luscious overgrowth varies eloquently

at once a calm ensues
all the valleys too full
brimmed over oceans
and i learn to swim
i head there to here
and eyes follow and disappear
i dress in the light of the dawn
has there ever been a union of two suns?
cosmos blanket and fold infinitely
and the fires burn through the cold
i don’t see those eyes anymore
they blinked away with a passing comet
as Hercules winks from above
my dress has evaporated to dusk

lachrymose oaf vacates ebullience

these tears that fall
oh, these are the tears that fall
as they collect petals
and drape themselves in feathers
the sliding ground
and her valleys swing
a cradle, a rocking chair…
it all just keeps beginning
these tears that fall
fall with the rain
i suppose it might be mine
i suppose we’re one in the same

I am at Peace with The Living I’ve Done

I’m not impressive in your thoughts
I seem to become
some mailable taffy in your eyes
something needing to be wrapped up
a little too neatly
for my mess seems like a chore
as if this is a mess
as if I am a mess
as if all this life I’ve lived
will become your mess
I am at peace with the living I’ve done
I am at ease within my own atmosphere
however disastrous it all seems
I still sail
I continue picking up what is necessary
and leaving behind what is not
I enjoy living
and I know
it’s enough

As an Offering to/for Someone

I eat to nourish this body
I move to marry my breath
with this spirit
to solidify not to modify
according to nothing
I speak when I choose to
I listen always
I move to marry this body
to this earth
to live in this body
on this earth
make myself into an offering?
for a void, of a hunger
that is whirling on your mouth?
you have been mistaken
you have misinterpreted me
I exist as I exist
and you need to begin
to remove that error from your person
or are you so enamored
with just devouring others?

I Negotiate with My Body and Spirit Everyday

to admit it or not
there’s always a give and take
the symbiotic dance
of the electrical waves
lapping to a red, beating drum
while this body moves
as this spirit flickers and glitters
I don’t collect medals
I don’t crave a mantle to rest on
I am a moving temple
a ship with no destination
for my destination is always
wherever I land
to admit it or not
I dance in my body and spirit everyday
negotiations are always interrupted
but never monetarily gained
I wrestle with this soul of mine
I reconcile with my own face
I am no god

Have I Misunderstood you, Marguerite?

I haven’t let you finish and yet I cannot fathom what you affirm. This god of yours is a greedy one, and an unaware one at that. To perish in his will and become holy in this annhilation, my beloved is to not become perfect. God is not what you think, and god is not what you feel is perfection; either thought are traps. But I am no better than those that have condemned you, forgive this student. And yet I cannot in all that I have learned, give myself to a god I cannot see, and cannot grab hold of, cannot even perceive with my heart. You must’ve been starved to insist that the ravenous hunger was a righteous striving that can only be satiated by this god. Beloved, mortality is granted in the flesh for a reason. To live is to grasp the very life within you and express it as honestly as you can. Not to reject it and in its place create a quagmire of proverbs and prayers held together in the hopes that this god of yours will liberate and perfect you in their holiness. Holiness is a man made trap, I have begun to learn and understand this. Forgive this student, but holiness is a stain upon the perfect body and the perfect mind. The belief of sin intertwined with mortal crimes and justifications of purity is all a holy mess. Not that evil doesn’t exist and shouldn’t be punished, but to trap the ordinary mortal in psychopathic reasoning is unfair. We are all born with free will, the challenge is to live among each other and learn to respect each life for we might stumble upon it in another or become that very life.

This student is still walking on many paths and reading the signs as best as I can. Yet I can affirm, this god at the center of creation cannot be held in a mortal. Your life is a gift, your soul is your own temple, and your breath is the expression of god’s will for you to continue until you cannot anymore.