Saturday

09292012

as the sky falls outside
in violent crescendos and
the pages remain empty
(because sometimes words fail)

i surrender to the balance
that is music
i surrender to the stillness
that is me


Wednesday

09262012

another mindful serendipity...


a child hums
in the mist.

a ghost calls
from the past.

the old
becomes the new.

Sunday

09232012

you speak as though
i cannot hear through you

but
i hear

(i do)

my own
inner voice

racing between
your elegant temples

tying up loose ends
and unraveling others

Wednesday

09192012

this body… a warrior.
this tongue… a flame.

this voice…
a blind poet in the night.

these fingers…
armored and ready to fight.

it is beside the point to paint
silver stars on a black ceiling
and crown them with haloes.

the sky is wide open.

i dare to fly!

Sunday

09162012


tonight

summer crashes
to its knees
breaks down
 and cries

and

i think of you.

where are you?
what are you doing?

are the days friendly?
are the nights tranquil
though cold?

am i in your thoughts?
do you remember me?

Friday

09142012

she said,
he made me turn away
from all things human,
including myself.

i said,
he hardened you.
is that what you mean to say?

yes,
she said.
she paused.
but that is a good thing, isn’t it?

i said,
you are defending him.
so why did you leave him?

she said,
because he made me feel inferior.

did he?
i said.
or did you do that to yourself?

does it make a difference?
she said,
i feel like a train
that has broken down.
what do you make of that?

it’s better to be a train
that has broken down,
i said,
than to be a train that
never reaches the station.

Wednesday

09122012


we speak
in swollen silences,
the words too fragile
to be delivered by mouth.

Saturday

09082012

not long ago, one light glimmered and spoke
naked and strong

this light proliferates, radiates, expands

and i sit inside it glowing, growing

knowing, quite consciously, that
nothing can touch me

Wednesday

09052012

another unsent letter


Dear X.,

You sent me a black and white photo wrapped in red tissue paper. A photo you had taken of yourself. And I held it in my hand and closely examined your face. Yes. There was a smile. But this was no ordinary smile. This smile begged forgiveness for the lies it told. This smile begged absolution… and peace… and prayer. And I spoke to this smile and begged it to turn downwards, to be pulled as if by gravity toward your chin… that your prayer might be answered. That your tears might fall.

A storm of tears. An answered prayer.

But now, how can you go about pretending to others, when you can no longer pretend to yourself?

Fondly,
N.