Life is Real

the scent of you

2012-01-30T21:20:00.000-08:00

The truth is, that sometimes the only way you can keep loving a person is to let them go.

I could have stayed until resentment sickened me.

I could have strained to keep you until I wore my heart weary.

We could have been together, but apart.

Or perhaps we could have been better... loved better. but no, i doubted...

So it's over

while I can still smile at the scent of you in my bedsheets.

Telepathic message to the God

2012-01-28T16:15:00.000-08:00

to each
i have given a cup

some crystal
some clay

all empty
none could fill

the great riddle of loving me
they were such small things

perhaps they were cracked
but it no longer matters

to You
i will bring the jeweled chalice

the grail that i am searching for
inside of myself

it overflows

prove yourself
and you may touch

love me
and you may drink

honor the Goddess
and i will bathe you in sweet, soft water

dry your skin with my hair
and invite you to dip in the well

and if you do not exist
my cups will still be full

Lust of the Daughter of Sekhmet

2011-12-07T10:25:00.000-08:00

Here I Am

walking in the desert

daughter of the lion-headed goddess

marked by her flaming hair

Her hot winds

have burned up my caution

sent my sanity up in steam

I am drunk with heat

mad with passion

Here You Come

as rain

plump, hard juicy drops

beating down on my fevered body

bursting open

and dripping down my skin

Why shouldn't I dance in the low country?

Why shouldn't I take off my clothes?

Why shouldn't I revel and relish?

Why shouldn't I bathe and frolic?

why wouldn't i drink my fill of you and

puuuuuurrrrr

Brief note on Perspective

2011-12-07T09:53:00.000-08:00

If you walk through life using the shaky rationale of "caution," or "self-protection," to justify why you choose to look at every glass as half-empty, all the while hoping to be pleasantly surprised, chances are that you won't be. Lose the candy-coated fear, and realize that you must change your perspective to change your experience. It is a rare occurence for it to happen the other way around.

xoxoxo

Brief note on Passion

2011-12-07T09:48:00.000-08:00

True passion is marked by the presence of pure, unavoidable vulnerability. The possibility that the object of your desire/love/inspiration could be lost or change fundamentally always exists. If this happens, you will be equally as devastated as you once were passionate.

However, this does not make passion a weakness or a character flaw. In my opinion, those who are determined to experience the best in life actually pursue it.

we are that we are

2011-10-20T07:38:00.000-07:00

it is significant
that the god of the Hebrews
never gave himself a name
he didn't want to be boxed in

*

but look what we have done
how we have changed in the 50-odd years
since we sat down at the table
and said
"here's what you can call us"

would've rather they kept calling us the boogieman
it's easy to know that you're not that
and keep creating your own image
keep evolving
keep being yourself

but they needed a name for us
and we wanted to be called
and so we gave them the secret
things we thought it might be nice
to hear

but each one turned foul in their mouths

we kept trying

*

god knows
that when the name of a holy thing
is spoken
its magic is taken out
the breath of its life is sucked back out into the cosmos
and the moisture evaporates
it loses its fluidity

and so
the beautiful mud people
have hardened into
dry clay
baked under the harsh gaze of voyeurs
definers

*

we are no longer ourselves
stuck in poses
like statues
names on placards
explained in a paragraph
for passers-by

we have lost our lives
but we are not dead yet
and now
when they call us the boogieman
(though never to our faces)
we choke on wondering
is it true?

*

Fantasy of the Day 10/19/2011

2011-10-19T11:36:00.000-07:00

I want to go to the market before sunset, and see the mats glow like felled rainbows, colorful produce made brighter and more tempting by the orange-pink rays of the hour. There I will find the woman with the long skirt, eyes glittering, kneeling before her offerings. At first, her face will seem dusty and sour from a full day of work so close to the ground. But then she will smile, and teeth that are surprisingly white will set her whole face inside the halo of the ancient Mothers. She will dazzle me with her beauty. I will kneel, meeting her eyes with mine, and ask for the fruit that hides under the protection of her skirt. She will cut her eyes a bit, but joyfully. "You have chosen well, daughter," she will say in a language locked to my ear but open to my soul, as she hands me the plump scented thing. She will overcharge me, and I will pay double her price; this is all I wanted. I will walk home, grinning, with the most sensuous mango I have ever encountered wrapped up in linen like a jewel, and we will both be satisfied. Her spell ending, and mine beginning...

