Category Archives: Letting Go

Repass.

Darkness recedes as
Light enters slits –
Heavy-lidded opening –
And all is peace
For one moment.
There is no suffering
Nor pain as all is
Disconnected wholly
From fleshy receptors.
My bones are great
Limbs of some
Ancient tree and
Divorced from consciousness
As I reside somewhere
Outside of myself –
Miraculously.
For a few blissful
Moments I am unaware
That I am –
Merely some wisp
Already entombed
And not yet birthed –
Suspended in possibility.
Pain is no longer pain,
But great bolts of
Sharpness:
Darkness –
Like black boulders
Lodged in spaces
Where energy should flow.
By grace
I slip back
Into the void
And my light
And your light
Dance together
Outside of the limits
Of time and space
As we plot our rebirth.
We are close now –
It’s almost done.
The world will grieve
And we will be free.

Crowned.

This heaviness in gaia’s
Pelvis
As this new child
Of heaven and earth
Crowns;
And old stories
Emerge
To foreshadow
Past foreboding,
Hoping to control
And to give shape
To formless
Becoming
Form.
We taste the light
Like honey,
And walk in sway
To that angelic tune
And keeping pace
With the unheard.
We’re not pretending –
Though you would
Never believe
Reality as it
Occurs
Within us.
We see through
The unseen,
And undo the undone,
And watch the
Undertow as chaos
Bend and flow
Into something
Predictable-akin.
Our doing
Is simply being,
As purpose
Flows
Through us
As you.
We experience
That which only
Those ancients and others
May decipher
As future forgotten
Truth.
Release the grip of the past,
That old uncertain path.
Let go of what was
Before;
For we never shall
Need her again.
Children dream
Of new creation,
And masses cry
Enmasse
For relief.
We can touch
And taste and
Sense it,
Though quite out
Of sight and
Far from belief.
Forget what was
If it’s truly unwanted.
Let go if
Expired is the need.
Put away
This bridegroom’s
Fair garment,
Twas rent in twain
Under false pretense.
We carry our codes in our skins,
And each combination
Part and piece of the whole.
Wheat falls to the
Priestess’s storehouse,
As chaff scatters
Away in dark winds.

Division.

We tell stories
Of theys and thems
But “not me”,
And divide into
Sheep and asleep:
Others and outsiders.
We pretend we’re
A separate kind
And not takers
From the common
Provision and plan.
We walk in
Our hubris lock steps,
And thumb our noses
At the masses
Amassing outside
Babylon’s picket fences.
We march as legion
Pretending allegiance
To higher virtue
And nobler
(Even off-planet)
Law.
We invent new
Labels to label
Our labels by,
And place ourselves
Above our fellows
By standards invented
To displace blame.
We make up stories
Of supernatural
Superpowerful
And sovereign
Graces,
Which place us on
Platforms built
By spiritual egoic
Cloudforms in chloroform –
Pretending to live
In other dimensions,
To ignore what’s been
Agreed to and done
By all of the
“Not me’s”
Scattering like fleas
Thirsting for a
Dog with new tricks.
From whence is your
Savior come due?
Do you imagine
You will be alone
In that boat
Being towed on
Hallucinogenic seas?
Do you imagine
Yourself
Pure and safe
In your rebellion
From the insanity
Of the sane?
How long since
You listened to
Your brother?
Acknowledge we’re
In the same ship,
Hurling through the
Abyss around
The same hurdles,
Which we place
In our own pathways
In our resistance;
Our attachment
To persistence,
Though we recognize
The old ways
Left over
From old days,
Brought us to this
Gloomy place.
Denial of what is
Will not save us.
Nor will doomsday
“Light the bitch up”
Drunken nihilists
Enjoying their own wake
Before death claims
His due.
Blindly begging on
Bended knee
While expecting
Some authority to
Deliver –
How many divisions
Can be counted
While those who
Profit are counting
On long-division
Exponentially
Producing
More and the same.
Look to old
Dead prophets
Dust and ash
Spewing forth
From thier graves.
Unheeded omen
Ring hollow,
Devolved humanity’s
Voice
Ring true.
There are no
Others,
Your mirror be
Broken;
But the projection
Remains –
One body,
One soul,
One You!

Apart.

