Out of my Control

two cups of joe
where to go
with this
and that
black liner
still under
my eyes
surprise
she's a man
he's a fan
of her song
little sparrow
short and narrow

a fiery passion
feels so horny
now i write
maybe corny
i'm speechless
with remembering
the feeling
the reliving
a past lover
slightly darker
than i remembered
but it's useless
rather pointless
to follow through
cuz when i'm through
i'll be through
again... through with you

so unsatisfied
by my hands
by my touch
i look outside
for another
warmer body
anybody?
not just some body
i'd rather dream
of the past
of something crass
than to succomb
to the dumb
to the ones
who cannot speak
from the heart
or from
the centered drum
of their souls
this is so out of my control

so i must
ask again
in what do i trust?

Music is Silence - Stillness Sings

as i stared into the heavens
the moon stared back
wondering why i was so full

i appreciated this moon equally
knowing it held no judgment
no projections, no past or future

we gazed into each other fondly
intimately accepting our current
available to the same source from which we came

i had just come from an experience
a magnificently simple evening of invitation
where sounds blended and music imprinted joy into my heart

so as i rested into its reflection
we lay sweetly into stillness
recognizing that all music begins with silence

Gathering the Remains

dare i play this game
when there nothing to gain
everything to lose?

the antagonist is who i've been made out to be
i have become the enemy
the evil - the heavy

so i gather the remains
of materials and my dignity
and this is what is left;
a green cotton t-shirt
and my love

No Apologies

I don't feel it in my gut
what you think I've done.
I'm working through my ego kinks,
ironing the shit out some very wrinkled thoughts.

You know it would be easy for me to be pissed with you,
but I'm not angry at all.
Actually, there is renewed spaciousness,
and fascinating centering.

I've been forced in silence,
because the alternative to it is unsustainable.
I've been resting,
in my living meditation,
allowing me to look from an observer's perspective.

Truth is, I make no apologies,
there isn't space in me for the dramatics.
It just doesn't feel accurate or true.
The things you're feeling,
I know they are real.
But I know that this working through you
simply isn't mine.

My heart opens to our process now.
I'm listening from that place.
I admit there is resistance,
as I have felt misunderstood,
and feel that I had been made out to be the heavy.
Most importantly,
I'm disappointed and intensely irritated.

I'm glad to have the comfort to safely explore this here,
without the need to exchange words with you,
as I continue honor my experience in silence.

My Home

there is a delicate place
this Sacred, most precious place
which speaks to us beyond sound
calling us beyond our finite existence
Infinitely available

i feel it as a pulse
between the words
before the thought
beating
breathing
holding me-holding us
holding our hands in times of blindness
with eyes closed or open
it is ever-present
we are born from it
and so it is known
guiding us into the fearless
into the safety of the surrender
asking us all,
"In what do we trust?"

i felt it
as it rattled and quivered
as it laughed and danced into wildness
and as it returned and rested into natural balance
i was caressed by it

and then i traveled to the cosmos
playing amongst the stars
innocently swimming through the galaxies
spinning into the mysteries
the unknown regions
only once did I return
in a moment of disbelief
"Surely the cosmos could not be me!"
too large for the mind to conceive
it shook me
my insides trembled

but only for a moment

in a listening attention
i felt the steadying
i simply suckled that shivering child
wrapped my arms around it
and again the Universe was not separate from me
the galaxies danced
and the stars and i were One
in harmony
nurtured and immersed in benevolent love

i know this place,
it is my home