The Land of Sapiens

2011-10-17T19:15:00.000-07:00

it is extremely humid
here
impossible to breathe
being swallowed up
in thick vapor
and stepping
into grayish-pinkish
slimy
quicksand
sinking down into
higher thought

how nice to be
human
what a miracle
to be able to
think

there are no wheels turning here
no perfectly placed
spokes and axles
no gears
there is no order here
just synapses
firing wildly
electric storm
dangerous hyperanalysis
obsessive compulsion
that we credit
with
creation

how lovely
to reign
superior

there is no light here
only pictures seen
in the dark
illusion

we have created a world
in our image

this is our fate

the others
they do not
wish
to be wise

the priest

2011-10-08T21:15:00.000-07:00

i watched him set down his glass

as the ice melted
the second cat's-eye lid rolled back
and i realized why i had been trying
to put my spell on him

i watched him
bum a cigarette from
the woman at the end of the bar
he thanked her too kindly
and i realized
that he had gotten to me first

that bastard
the priest

walking me outdoors for fresh air
speaking to me of visions and
peace
all the while tending
my desire

the spirit
in his eyes dancing
around the fire
in mine
offering itself up for consumption

i glowed brighter under
the street lamp
as he hailed me a cab
kissed my cheek
softly
grazing my back with his thumb
he said goodnight

bowed his head in recognition
watching as the driver pulled off
then turned and walked quickly
away

***

i am certain he is returning
to the woman at the bar

but i
surely
will have the best of him

sometimes once

2011-10-06T20:43:00.000-07:00

sometimes
magic only works once

it is the same with faith
and love

do not be fooled
by the false law of constants

sometimes
once is all you need

enlightenment

2011-10-06T20:33:00.000-07:00

when the night falls
and secrets peek out from behind the dark sides
of bold green leaves
fireflies

i can almost see
the order of the universe
blinking in close-encounter
morse code

god talking
little lights
big darkness
trading wonders back and forth
dancing between creation
and undoing
enjoying each others' company

enlightenment is such a small part of the scene
but still so beautiful

The Gospel of R.

2011-10-06T20:29:00.000-07:00

I have a feeling that the two great forces of the Universe are somewhere up/down there, inside of and encapsulating us, beyond everything, dancing to "Step in the Name of Love," singing along: "If they ask you why we did it, tell 'em we did it for Love!" and laughing and twirling around and around, separating and bringing it back... :)

i want ecstasy

2011-10-06T19:12:00.000-07:00

i want to expand so wide
that i can swallow the sky
feel the stars burn in my belly
warming me
for a nap

i want to shrink so small
that i can fall down through the earth
rolling
bouncing like a pinball between particles of dirt and sand
down through the hot core
and through the other side
then floating, flying
carried out into the cool blue universe
by the wind of the moon's revolution

i want to drink soma

i want to whirl and whirl
until i disappear
and become everything at once

i want to die still living
my new path revealed
by the light of 1000 glowing lamps

i want to dance with a king
before the belly of the Goddess

and i will only walk with god
if i meet him on the path
to the Heavenly Gates
even then
i go my own way

circles of passion

2011-10-06T18:47:00.000-07:00

sometimes i think
that i am an artist
because i never got over my first love

because i never forgot my soulmate

because i can't let go of you

i've never really stopped believing in love

and inside circles of passion
thoughts
beauty
are the only places that someone like me
can feel sane

there i am the Lover and the Beloved
i am whole

Strongholds

2011-08-14T07:33:00.000-07:00

I slept for 16 hours
poured out all my demons
into dreams of the liquid night
their absence greeted me
upon waking
feeling so skinny
fragile
this is what it means to be new
this is what it means to start again
this is what it means to be free
one strong wind
from being taken up into the sky