If we’d chosen it
We could have held each other
As the world descended
Into madness;
We could have
Made sense of
The senseless –
Simply sensing what
Our own bodies,
And hearts,
And minds,
And souls,
Breathed between us.
We could have –
If we’d only chosen –
Written our own
Reality
Independent of any
Need for the
Simulated stories
And hearsays,
Claiming as proof
That which the
Sounds of our
Own heartbeats
Proved to us.
If we’d only chosen,
We could have
Made shelter in
Brambles and thickets
And bathed in warm pools
And foraged for sustenance,
Even just for
An afternoon
Away from the concrete
Confinement, housing
Television and internet
Bouncing off the backs
Of our eyeballs –
Feeding the fears
With invisible stuff
Stuffed into the
Ethers where
God’s angles
Mutter utterances
Into the machine
Still churning
The swill drank
By good churchfolk,
As flesh and blood
Pleas for safe
Passage through these
Times,
And punishment
For imaginary crimes
Committed by the
Good folk who
Walk thier own paths
Awry
Apart from the
Not yet departed.
We could have
Just gone fishing
And let the sun set
On humanity’s
Debate,
Humming like crickets
Who haven’t decided
To feed themselves
To fishes.
We could have just
Made a simple choice
Listening to the only
Voice
That mattered –
That frequency
Humming between us
Wherein we seemed
To always understand
Without speaking.
You wanted us apart
And the world
Has literally gone
Mad
Since that day.

Let Go.

Do you remember
What the world was like
Before you were told
Toughen up,
Be strong,
Be bad,
Be savage;
Hold it in,
Don’t cry,
Don’t show weakness,
Don’t let even one person
Get over on you,
Get into your heart,
Or into your mind
Or into your lane.
Do you remember
Sweetness
And cuddles
And warmth
And freedom?
Do you remember
How it felt to
Just be:
Summer dewy grasses
Tickling bare feet
And birds singing
Tinkly-chortle-songs
Through verdant trees?
Do you remember
Trust
And faith,
Before they took from
You childhood’s grace?
Do you recall
The breath of the
Breeze
And the smell of
Wet metal
After precipitant
Release?
Can you travel
Backwards,
Eyes closed,
Breath held
For just another
Sweet moment
And be the you
From your birth;
Without the quills
Sewn under your
Skin by others
As phantom-protection
From artificially
Mass produced
Illusory dangers –
Thier screams rising
To crescendo
Please let us go!
Step out of
Your fear
Look around you
And see
The world as she is
Quite nurturing.
The battles are
Fought
Mostly inside
In spite of
The make-believe
Dramas told
Round cold tv light.

Wait.

This woman was no weakling
And never needed carrying
Nor tending to;
She was raised
Carrying the weight
Of her brothers and sister
Bearing the weight
Of her parents’
Backwards age.
She did not need
Affections or attention,
As she was quite used
To feeding her own
Tender heart
Kept safely confined
Within sinewy wrapped
Iron bones.
She never needed
Reassurances or emotional
Patting, petting, or prodding;
She was born with
Fire under foot
Moving her ever
In a direction
Far from the place
Of her birth.
She needed no weapons,
No armor was required;
For she preferred the
Cool calm
Of watching from shadows
Until measured and
Careful steps may take.
She listened to hear
And watched to see
And carefully calculated
Future moves.
She had no memorized rules
Of the games she played
Yet played them
With expertise.
She had no need
For disguise;
For the ugliness
She bore on the
Outside
Disguised well
The purity of her
Heart and soul.
She had no use for
Deception or lies
For most common people,
She found,
Were fooled enough
By their own
Doubt and denial
Of what was
Plain truth.
She would not wait –
And yet
She found herself
Quite confounded
Befuddled
Puzzled
And bemused
As those who seemed
To speak truths
In common with hers,
Who claimed
To love the purity
Which was housed inside
The bones surrounding
Her loyal heart,
And who swore
Oaths of fealty
To stand beside her
And to build together
A peasant empire
Custom made
For an imperfect two –
Danced their way
Free of their own
Carefully told deceit
By manufacturing ever
More betrayal
Like long ribbons
Furiously spinning
And flurryingly,
Flying,
In the air between them.
She closed her eyes
And sank into
Her marriage bed
And surrendered to the sleep
Of the dutiful bride.
Ophelia sleep-walking
Poppied breath and
Lidded eyes turned inward.
She wove her sinewy cage,
Her human-boned corset,
Tight around her
And handed the reigns
To her phantom-sister
As she dreamt of the
Gilded dirk which
Would finally free her.
She had never any need
For weapons
Nor armor
Nor disguise
Nor deception
Nor lies –
In her rebirth she
Would re-learn
How to be that
Fair and foolish
Maid:
But with open eyes
And cold stone heart
And watchful glare
And questioning mind
And patient stillness
And measured,
Shallow,
Breath.
She waits.
She’ll never allow
Herself to be rescued
For kidnappers and
Knights
Share the same
Silhouettes.
She’ll never allow
Herself full
Release
Nor submission
For that fairy tale
Was told and exposed
Lifetimes past.
She’ll never pretend
To be stupid
Or soft
Or innocent
And barter her intellect
For protection.
She can not bear
Another nightmarish
Sleep.
That social construct
Which makes her into property
Will not do.
And she’ll not
Play the games required
To win a noble heart
From a scared boy
Hiding behind
High walls and
Booby-trapped fields.
Come willingly
Or stay where you are.
She’ll not live
By so many rules
Which were written
By the hands of the
Afeared.
She waits.

