my tired head with

to massage my neck with 

to touch feet with and toes with

to never worry about my looks with

to be content with and quiet with

to scream with and shout with

and love create with

to kiss as many times a day as I wish with

to really feel free with

to whisper with and tell jokes with

to settle down with and grow with

to love, love, love in every form and action and thought 

and look with

to love the ocean with

to stand on the stand with barefeet in the waves with

to bus ride the world with

to take pictures with

to photograph asleep, awake, smiling, looking unique with

to kiss neck with

to build a family with

to visit my family with

to travel with and eat food with

to share ideas with 

make music with

build art with

end war with

sit still with

stand under trees with

plant flowers with

last breath with

cry with

try new things with

lessen suffering with

remember with

always love with

love with

love with

love with

28 october 2009

conception

thinking about how conception can be the result of the union of love causes me to think about how much of the sexuality we see and participate in is pleasure driven-so much about pleasure, power, aggression, control, desire, looks-it is all so far from love and i wonder if it hurts god to see us in this manner. 

love poem

i want to write a poem about love.

i want to write a million poems about love.

i want the first and last moments of the opening and

closing of my lips to speak of love.

i want the silence of my lips touching to speak 

of love

i want each moment of each eyelashes movement to 

vibrate love

i want my waking and my sleeping my

in-between, before and after to whisper love

and i want the stillness of my sitting and the 

wildness of my dancing to shout love

i want the crossing of my legs and the pulse of

my pen on this paper to transmit love

i want to exude love from my pores as

sweat the drips from my body from love-making

i want to love and love and love and

love you and her and me and us and

i heard a poet once say that

before you can love me, you must love love-

i want to love love,

be love,

speak love,

sleep love,

beating heart love,

sing love,

laugh love,

stare love,

cry love,

touch love,

swim love,

breath love,

die love,

live love,

love love

love love

love love

LOVE.

and yet, even though i see it and feel it

in each second of my breaths,

i can't find it-can't find it in another,

can't find another to love love and love me

and love the wonder of our intimacy

and then all these poets say these beautiful things

about love and honesty and

being real with ourselves and those we love

but then they end them saying

things like "so, i'll wait for you"

"ill wait for love thats true"-

i'll wait.

and wait and wait for 

something to be real and 

honest

but these endings always leave me disappointed,

like a sign,

because why are we waiting

patiently waiting

furiously waiting

for LOVE? WHY ARE WE WAITING FOR LOVE?

WAIT FOR LOVE?

Why not just love?

and why not be love?

and why not say, "so i've stopped waiting,

because no longer will i live my life 

in the future hopes? in these fairytale 

fantasies?"

when will we say I AM COMPLETE

RIGHT NOW

because 

I AM LOVE.

i understand wanting to wait and hope and

dream and believe and fantasize,

but is that right? or is it all

a continuation of living for the future and

settling for less

23, october 2009