I slept long
let go all of my strongholds
but which of them have returned already?
those that are my mothers
those that are my grandmothers
those that are my sisters
and my beloveds
see the goddess in my eyes?

they know what it means to get up and walk

and we'll walk the earth
together
until we get back there
to the ocean
to the dark nothingness
to the place beyond heaven
and earth
to sleep

This August

2011-08-14T07:11:00.000-07:00

This August
weather
has been changing more rapidly
than i like.

it's like fall
but i had wanted to sweat for visions
one more month.

and She said "no. cool yourself."
and i cried and cried

until the water did indeed cool me
and we became one
cool and wet
changing thing.

yin's journey to the underworld

2011-08-06T15:31:00.000-07:00

My love
my friend
why do you make a mockery of me?

I will not be denied
My Rites
as Goddess
Yet you have come to me unprepared?

Where then, shall I go
my love
if i am to continue to feed you?

Surely you won't deny me
will you
will you?
knowing that you traded the sacrament for lust
and dealt with my daughters as whores?

And so
though the heart's love binds us
the fullness of the life force
withers
between our roots

My love
my friend
When you wake
alone
and the give this memory -
of me, speaking to you
your own thoughts shrouded with my voice -
up to the blinding light
Know this: that it is you who broke the vow.

and do not be angry with me when i am gone

For when i return
i will be red and ripe and flowing
with the stuff of life
that can heal you
Reconsecrated.
and i will try to resurrect you
once again

5th Chakra Blues

2011-07-28T21:15:00.000-07:00

I would have asked you
to go down and sit by the lake
with me
But you were too busy

I would have asked you
to come and read to me
from the book of love
But you were entertaining friends

I would have asked you
to be more tender
would have shown you all there is to know of me
and told you all of my secrets
But you went home

I should have asked you
i should have asked you...

But now my heart has run away from us both
And it may be too late...

simple Truth

2011-07-28T18:00:00.000-07:00

I think:

Each person has their own reality. However, there is only one Truth; that's what makes it Divine. It's creation (and non-creation) as God/dess sees it.

An individual's reality is determined by their biases and emotions - it is their perspective on Truth as viewed through the lens of their life experiences. In order to come in contact with pure, simple Truth, we must rid ourselves of self-specific distortions and distractions. This might be what many of the world's religions are talking about: purifying the mind, freeing oneself of the body and the physical world, etc.

Anyone who has come in contact with the Truth at any point should consider themselves highly blessed. I'm led to believe that it's not a common occurrence. It is a struggle trying to get back to that point, and I imagine it's even more difficult to maintain it as a constant state of awareness. And perhaps the latter quest is where many of us Truth-seekers go wrong. Maybe it is difficult to be in constant contact with the Truth for a reason; maybe it's not the experience intended for us while on Earth.

An old friend and mentor suggested to me, recently, that most of today's priests/priestesses (keepers of timeless, divine wisdom) are "hiding in the world." They are ordinary people, and more often than not aren't well-known religious leaders. They don't care if you drink or smoke or curse, and may even partake in such "unseemly" activities themselves. They know the secrets, and yet, they're really not sweatin' it.

Why? Maybe it's because they've realized that their relationships with Divinity don't rest on them dwelling in that pure, holy state of mind all the time. If you ever truly find it, Truth is not something you can lose - it is accessible at all times, from any juncture in life. It is the one pervasive, all-encompassing vision that exists. Isn't that the beauty of the Divine? It is wherever you are...