Photo credit: Clayton, R. P. (2021). Photographs of Sand Grain Sizes. Virginia Beach, VA. https://news.tcc.edu/rodney-clayton/

Everything.

Your marks were
Invisible
But permanent.
I catch them
In glimpses
Dragged hastily
Across the mirror
Like my old
Bathrobe
Draped carelessly
Over my homework chair.
Sunlight moves
In just the right angle
And I wince
At the memory
Which strikes
That bottom-left
Corner of my mind
Releasing phantom
Memory pain.
There is an alternate
You and me
Moving through the
Kitchen of my consciousness
Still drinking coffee
And laughing
The way it was
Supposed to be –
The way we both wanted it.
If we’d chosen
Differently,
Would the world
Now be at peace,
Or would we be
In pieces?
Wishing things
To be different
Does not make
Them whole,
And makes us
Wholly insane and incapable
Of any true authentic
Exchange.
I would have changed
Everything
To have
Everything
The same.

Once in Awhile

Once in awhile
I wish that I could
Tell you things
Like how it
Really wasn’t about
You
And how you helped me
Even now
You help me
Without even being near me.
Once in awhile
I wish that I could
Show you
How much better it is
Now
How much better I am
Doing without you.
Once in awhile
I wish that I could
Explain to you
All that’s happening
How things have been
Blossoming
Like that tree I planted
The day I last saw you.
Once in awhile
I wish that I could
Express to you
The way my voice
Came in
The day that I told
You how I felt about
You
How I believed in us
Even the separate us
Because that was what
You wanted.
Once in awhile
I wish
And let go
Because I know
Some wishes
Live better
In our hearts
And die
When they meet
The icy stare
Of reality.
Once in awhile
I feel as if
I could still
Change it
If only I
Believed harder
In the unbelievable.
Once in awhile
I still wonder
If what I’m missing
Ever really was,
Really there.

Allowable.

You’re allowed to take up space.
You’re allowed to show your face.
You’re allowed to be heard.
You’re allowed to be seen.
You’re allowed to be angry
And to seethe with righteous rage.
You’re allowed to feel broken
While you wait for the pain
To subside into healing
And to rest and to cry and to
Give in to dark tides
And to be weak
And to feel small.
You’re allowed to be emotional
Or emotionless
Or stale – stuck on a feeling
You can’t seem to escape.
You’re allowed to be loud.
You’re allowed to scream
With wild beasts
The words composed by your heart
As it beats sonnets
To you in private –
That pulse your
Private inward universe –
The inverse of
What’s typically acceptably known –
Singing you awake
As you take a moment
To plan your next play.
You’re allowed to be
Exactly where you are
For as long as you choose
To be exactly You –
Whichever You –
You choose to show up as.
And you’re allowed to
Decide –
Where to go to from here.
You can rest
You can withdraw
You can be silent –
Saying everything
By saying nothing at all.
You’re allowed to run forward
Swift as March winds,
To gallop with wild mares
Or soar o’er verdant trees
Slooping and looping
Through currents high
Above blues and greens
In that space between
Space and cottony clouds.
You’re allowed to
Roll slow
Like innocent brooks
Sunning and tumbling
Slipping over sand and silt
Gentle treasure flowing
Steady and enjoying the view.
You’re allowed to sleep,
To surrender
To that dark unknown,
To slip into that space
Beyond wakeful control.
You’re allowed to not know,
To not plan,
To not strive,
To not measure,
To not compare,
To not push,
To not try.
You’re allowed grace.
You’re allowed love.
You’re allowed peace.
You’re allowed tender embraces
And sweet breathy sighs.
You’re allowed ease.
You’re allowed to just be.
Be.

Wishful Thinking.

