October 10, 2008  :: 0 comments

feeling gray today. feeling like lukewarm soup, like a crayon whose tip has been colored down to the paper. feeling cloudy with a chance of rain. i’m a gooey piece of gum hardening under the table. i’m a forgotten love letter in an old dusty box. i’m a strand of Christmas lights burned out, yet still hanging
uselessly on the tree. i’m feeling gray today. feeling like yesterday’s newspaper left on the cold porch, in the rain, soggy with all the ink blending into itself, illegible and messy. i’m a watch with its battery starting to lag behind, minutes off at first, then all of a sudden, hours. feeling like a cat locked out of the house meowing to be let in. i’m an old weathered paperback book, it’s cover held on with tape, sitting on the bookshelf, waiting, waiting to be read. read me.
i’m feeling gray today.


October 10, 2008  :: 0 comments

I believe we are born sexual. Sexuality is as instinctual as eating and breathing. From a very early age, we are conditioned, though, to repress it. We learn about sex from stealing peeks at necking teenagers and playing risky exploration games with neighborhood kids in the shed. We play with sex by testing our boundaries, sampling…we feel aroused and don’t understand why. We orgasm without knowing what an orgasm is (whatever that was, it sure felt good!) We learn from our sexuality as much as we learn about it. We get hurt, we get used, we get taken, we get STDs or pregnancy scares. We learn. We grow. We eventually learn that sex is not dirty or sinful. We learn to please ourselves. We learn to please others. We learn to accept who we are sexually. And not be ashamed. And not be afraid to be sexual. We then learn that sexuality can come in all shapes and sizes, all kinds of things, places, scents, feelings, situations. Sexuality can be found in a slowly smoked cigarette, or a dance or a smile. Sexuality can be found in the texture and sweet flavor of a ripened strawberry. Sexuality can even transcend gender, to its raw, spiritual core; two souls, strongly magnetized towards each other. We embrace our sexuality then, proudly, without shame, or regrets. Without anger. We can accept our sexuality with soft open arms, warm breast and open heart. And in the process, accept ourselves.


October 10, 2008  :: 0 comments

The sweet sweet taste of your lips intoxicates me, sends me
Reeling, feelin’ stealing
Kisses here and kisses there and I’m DRUNK
On the scent
of your hair
This longing burns like fire, out of control
And I cant wait
To have you
And be completely
And wholly
By you.
Cause when the push comes to shove
And longing feels like love
And dirty feels so pure
Its then you know for sure, it’s sexuality
Sexual, sexual
Don’t be afraid, just let yourself go
One kiss one touch one fuck and you’ll know
Its your sexuality calling
So come out and play
Its your divine birthright to feel this way
I taste I touch I breathe you in
My fingers lightly tracing the creases of your skin
And this attraction tastes so sweet
This affection this fire this burning desire
We need not worry of right and wrong
Good and evil
Heaven and hell
Cuz here, in this moment
All lines are erased
All labels removed. The rules don’t apply
Here, in this moment.
We’re naked
And holy
and pure
Just like the day we were born.
If this pleasure wasn’t meant to be
Would our tongues intertwined taste so heavenly
Would breasts against breasts move so gracefully?
Mother nature knew what she was doin’
To make you so delicious to me
Mother nature knew what she was doin’
Cuz kissing you’s like kissing me
And I can please YOU like I please myself
I know a thing or two about YOUR thing or two
I promise I will touch you right
Like I touch myself every night.
So dive right in
The water’s warm
But stay out of the deep end baby,
Unless you know how to swim
This longing burns like fire, out of control
And I can’t wait to have you
And to be completely
So sweetly
And finally
Had by you.

A Beautiful Mess

October 10, 2008  :: 0 comments

How am I, you ask?
How am I, in the “fine-how-are-you” way or do you really want to know,
cause if you really, truly, sincerely want to know, I’ve warned you…
I’m an open book, I’m a messy drawer, I’m an unfinished portrait
in womanhood; I’m a beautiful mess.
Nothing is certain, nothing is sure, nothing is right, yet. but yet is nothing more than hope, yet is only hoping in something that may or may not come and i may or may not find my way out of this. my bangs are too long, but if they’re not too long, they’re too short, they’re only just right for a day or so and I’m here and I don’t know why, I don’t know what I’m supposed to learn from this great big beautiful mess. My insides are askew, my ass is growing wider, my reflection isn’t impressing me lately and I’m stuck inside and days go by when i don’t even shave my legs, and I think i heard that’s a sign of depression and I’m empty inside but full of myself and why is that a bad thing;am I good or bad? Do I really have to be one or the other? So do you really want to know how I am, or should I just say “fine-how-are-you”?