So we don't have to struggle to maintain a sense of spirituality that's based on neglecting the human experience. We can be here, on Earth, in our bodies, alive with pleasure and pain (neither is a sin). We can vacillate between our high and low chakras/minds/selves as needed in order to come into the fullness of human life and potential. And we can be assured that, no matter where we fall on the spectrum at the moment, Truth and the Divine are always within our reach.

Red Tea

2011-07-28T17:18:00.000-07:00

the Moon shines in on my longing

the writhing
the stretching
deep breathing and
soft belly, trembling
as The Wanting simmers inside

i crave something sweet
buds, steeped, with honey
and that you will come
and speak to me
and touch me like a woman
fill my cup with your nectar

Wise traveller,
Sweet alchemist
bearing both flowers and water
I possess your missing elements

you can have them
if you come
sit with me

help me heal my anger
and i will help you shed your sadness
please, come
and cure this madness
under the Moon

the Affirmation, the Key, the Resurrection

2011-07-28T14:40:00.000-07:00

It's dangerous
this assumption
that all things are like other things
because most things
are alike

an assumption
within an assumption
the foundation of modern thought

standards
are our Kings
not elected officials
dictators, conquerors
or even God

they are not large
but legion
ruling as brothers
threatening torture with tiny daggers of shame
at least one for every detail of our lives

invading
ruthlessly

but the Wise Woman gave me a thought
a charm to keep them at bay
"twins can have two different souls
while perfect strangers
can share one"

Ah, but there is no standard for souls
which is why the evil ones
make us deny them
or lock them away
or kill them.

She said "every day is a blessing"

2011-07-05T21:18:00.000-07:00

It is shameful
to use the Truth
as an excuse for dying

For Truth was wed
to Life
at the dawn of creation
But you,
with good intentions,
have made her your slave.
Dressed her up in the
finest
calico.
(well-worn but durable,
sewn strong by the hands of Ol' Regret)
You laced her up tight
in that garment.
And took her to Death's door.

payment for a debt.

He did not hesitate.

Now, Truth
wrung dry and wretched
is tormented.
She can never know Life again.
And there is only one way out
of this
calico hell.

She prayed
for forgiveness
And for the memory of Life to
keep her breathing long enough
To feel the silencing of Death's seeds in her belly
Twins:
Resignation and Mediocrity
She plucked the herb
And ate it whole.

Pale and cloaked,
Life stands over the grave.

Untitled (Inspired by For Colored Girls)

2011-07-05T19:46:00.000-07:00

Your laughter
Her clasped hands white knuckled
That woman's chatter
reckless spilling of excess words
trying to explain
away...
Her defensiveness
Her powerlessness
And all of them in me
force the question:

What if we decided
to tell the truth about ourselves?
What if we trusted each other enough
to be honest?
What if we found God in ourselves,
and gave up pretending
Pretentious
Fairy tales of Righteousness?

Gave up the hiding game
masking our hurt with designer outfits and degrees and hobbies
Church functions
and relationships and Righteousness?
Gave up clenched teeth
holding back screams

***

We are alive
Because nobody ever told us that death
was an option

Life
is a choice

but we are slaves to it.

***

Centuries
spent wading through
Dark and freezing cold
slimy bogs of
Hands

Strong Hands grabbing at my ankles
but i don't look down
i just pull and tug and
twist and kick and FIGHT
until their grips slips long enough for me to
take that next step.

that next vital step
is all i want
all i was placed here for
why? toward what?
that next step is my reason for struggling
my reason for fighting
my reason for being
alive
i must continue
to be alive
keep moving... keep moving
keep... moving....

***

clenched teeth holding back the screams

meanwhile those
hands
attached to bodies with hearts
that stopped beating
bulging eyes
drowned alive
held under water
ignored

those hands
dead now, but still moving
for mouths, wishing they had screamed
moving
needing you to acknowledge
their existence
their struggle
their fight
that is their reason now
to keep grabbing
keep pulling
keep moving... moving
but they are not alive.

