Saturday, July 4, 2009

I forget the power of words sometimes me - the writer - AP style story -story-pyramidstyle!!I forget the need to connect and reconnectEmpower and reflect - avoid and be devoidmyself- inside-down deepof words, the words,from wordsbecause of- in spite of - fear of respite from~words~half truths - half lies- deny thy spiritdeny thy pride- words-speak me, seek me, f@$k me- freak me~words~Poetry, drama, love/hate, karma~words~In the beginning there was-in the end there shall beYou- me the power of three~words~I am the word- You are the wordSPEAK your piece- speak your peace.Your words are power. Your words our power.

Wednesday, July 1, 2009

Learning to Be

I have never felt liked I belonged anywhere. When I was younger, I thought this Gypsy mentality was cool. A Will of the Wisp kinda butterfly of a gal. This restlessness has led me down many paths and to many realtionships but never has it brought me home to me.How do we find our way to ourselves, to authenticity? When you're young this is a wonderful journey, although at the time it mightn't seem that way. But as you get older you should start making a home, a little nest. I don't know how to do this.Don't get me wrong, my home is lovely.My son is starting high school.I actually make money writing. I have a great boyfriend but I'm not home and I don't know where to look anymore-- unless maybe, it's inward.I guess this is the key.
Sometimes I think home is a person.At other times I think home lies in our own hearts in our ability to love ourselves and nurture ourselves.I keep thinking one day I'll find a little dot on the map and know without a doubt, this is where I belong.I don't know.I just know that for the next four high school years, I'm right here. What's the old adage?"No matter where you go , there you are." It always makes me laugh because here I am,at then end of the one road and the start of a new journey. The begininng of me,being still and becoming and hopefully finding my way home.Whatever that means.



I am rising.
Shaking off the fear of my Summer]
and the subtle change in my light
.I am rising like the proverbial phoenix
or any women who pays the rent
I am untying the knots of self]
squared and tight these ropes that bind
and opening my eyes to clarity
and the rich lushness of my life
I am extending my arms to embrace the day
and shaking hands with illusions
these only cloud the mind
I am slipping on my four inch heels
like the wanton woman I am
or any woman who pays the rent
and dancing, with cat like moves
feeling the slow rhythm of my life song
I am tasting my own words
and they are good ,like wild honey
I am rising, like any woman and I am free.

Saturday, January 10, 2009

Long days ramblings into night

Because this life will be as it will- until it ceases to be what we pretend it's not- our souls confusion will paint the illusion of clarity on aging bodies and youthful hearts- until we can see that love makes us blind -- family makes us crazy--and friends make us strong-- these are the songs of ancients-- that have child -like vision in the hindsight of our future. May we all see as babes in muted shades of wisdom. Amen.
What if cats were purple and grapes were the color of raw meat? What if we drove to work in a handbag and danced on the tips of our fingers? What if songs were our bodys way of making love? What if everyone everywhere were free? What if ice cream wasn't fattening and Absolute was at the top of the food pyramid? What if trees nutured our souls and held us close when we wept? What if acceptance was in every breath of our being? And what if love was cheap and poverty was the designer look of the season? What if self loathing and fear were rubberbands and we could shoot them from the clasp of our Coach bags as we sped down a highway made of sunshine and good memories? What if family was another word for neighbor and a butterfly whisphered, "Wake up, the world is waiting for your brillance," in our ear every morning instead of blaring alarm clocks echoing the unfulfilled voids that is as regular as our cup of Columbian? What if Taxi Cabs took us to the moon and dreams led us to Nirvana? Then would you smile?