Poetry

The Source

I searched fiercely
As I saw trouble, chaos, darkness and judgment raging in the world

Just to find it was actually raging
in me.

Pedestrian Salvation

It doesn't need to be how it used to be.
I just need to accept the unrecognized beauty of what is.
I made a promise to my spirit
Better yet, my spirit is the promise
of renewal, of truth, of hope.
It doesn't need to be a fairytale...
Just my tale of a life lived, of love shared, a soul engaged.
The morning star accepted my proposition,
and the clouds retreated on command.
It doesn't need to be because of me.

It is me...

the Others

They willingly violate the sanctity
of the Human Trust.
They lust after your
thoughts
attention
body
soul.
Now I can tell Donny where the love went…
They consumed it
then expelled it as excrement.
They can paste your face onto the body of
any other being.
Seeing little to no value in the
God in you,
the part of you
that bears the unique epithet
of your soul.
Quantity of flesh
over quality of relationship
brings them to an uninspired climax
and eruption of detachment.
In opposition to spiritual attachment
they will never let you in
and are quick to see you out.
Their appetite for spiritual cannibalism
cannot be quenched
cannot be convinced
to spare your life.
So you best hold your life
in such high regard
they cannot reach it
and even if they seek it,
it will be impalpable
to the forked
tongue.

hope

fear can pin you in a box
so small
you can fit under the devil's thumb
i run through gracious fields
listening to the california blue bells and african daisies and blue flax
promise me that
yesterdays will haunt me no more
that the cancerous toxins
that poison my heart
will never reach my spirit
that the death and despair that own my dreams
will never take my rainbows
that the damage can be undone
that light has not abandoned me
that no pain is forever
and that even in the tiniest of boxes
there is still room
for hope

Gods and Monsters

There's this battle between
Gods and monsters you know
When I was a little girl
I always thought the monsters
were waiting for me under my bed
Until I realized they'd swarmed my body and
taken refuge in my head
But it's not so bad with the monsters in there
I can still primp my face and fix my hair
And act like them and work their jobs
And play their games and be their snobs
Eat their food and drink their drinks
But most importantly
think their think
And chase their dreams and forget my own
Only speak with my soul long distance by phone
The Gods didn't have a chance
Once the monsters set in
'Cause I can out run them and I can out wit them
I'll just wait right here...
'Cause I can also out sit them
I'll just convince them to give me 1st place
And eventually I'll be happy
Once I buy that car and get that job
and get back thin...
But this ain't a race
There's nothing to win
There's only you
There's only me
There's only passion
There's only free
There's only life
There's only will
There's only so much you can spill
before those monsters leave you empty
Searching high and low for
Alive
Forced to sleepwalk just to survive
Existing and living are such completely different things
And with that notion I disrobed
and
Spread my wings

Beauty

I bite down
on the midnight sky.
I thought the stars
were sprinkles
begging to be devoured,
adored,
consumed.

I thought
beauty would be best in my belly,
where it could be safe,
where it could be mine.

I thought
it could make
my laughter infinite
and my vision panoramic.

I thought
if I had it on the inside
well I
could be beautiful
too.

The UnLearning

I became increasingly vexed
As slippery gargoyles
trample budding roses and
yellow day lilies

my ability to accept
this incongruent
concept
of unLearning
starts a centrifuge
as my doubt & insecurity
rise to the outer layer

as myth
as indiscretion
as celebrity
burns our
castles of Truth
and our havens of Knowledge
barbarians of mass production
bury our babies alive
and replace them
with drones
clones
built in memoriam to
Beauty

and now my lone voice
screams
into a vacuum of noise
that is so loud
it has demanded deafness of us all
the warriors of materialism
launch grenades and take aim
at the leafy green
vim
I've been tending in my modest little garden

surrounded by a trained army
of rehearsed chaos
I am backed into oblivion and isolation
all to ensure
that the
unLearning
may not begin

LEARN MORE ABOUT NATURAL LAW