Untitled 7

Our balance of Karma
sitting like a lily
waiting for rain
when sun won't cease

oh sun, come and
bring your warmth
on my broken skin
sing down your hymn

saw me in half
like a magician,
like some secular
sign, some 666

dance your wild dance
on my soul oh sun
dance your wild dance
son, dance

Being left to my own devices

There is a place where God knows that's going on
but he has let us all run on earth as people
he is having a fight with evil that we are all
aware of. I am part of that fight. Evil comes
into my heart and I just have to let it subside and
say "we are all sinners, we can all be saved"

and I need that salvation Lord. I need a sign.
I have had the hardest time in my whole life.

Everyone is afraid of me. I have been digging to
find nothing. And I just need to stop digging. I just need to rest my shovel and
retire. I'm afraid to stop digging. The same tools I use to find an answer are the tools
I use to actually find an answer. I just need to know when to use them. When the soil is soft.

God, help me find a way. I know the demons are hiding, and soon they will come out to play.

I'm still afraid, but there is really nothing to be afraid of. The only thing to fear is still fear. I'm afraid when it comes and goes. I need to talk with other people like me.

Chanting and Dancing

I am swinging from a rope that has been tied years ago
and my body is their limp and lifeless

I am hanging out on this hot summer day,
twisting my life away

and i tied the noose, and I whipped the horse
and in my last moment, I regret that he ran away

I'm hanging here, from a noose, from a course
a choice that I already made.

On Death

When One looks out at the Grand Canyon,
do they see the morning light, the summer sun
singing and spinning simple spun spindrels

or do we see the sunset, painted and
pushed like petals on a brow of some
native woman, some young maiden

because with the sunset comes
a darkness as long as the day,
and then again light, unique

spending afternoons mourning
the sunset seems stupid like
skipping morning coffee for intercourse

or like forgetting to eat dinner during
dinnertime, bring your horses and
I will bring the noose, sing low.

Darkness

At 4 am, I've found my brain turns funny trick
crooked corners become wide-open valleys,
vaginal canals brought open, hot like bacon

 don't judge me for my words, but for my actions;
if you see this in print, then bring down your scorn,
 but for now. For now, notice the temporary state

 of these words, How they glisten on the page
and mirror your flickering eyes. How they exists
for a moment and then (flick) disappear.

We are all like this, waiting to be published,
 waiting to be born at 4am, to be discarded
from our flesh envelopes, to be removed from inside.

Epithalamium

There are these little places where love exists,
places where a profound relationship took root,
where we can revisit the rings of years past inside,
where the sapling once lived, bending in the breeze;

these tender tendrils of youth
dance like fireflies in the mason jar
of our bellies, with sparked smells of summer and
nostalgia, simple freedom and joy

We are all here, from 9 to 90, in recognition,
in blessing of this feeling, this cocoon-like
warmth that surrounds our spirits, that lends our
hearts and hands to anoint this couple

we are all on the team that roots and cheers for
love, that tends its broken branches and melts its
winter frost, we are here to shine the light of love
on this newly sprouted tree and bath it in the rays of

our hearts; together.