If there’d been
A way
I’d have found it.
If there’d been
A choice
I’d have made it.
If there’d been
More time
I’d have held it.
If there’d been
More clarity
I’d have seen it.
If there’d been
Less confusion
I’d have been
More decisive.
If I’d seen sooner
I’d have chosen
Something different.
If there’d been
More –
More
I’d have held onto it.
It was so wrong
In all the
Right ways
But wishful
Thinking
Doesn’t create
A happier ending
From something
Started with someone
Who was never
Really
Meant to stay.

Antihero.

You were a mistake
I enjoyed making
Though if I could
Do it again,
I’d have done
It in a different
Order – let the
Growing come first
Let the healing
Precede the wound.
But perhaps it
Was only our trauma
Which between us
Grew into something
Intense and temporary.
It’s one of life’s
Dichotomies
A grand conspiracy
Which says the shortest
Stories burn the
Hottest and the doomedest
Anti-heroes are the most
Heroic.

Love and Light.

Love and light
I send unto you,
Not for you but
For me.
Though there is
No fault nor
Blame,
Though there is
No cause to feel
Shame –
I send love and
Light because
All disruption
Lives within
Me.
There’s no
Pain you’ve
Caused me nor
Hurt that I’ve felt
That you could ever
Undo.
If anyone is
Holding onto the
Poison,
It’s me.
I may have every
Reason
And every justified
Excuse,
But my soul
Longs to sing
A higher pitch.
I cannot return
To the heights that
I crave
With this anchor
I’m holding
Within.
I remember the
Wound and the
Wounding,
And anger returns with
A fire –
So I stoke the
Embers and
Utilize
Their ferocity to
Carry the light.
I smile and send
Love.
I send light because
That’s my right.
I’m connected
By my soul’s
DNA to the
Infinite source of
Love –
There’s never an
Empty well,
There’s never a
Dark night.
I cannot exhaust
What flows freely,
What’s given without
Condition or
Due.
So when I think
Of how another’s
Wronged me,
I send love
And light
And feel my spirit
Return to her
Place of
Peace within.

Return.

When it was
Black or white
There were
Two choices,
Obey or
Else it’s a
Sin.
All of the horrors
That came from
Other’s
Voices
“Thou shalt not”s
“You are born
Corrupt
Within!”
Birthed into a
World filled with
Evil,
Where every devilish
Delight
Looks a friend,
Fading to
Nothing
To somehow
Fit in.
Beaten
By other’s
Yardsticks,
Stopping so
The punishment
Might end.
Learn to navigate
Life
Lived lonely,
Where even friends
Are playing
Pretend.
Learn to study
And measure
The cracks to
Fall through
As defense.
Learn to
Sneak
And slither,
Learn to watch
Others fall,
Learn to wait
With patience,
Learn to
Listen to all.
Hear words
With pure meanings
And see actions
As they are,
Learn to hang back
And wait
Watching
As the storybook
Rules
Are broken by
New laws.
Lean against
The tree of
Their savior
And feel what it
Was to give
Everything
To thier unanswered
Call.
Then turn to
Your own gentle
Neighbor
And see the confusion,
Minds spinning
To solve –
Each and every
Dilemma
Through rules
Meant for
Ancients;
Hear the words
“I die
So you may live.”
Whose life
Are you living?
To whom are you
Giving?
What’s your
Choice now?
What do you
Desire?
If it’s wealth
That you seek
Go and get it.
If it’s peace,
Lay down your
Arms.
If it’s love
You want
Be open,
If it’s happiness
Then that’s
Also your job!
The world is
Helpful and
Changing
Ever to accommodate
Our desires.
The question
Was lost in
Translation
It was never
“What will you
Give?”
The question
That life begs
To pardon:
“What is it that
Your loving
Heart desires?”
Blacks and whites
Work for those
Who want nothing,
Who need little
From life but
To feel safe.
Blacks and whites
Give comfort
To scared
Children
Who cannot
Believe in
Themselves.
Play the game
Of my daddy
Can beat
Yours,
Or play the
Game of
This is my choice.
My father
Is a
Gentle man
Of peace,
And we all
Preferred it
That way.
“Billy said his
Dad can beat you
But I told him
You’re the best”
My father chuckled
And shook his
Head
“I don’t want
To beat anyone up.
I probably could
But that’s not
My job.”
Next time Billy
Spoke of my father,
I told him
“My dad doesn’t
Want to beat yours.”
Billy said my dad
Was too scared
Hoping to keep
Me engaged.
I walked away.
Those who
Only know
Violence
Can imagine life
No other way,
And those who
Live life gentle
Are free to choose
How to play.
Love started
Freely given
To others at war
With all haste
Thinking they would
Love me peaceful
If only shown
There’s no need
To be afraid.
It was never
About an exchange,
Love was never
A commodity.
But the love
I desired
Was empty
And so I
Patiently wait.
My mother was
My own secret
Weapon
For those who
Would not
Hear the whisper
Of peace.
She’s quieter now
As we both
Stand on this
Shore
And wait for
The return
Of brave and gentle
Noble King.