October 10, 2008  :: 0 comments

Orphan martyr misses her mother,
poor-poor, poor-poor me.
As the martyr, I lay down my life and tell
the same damned story
to anyone who’ll listen- or anyone I want to
KNOW me- the “Behind the Music” version Me

I’m tired of my own saga
I’m tired of hearing myself tell the same shocking stories
I’m so tired of repeated
Disappointments and paper cut stings of
memories I never got
to live
and forgiveness I have yet to give. I will write my story upon your heart
or your back
or where ever you will let me leave my mark

And I will not apologize
nor tell you lies,
while you try to analyze
My truth is stranger than fiction
I am the WOUNDED ONE who
from adversity

I’ve got empty pockets and a song and a dance
I’ll give to any passerby who pretends to care
cause how can you KNOW me- the TRUE me,
the E! True Hollywood Story Me with poignant
music and too many commercials
and a recap after
every break.

Would anyone like a piece of me?
samples are free.
would you like to taste my pain?
If you miss it this time, come back for the encore, playing at 6,8 and 10.
The Super-Orphan-Martyr-Survivor-Daughter–
Ooooh! She is so strong!

Experiment in Poetic Disparity

October 10, 2008  :: 0 comments

I tried to write a poem
That didn’t speak of pain
Or passion unbridled
Or the rawness of desire
To my surprise
It felt like lies
Like dry
Like empty words
Like perversion
Of the dullest kind

Kisses with no tongue
Scissors that would not cut
A razor that only pinkens the skin
tingling, numbing. Laughable.
Pretending to slice
Pretending to mark
in weak silly lines
across my heaving, empty chest.
a joke making fun of itself,
a loose leaf of innocent paper,
defaced and deflowered,
defiled by my muck and waste of ink.

“I tried to be a poem”
She said;
Blushing of embarrassment
Staring at the floor…
“But you gave me nothing
To work with
Gave me nothing
to feel with
Gave me nothing
to say”

And she despised me
For her premature birth
For the unlikely
existence that I had
forced her into–
words on paper
nothing more, nothing more.
twisting and pulling her out of me
with the forceps of mockery
She wept empty tears.
I laughed empty jeers.

A premature ejaculation of the soul
“You always climax too soon,” she said
and shook her head.
“Why can’t you see? Some of us
are trying
to be poetry.”

I tried to write a poem
That didn’t speak of pain
Or passion unbridled
Or the rawness of desire
But nothing came,
nothing came.

Nothing worth anything,
at least.

Sacrilegious Consecration

October 10, 2008  :: 0 comments

With sheepish reservation
approaching faith with hesitation
I send this flaccid invocation
to a god i think is on vacation
to repair my cracked foundation
and reschedule my dream cancellation

With pathetic resignation,
my natural gravitation
toward shadowy flirtation
distracts me from my own stagnation…

self-induced complications
settling for superficial sensations –
self medication
causing frightening palpitations
and quickly fleeting jubilation
and a loss of concentration
and manic masturbation

I’m just looking for a good vibration
Instead, I am a new mutation
so far from my original station
unfazed by my own damnation
I suffer, in this separation,
of hunger and of dehydration.
Save me from my reputation
Give me life and elevation.
I want non-toxic levitation

With such shallow aspirations
can i live in moderation?

I’ll settle even for the
mere scent of inspiration.
Until then shall I resume
my pending detonation?
My holy desecration
and soul suffocation,
Stumbling in my isolation?

Disconnected from all
blood relations
an orphan by causation
I resent the implication.
though I admit the connotation.

Yet really, this is all just speculation.
Am I a product of my generation
Are my demons just figments
of an overactive imagination?
Or am I seriously inflicted
with emotional retardation?

The Gospel According to Me

October 10, 2008  :: 0 comments

I used to be a very religious person. Like the obnoxiously alienating-scaring off friends-zealously-fanatical kind of religious.

Then one day, many years ago, I looked at my worn out religion and realized I didn’t want to wear it anymore- it just didn’t fit me anymore- I realized that my religion was full of holes and lies and hypocrisies and inconsistencies and contradictions and judgements and superiority and small-mindedness and exclusion and elitism and I didn’t want it anymore. So I threw it away.

Problem was, I threw the idea of God away with it. Now, years later, I see my faith evolving. I believe in God. In a great big way. There is no religion I claim, no doctrine I subscribe to, really, its quite simple and can be summed up like this. Ready for my religion?

Here it is: God is big. God is Love. God is you and me. God is everywhere and everything and everyone.

That’s it, really.

In my redesigned and still developing faith, I’m often caught off guard when someone argues against the existence of God. It surprises me – perplexes me and I want to tell them – just look around. To me its just so fucking obvious, I mean, come on.

So, for those of you that need persuading, or are still on the fence with deciding whether or not god exists, I present to you my thesis.


