The Companion

it is only the second day of the new year,
and i wonder why am i here?
why didn’t i just disappear?
feel so ….
invisible and disposable,
useless and directionless.

alas, been in this place many times before,
so i know well the score:
and this, too, shall pass.
the question is
how long will it last?

Another Year

Twelve months,
fifty-two weeks
three hundred sixty-five days,
eight thousand seven hundred sixty hours,
f
ive hundred twenty-five thousand six hundred minutes

gone
over
done.

A door is closing,
another is opening.
A time for reflection,
a clean slate.
Lessons learned,
goals to re-make.

We know what was
and wonder as to what will be.
What will spill over
from last year to this?
What and who will give way,
create space
for something
new
unexpected
completely transformative?

A mystery, the New Year;
seems to come sooner and sooner
with each passing year-
little time to catch one’s breath
before it’s on to the next!
Perhaps, a good thing,
this perceived speed
with which the years roll by-
less thinking
and worrying,
more being
and accepting.

What will be, will be.
We cannot control
what is destiny.

On the cusp
of a New Year,
we set intentions
and then
humbly
release them,
surrendering all;
taking it
breath by deep breath
minute by precious minute.
Living
fully
in every moment as
hours grow into days,
days become weeks,
weeks give way to months.

And
suddenly
we begin again
and anew.

 

Silence is A Song

Sometimes
silence
speaks louder 
than words.

So much
can be heard
listening
from the space
that binds
the human race.

Energy feels more
poignant
in deep silence;
vocabulary is more expanded.

Silence is not the
absence of sound,
no, more the concentration
of the profound.

An unmasking of sorts,
in silence,
we stand in the nude-
fully exposed-
nowhere to hide
nowhere to go-
a straight line
in lieu of
a circuitous route

A-sexual

A-sexual,
this is what
it can feel like
to be menopausal.

What use to be 
exquisitely
sensitive 
has deadened.
no amount of 
stimulation
will it 
reawaken.

not one for
medication,
I bide my time
with 
meditation.
Such is Life:
The Lord giveth
and He taketh
away and then
returneth
another day,
as per
His Way.

Voice

It is a
courageous
conscious

Choice

for a woman to use her Voice
to speak her Truth
from the root
of her pain
and shame
at relenting
to an old patriarchal
game
that would have her use
sex
for financial gain.
A decision that then
drives her mad,
utterly insane,
a mute
filled to overflow
in self-disgust and deep blame;
a sad dimming of her Glow,
her innate beauty she can no longer see,
feeling more like a mere commodity
to be bought and sold.

Without a Voice,
her story left untold,
passing The Burden
onto the next generation.

Dark Chocolate

I see You.

You have no clue

what your entity

unleashes

within

me.

Instantaneously,

the heat rises

from underneath.

Familiar stirrings,

deep yearnings,

salivation

follows

thoughts of salvation

in the form of sweet sensations

found in your arms

and between your thighs.

You

the color and smell of darkest chocolate,

the taste of an elegant wine,

the touch and feel of a Man at his prime.

Alas, you have no clue

what it is you do,

how I perceive of you.

Two Friends

Two Friends

on a beach

walking,

talking,

planning,

dreaming,

birthing

their visions

into existence.

One Friend,

compelled by her Soul’s necessity;

The Other,

moved by an insatiable curiosity.

Both,

desiring to leave behind

an indelible legacy-

to inspire,

empower,

unleash creativity;

to free the masses

from contraction and boredom

by en-couraging

expansion and freedom!

These two friends

on that beach

were destined to meet,

brought together

by old friends

now deceased.

The story continues

until it is

complete.

 

 

 

The Wave

i must see myself

as part of The Wave,

not some outlier to be saved

from this swarm of humanity

and its seeming insanity.

to most every body,

this frenzied activity

is really quite ordinary.

though, not to me

a Soul that craves

tranquility;

the one that runs from the grind,

just trying to find

much less human density.

must do so quickly,

lest risk immediate psychic misery.

“Oh Lord, help me to perceive differently,”

i pray, so that i may longer stay

in the place where i am free,

not enslaved by a trickster ego

playing devious jokes on me!

America

“O, yes, I say it plain, America never was America to me. And yet I swear this oath-America will be!” Langston Hughes

 

My country

strives to be

a sweet Land of Liberty,

a Crown of Beauty,

from sea to shining sea-

an example

a beacon

to other countries

and peoples

to witness

the possibility

of beloved community

amidst vast diversity,

of justice

amidst adversity,

of kindness

in the midst of such plenty.

America,

this grand, young experiment

in democracy-

governance

of

for

by

We, The People.

Still struggling with its meaning,

back and forth, we go;

to and fro,

from the high

to the very low.

Another birthday,

America 

tentatively celebrates,

expressing gratitude

for what is good.

While also cultivating

a firm commitment

to manifesting

for all

that which is

honorable,

innocent,

hopeful

within the

imperfect,

complex,

uncomfortable

experiment

that gave birth to a nation

of immigrants.