Christmas Eve.

The hour draws near
And there are tests
Yet to take
And the test maker
Is away from her
Post.
The substitute has
Charms,
More than a few,
And the time is
Growing late.
There are distractions
Beguiling
And tempting,
Diversions
Plentiful await,
But the rewards
Are intrinsic aplenty
And pure intention
Carry me
Through.
So I retreat
To familiar
Abode –
Second home
When childhood
Was drifting
Afar –
And seeking the
Calm and the silence
Just before the test
Is due.
It’s dim here
The light is fading,
So I’ll locate
The switch
On the wall,
And just as miraculous
As electricity,
The new perspective
Reveals
A Christmas Surprise!
Balloons come to life
By lamplight
And rise to meet
Heaven’s walls
And in the
Excitement and flurry
Distract from the
Fancily wrapped
Gifts scattered
Inside.
I rush to the nearest
And most festive
And lift the label
To read
And there scrawled
In blue ink:
From a dear
Friend’s widower
To one who once
Was my all.
Surveying the other
Packages,
I knew instant
And immediately
No labels bore
My name;
No gifts here
Were meant for me.
I wanted to play
With those others
But chose myself
Instead,
And gifts
Offered for another
Seemed almost to
Derail.
Now awake I
Ponder my vision,
What could the omen
Mean?
The instrument
Of my labor
Was never intended for
Me.
It was a joy
To be paid to
Play,
It was a thrill
To craft and hone,
But most importantly
It was a testament
To the power
Of what a tiny
Measure of belief
Can do.
For one who’d forgotten
To dream,
For one whose
Pragmatism
Was a smokescreen
For judgement and blame,
For one who
Believed himself
In prison,
I showed him
To freedom
By other means.
I never doubted what
I’d not learned to
Doubt,
It never occurred
To me I’d
Ever fail.
I chose the environment
For my studies –
I chose to prepare
To test well.
I chose the comfort
Of familiar,
I chose to doubt
Anything could be
For me.
I chose to be
About my own
Business,
I chose to see
To my own
Concerns,
And when I was
Confronted
By misgiven gifters,
I nearly
Allowed myself
To sink into
Self-pity;
I nearly chose to
Forsake it all.
The secret about
Gifts is in the
Sharing –
None benefit from
Binding them
In wrapping and
Bows.
Even gifts addressed
To another
Create magic
To be felt
And exquisitely
Expressed
By all.
No gifts can
Ever be misgiven,
No time is ever
A waste;
No choice can
Be the wrong one,
No love is
Ever in vain.
Back onto
Bigger and better,
I’ve grander
Business to see to.
My choice is
Value and substance,
Trifles
Never will do.

Christmas eve morning my son woke me up mid-dream just as I was reading the label on a blue gift which was wrapped with very gaudy foil-wrap. I spent a good part of the day deciphering what the dream meant to me.

Foreigner.

Writhing vines
And crunchy leaves
And twisted
Snarly snares
Bare witness to
Her treasonous
Trespass,
While
All the while
A surly
Landskeeper slumbers
In his shed,
His head
Drowned in absinthe
And anise dreamscapes
Divine.
Maiden fair
Untended,
Intended,
Betrothed to the
Snapdragons
And dandelions,
A blanket of
Pollen
Her dowry,
Into crickety
Rickety
Canoe
Climbs.
She gathers her
Skirts
Of baby’s breath
And fastens a veil
Of honeysuckle,
And pushes
Off into
The wintry winding
Bubbling
Babbling
Brook.
In Ophelia’s
Repose she
Exhales a lilac
Breeze.
Hawthorne’s
Child
No longer,
That ambrosia
Formulary
Forgot to unbind
And found itself
Apoptosetic;
The inner clock –
Dickery-dock –
Does chime.
Time’s hands
Turn back
Like windmills
Unfettering
Millstones
Long tied,
They slip-
Drop splishy-
Splash-splosh
Like unhitched
Anchors
Into the depths
Left behind.
Gentle current
Carry this maid
Steady forward
As the winding
River widens
And bends
Round tangerine
Clouds stretched through
Indigo skies.
Those yester-shores
Now are foreign
And old tongues
Twisted to
Dialects new,
And slumbering
Landskeepeers
Forgotten,
And multi-chromatic
Schematics lose
Their hue.