Cellular reproduction, DNA, fingerprints, snowflakes, nectarines, childbirth, a worm’s ability to regenerate when torn in half, a caterpillar’s transformation and rebirth from the cocoon into its winged and beautiful re-design, science, mathematics, physics, icicles, the intricacies and patterns inside of a tulip or a lily, the sweet perfumed fragrance of a magnolia, a ladybug’s painted spots, babies, the human body and all of its divinely designed mechanisms and chemistry and elaborate systems, bird songs, genitals, the body’s natural ability to heal itself.

creativity, curiosity, imagination, passion, love, laughter, hope, the unorchestrated but reliably gradual healing of a broken heart or spirit, the amazingly delicate balance of a perfectly structured solar system, cumulus, stratus and sirrus clouds, pink and purple water color sunsets, fire, stars, forests, deserts, oceans, jungles, civilization, evolution, water, space travel, people helping people, technology, embryonic stem cell research, chemotherapy, psychotherapy.

the moon, the ecosystem, the internet, cell phones, airplanes, boats and cars, the zodiac, the strength and valor of the human spirit, intuition, art, music, literature, film, paint, sidewalk chalk, wax sticks that you can color with that come in every single color you can imagine, and some you didn’t, insects, rainbows, that inside each pear seed exists a pear tree and countless pears, human compassion, diversity, color, texture, taste, smell, the power of touch, wildflowers that nobody even planted but they grow anyway.

sleep, dreams, fantasies, the miraculous and mysterious workings of weather, the secret universes that exist underwater, in a bee hive, in dirt, in a puddle, in the human body, in an ant hill, in a scrotum, in a high school, in a toenail.

free will, forgiveness, grace, coincidence, happenstance, serendipity, synchronicity, fate, destiny, man’s ability to walk upright when he wants to, or just lay around if we prefer, freshwater pearls, diamonds, gems, mangos, avocados, olives, tomatoes, herbs, spices, cannabis, venus flytraps, dragonflys, the human brain, the human face, the human heart, ticklish places, goosebumps, hot sex, orgasms, the ability to bring oneself to orgasm without any help, love, mortality, immortality, medicine, magic, miracles, mysteries, and the innate human desire to solve them.

To me, its clearly evident, if not obvious, that god is real and present and actively involved; evidence exists everywhere and anywhere, if you choose to see it. I mean really, I could go on and on and on. If you’re not convinced yet, I wonder if you ever will be.

And Now

October 10, 2008  :: 0 comments

Things can be different now.

As the great truth
makes its way to the stage,
unveiling, unmasking, revealing
the spectacular punchline
the grand dichotomy-
oh, it has taken a lifetime
to get to this place
I have been led here to
simply accept this truth:
My Light and my Darkness
shall co-exist
as friends.

As friends?

As friends.

the truth is so fresh, so new
still wet in its birthing blood
still tender and fragile
so gently i embrace it.
i claim it.

Humbly, I take my place in this
arena of graduating fools,
as I move into a new plane,
reduced to a new birth.
Embryonic once more–
my only agenda growth
Sheepishly, I bow to
the god of self-unification.

And now.
Things are different now.

Married are my dualities
A union long overdue
I will no longer judge; I can no longer fight

Can this be? Can it really be so?
With no winners no losers

There is no fight to follow
There is no failure, no defeat
alert the masses- the war has been called off
mid-battle, the forces
not retreating,
only meeting
and greeting
and feeding
one another
drinking one another,
they are both
the best sides of me

A lifetime spent fighting
exhausted, snuffed to nothingness
so that I may be reborn
this feud, so futile,
cost me so much
drained my soul
emptied me out
inside out

And now.
Things are different now.

Ready I stand,
mouth open wide
expectant and ready
to be filled up again
to be satiated
by my own divinity
to be filled
this time with wisdom
instead of rubbish and lies
and empty comforts and
false freedoms.

knowing now

There never was a war,
there never was a battle,
no dragons to slay

the war is over
the sides neutralized
wisdom the glowing prize.

And now.
Things are different now.

Returning and Beginning

October 10, 2008  :: 0 comments

Wide awake I rise
hearing the soft whisper
accepting the invitation
to attend the blossoming
of one more sweet day.

so open, so lush
verdant garden of my heart
mystical, magical
painted flowers spilling open
sing to me a lovesong.
“Alas, she has returned!”

My life, my love
my blood a flowing river
my bones sturdy trees
my spirit blooms and sings,
Fragrant and fresh
This is the way.

Inhaling to exhale
breathing out and breathing in.
Holiest of holies,
with welcoming kisses
I am greeted.
She takes me in.

In the wide open space of my potential,
sky is blue and I am golden.
I rise and behold truth and love
in all of its simplistic mysteries
and complicated simplicities.
I am alive and buzzing with possibilities,
fertile and rich, like the soil beneath me.

Basking in the warmth
of my own light, I shine, I glow.
Behind me sways my history
dancing in the breeze of memory.

Before me, destiny beckons
to lovingly coax me into her embrace
to dance, to hold and touch–
“we will create wondrous tomorrows together,
just you wait…”
her promise in my ear
and I am taken,
I am smitten and I will go
where she leads me.

Divine, divine, dancing with mystery
light envelopes me
becomes me;
I run barefoot in tall grass
and I am naked in the sun
and I am holy
and alive.

this body and its spirit– lovers,
reunited, at last.
at last this heart has found its home.

Passionately I step
into my own godly light.
so bright, so bright
I ignite
and burn toward the future.