they're just numbers

Four cups of tea, two
pieces of toast and
three hours of good
cryin’ later, confused
I can’t stop the words
or the writing; all day
with the writing. My
wrists feel slit and
fingers numbing,
can’t stop feeling,
can’t stop thinking.

Honestly, I have to ask
myself if more would
be known in fifty-two
conversations than three.
And I answer yes cause
it took sixteen years
for me to know the last
but he didn't share did he
until now after two years
of being someone else's.

auras

Auras in flight
like lights
sparkly, almost
palpable
hazy shades
in overlay. I
see too much
too quick and
quickening
comes the beat
of a little heart
blushed peach.

second spirit

One morn late this week
I took off his ring, then
set aside his spirit
that I carried these
almost four years
past and eased
the weights from my
shoulders. Unwound,
unbound, freed after
all too long of a self
imposed imprisonment
I walked about
a little lost, no longer
did the second spirit speak.

chance II

Stop, stop,
I cannot read your words
of dreams and love
Though they are
unintentional
in thier cruelty they
show me what I don't have
can't have, may never find.
And I admit the desire,
the hope of wanting
the chance to see
if I could be that for you.

In limbo 'tween spark
and none, I had hoped...

we would for I was
atleast quite taken.

chance

I didn’t know what I was doing
but when you see a man as he lay
dying by your hand somehow
your despair becomes impassioned,
your promises prophetic.

And yet who was to know the depth
at which the psyche would wield
it’s governances when I took on

his frail spirit and swore

I will know no anger again
(as I did at God
when he faced me with
the taking a life) nor be the brunt;
I will be no less than happy,
(cherished, validated,
desired, unlike the life known
thus far, found lacking,
in need of want);
I will nourish my curious nature,
mind, heart, spirit
(leave no stone unturned
no chance unexplored);
I will live life to it’s fullest,
emoting expressively as I moan
and bleed
my soul like ink
on paper
and the scratch, scratch the pen
makes, my very being will I whore.

But chance;
it’s like an open door
and the coming to it, inspiration,
the getting of a glimpse, divinity and yet
now and again, my verve and
exuberance bruised
when suddenly it slams and promises
I made lay
unfulfilled.

My heart breaks, second spirit stirring as

sadly it is not the chance I mourn
or the person left unexplored
but loss like the unrealized absence
of a lover’s touch after being warmed,
like the lives I have known that passed,
like the thought of slow decay,

like promises I never should have have made
and burdens I never should have bourne.

I drove east into the sun

Glass almost as good as
summer’s heat on hot concrete
as I drove east into the sun
almost full up in the sky
this winter’s mid-morn.

I was reminded of a solemn youth
torn ‘twixt two lovers courting;
dreams filled with calm and coolness,
days lit with warmth and gentle lulling.
Thanos came with his promise of peace
and yet whose passion would I keep but Ra?

Give of thyself in
substance and depth,
let not the frivolities
bind but drink deep
from the well of souls
surrounding us with
valor and affording us
actual validation.

“The prison of the world has crossed the threshold and it overturned the order of the soul…”
~ Leonard Cohen

I
Eyes half lidded,
hot tea too sweet,
I write too late in a
drugged out stupor
from too much sleep
of midday napping
and the recollection
of dreams too real;
flesh and moonlight.

I swear
the flesh -
palpable,
tactile -
I could

feel

the warmth and passion,
shivering from loss
as I awoke in a cold sweat...

fever again, so tired...

II
This way comes one
in glorious valor slain
to the halls of Valhalla
looking for the ferryman
to take him yonder.

I am not the ferryman.
but Valhalla’s distant shore.

I
Have you ever seen
someone’s soul, gleaned
the slightest glimpse
mesmerized by lips
and the sparkle in their eye…

been so utterly taken
with their beauty whole
in being you could weep?

II
If I could have a crush
allow my heart to sap
infatuously sweet
and nauseating crap…
ha! It would be for you.

III
But
there’s a price to being
strong ne’er fleeting
and would you have me
any other way?

Through self-efficacy
I seek validation in one
whose very being validates
the sun and shines
at least half as bright as I.

IV
It’s a brave
new
world
and dreams are meant
to come to fruition,
to be lived…

enlightenment

Yule is the Capricorn’s solstice
a time of enlightenment and settling
of spirit. It is not the New Year’s
resolution but yuletide that brings
me into molten golden hues
of a sunlit soul evolving.

Turtle clan, year of the rooster,
more than my share of life’s
peccadilloes surmounted, just a few
of an infinitesimal number of details
convergent to create the whole of me.

Allowing me to become, to form…

I am the Capricorn reborn, reformed.

Somewhere, somehow I took heed
of what the universe was saying and
finally I see the messages around me;
finally have I come to b-e-l-i-e-v-e
in the connectivity of all things.