she walks in beauty –
a whirlwind of gold-dust
Heads swivel bop and beads drop in hot summer moonshine
and the charade
up and down
pretty girl –
what you do, out late nights
and captain’s last call was an hour into your future nightmare
young boys are restless thieves
with unjustifiable dreams
pretty young lives
make the girl squeam
And they come – those animals
filthy and finite in the shadows
they carve out her reverence
and leave a hollow tin can in its place
she’s filled with kindness
(the kind that hates)
she gives everything she’s got
(sating their need to relentlessly take)
on the brink
her heart is empty –
like a plucked grenade
now slipping away
“She walked in Beauty, that Girl”
is what they would say
self-proclaimed Queen of the Night
but the child cries by day.
-Written in Summer, 2003
Waiting to Be
Roots spring from a seed
Wavering, tottering, teetering Me
Going through motions
I struggle to See
Under a Balsamic Moon
Lord Karma’s delight
Guilt torments my days
Haunting dreams by night
In the light of day
Disfigures my plans
Plan it and place it
Spark sacred Fire there
Channel and chase all the thoughts I find
Of skeptical caps of the skulls in the grove
And the cold grip of Fate
Glistening moist in the snow
Until the Dark gives in to Light’s
Scratching in the night
Peek through clenched hands
Hanging on but barely keeping time
I bide mine
Waiting to Be
-Written sometime in 2008
Pluto Retrograde: Rooting Out My Dark Side
I am what I see.
I am ignorant.
I am trying not to see what I am trying to see.
I am stuck.
I am responsible for my current state of consciousness.
I am the master of my fate – blind or otherwise.
Do I dare to look inside and see the reality of who I am vs. who I pretend to be?
I wear a mask of strength.
I am intolerant of weakness…because I am weak.
I am weak.
I am strong because I am weak.
I am weak nonetheless, and must accept this fact as my truth.
I can live with this.
I have pain that I cannot name.
I do not know where it begins or where it ends.
I have weakness that I cannot heal and this makes me angry.
I disguise feelings of jealousy with self-righteousness.
I am jealous, at this very moment, of other people’s happiness.
This makes me feel very small and very sad.
There is a hole on my heart and this hurts.
I have never thought of myself as a jealous person.
This has been my ongoing perception of myself.
This perception is incorrect and has only served to bolster my ego and cause me more suffering.
I do not wish to suffer this deceit any longer so I am hereby releasing my mask of self-confidence and bravado and admitting to myself that I am weak.
This makes me strong.
I have done terrible things to myself and for this I am sorry.
My deepest desire is to deliver myself from this self-inflicted anger and treat myself with greater kindness and respect.
If I can nurture my weakness and shortcomings instead of torturing myself for not being good enough then I have a chance to become whole.
I would like this very much.
I have been blessed with many gifts and have spurned these blessings as a Born-Again Christian curses the Devil.
This has been a grave sin against my soul and I am weak because I never took the chances offered to me.
The word sin means to “miss the mark” when literally translated from the Ancient Greek the New Testament was written in. In sin I miss the point of human existence and live blindly.
I believe that I have done this and it has caused me to suffer and live in disfunction.
I am sorry for this but realize that I needed to learn this way.
This has been my confession.
I am going to publish it because I know that if I feel this way then others must too.
I do not want to live in fear of expressing my true feelings about myself, even if those feelings are shame.
I am ashamed of many behaviors and thoughts.
I own it: it is mine.
My desire is to take this shame out of its dark closet and look at it in the light.
I will look clearly at it, for it is a part of me and that is fine.
Darkness cannot exist where there is light.
Tonight I invited my Shadow to join me. I try to coax her gently out of the closet, but it is a bitch getting her out of there under all the years of accumulated “stuff” I’d thrown on top of her. I think Shadow was surprised by my warm (teary) smile. She stands acknowledged and respected now – as family ought to be- and I’ve got a refreshing glass of iced tea waiting for her out on the front porch. I give her a hug and let her know I’ve decided to introduce her to the world. It is nice to see her.
-Diary Entry: Written June, 2009
Wings of Bondage
Set me free
Sail over wet lands
Sweet teary Sun,
So bravely shining…
How does the lustful observer gain passage?
Some mystical vessel, set sail on the stars?
Where is the portal?
Fluted engines drive me on
My path is still unclear
I’ve travelled infinite miles
Over thousands and thousands of years.
–Short Poem, Written March, 2009