Saturday, January 20, 2007

as if i were watching your dreams in my head

You only talked to me
You said, "Tell me"
You asked, "Do you think Love and Soul are the same?"
If not, how does the Soul earn Love?
How does Love find it's Soul?
Can one exist withought the other?
If Love and the Soul had a child
what would her name be?

"Tell me your name" I said
"You already know
If you are Soul
I am the other one"

I heard the sea in your voice
sheer waves breaking on pale powdered sand
I heard the glossy rustlings of the cypress and olive trees
the footsteps of maenads and panpipes playing
echoing caves in the mountains
cloven hooves striking the rock
At their approach birds took flight into the white skies

After a long time I fell asleep

In the morning you were gone....

~pg.8-9 Psyche in a Dress,(Francesca Lia Block)

I wish I could write like this
I wish light and glitter and wonderfull warm pure things
poured out of me
I wish it would touch someone
I wish I didn't feel as if my head were floating right now

my fingers are sore and cracking. i squeeze them occasionally,pressing them
to my chest or beneath my warm thigh,trying to soothe the ache. it doesn't matter. what
a trivial thing. really.

I wish warm red and yellow and orange sketches were life
I wish the black background...the paper the sketch belongs to....the void....
were real....not just an image behind your eyes in a darkened room
I wish mouths could open and pour out! pour out! mine.....everyones!
spew it....don't worry about the glory or the pain or the poetry it may create
let it be!

this is life!


this beauty....this pain....this insecurity....these prayers! all of it! THIS is what matters.

we swirl and we swirl and we release and we become and we go back and we return and we begin and what what what!

THIS is me....not this hair....this pound of eyeliner I apply to hide the shade of my eyes...this 15 layers of clothes I wear to hide the shape of my body.....I am beautiful and so are you and so is everyone and so are we all. sometimes I lie awake at night trying to count the perfect second and sometimes i pretend if i close my eyes and tilt my head far back i can float off into nothing and i'll teach my daughter to lie on the floor and and close her eyes and listen to the quiet and just be.....just be

what else is there?

and who gives a shit what the hell the rest of the world thinks.

this is me

whole and complete

i am not a flower

i am not a weed

i am a tree

branching out....

roots rich and deep