And your clenched teeth holding back their screams
do none of us any good.

trying to be a lady
trying to march onward
trying to maintain your sanity
in a bog of pain!
too busy preserving your Righteousness
to let yourself go
down with them
into the bog

go
look your pain in its bulging
eyes and let it embrace you
love it back
let it whisper to you
and remind you of the things
that you know
look into your dead self
and choose to live

No more clenched teeth
Smiling propriety
No more worries about being loved or left or ladylike
No more high roads up back-breaking hills
or self-suppression in the name
of being the bigger person
No more laughing at jokes that debase me
or just plain aren't funny
No more soft words and averted
eyes as shards of reality wielded by a Bold spirit
pierce me and
beg me to curse and scream and cry
No more false choices, or concealed options

No more swallowed moans
turned into heart-wrenching hymns
That someone called 'spiritual'

And it is
Pain is Spiritual
but it is also inevitable
not meant for the cause of your Righteousness
The lie we tell ourselves
That fairytale we created to
explain away the pain
to make existence worthwhile
To ease the sharp absence of 'why'

It didn't happen because, baby
Not because you needed to be
Stronger
Wiser
or more compassionate or mature or humble
It didn't happen to transform you into that silhouetted
Black Female Face
closed eyes closed lips
ears muffled under hair or hat or wrap
always tilted up toward
the sky...
Righteous
silent strength
clenching back screams!

It didn't happen because, honey
it just happened
And you are still Whole
Don't be so shocked by this
because you've always been Whole
The day you were born and centuries before
You were Whole
And you will always be Whole
And you can never be made un-Whole
You can only ever be made more Whole

So scream!
Curse and cry and kick!
Stop taking all of that shit!
Yes, they praise you for carrying
their burdens on your shoulders
But it's time you realized
that's a damn trick!
And that your strong back and good teeth and quick mind and
fertile womb and creativity and healing powers
and love
don't have to be for sale
anymore!

***

Maybe,
if I would just
tell the truth about myself
I wouldn't feel so misunderstood.
And maybe if I really believed
in love
I could draw it to myself
just being myself.

And perhaps if
I gave up the act
I would gain the key to
Everything...
The Wholeness
The Holiness
of Myself
Released

Lovers of Love

2010-12-13T09:16:00.000-08:00

the thing that caused the Goddess to recreate herself in two
is the same thing that compels the cell to split

lonliness
or
the desire for love

and so the universe continues to expand itself in two directions
only to come around full circle
meeting itself at both ends
one larger, one smaller
both perfect reflections of the other
One
the Snake swallowing its own tail
eternity coiling around inside itself
a vortex
the Universe
giving birth to/being swallowed up by its own Black Hole
Whole
beyond holiness
Complete
beyond comprehension

All Things
are Lovers of Love

Brew

2010-11-19T06:44:00.000-08:00

In the end, it always comes down to a choice.

One between love and peace, passion and happiness. Although I sing loud the praises of love and passion, I tend to choose peace and happiness. Perhaps some of us are meant to stand outside the chaos, admiring its volatile beauty. We're there to remind those inside the cauldron that fire and water are necessary for their growth, and that they will ascend to the heavens with the sweet-smelling steam.

We dance at weddings, bless babies, write great love poems. Seasoning, tasting, adding. Stoking the flames.

We stir the pot.

It's necessary.

Sunflower

2010-08-27T06:41:00.000-07:00

a silent 'if' lurks in front of everything you say
and while i appreciate the truth it carries
for me it's just a little scary
and i really don't see what's wrong with a bit of -
certainty -
anyway

even if it's false

and i know it sounds crazy
but you have to understand
that i'd rather be devastated then than lukewarm now (LET'S LIVE)
love, even as you hold me close every night
it feels as if you've got one foot out of the bed
and i guess those old insomniac tendencies die hard because
even with limbs interlocked and no space in-between
i sometimes get a chill from you
well meant, yes
and even refreshing
but it destroys the warmth i need to fully relax

wakes me up a bit

wish you would let go of your carefulness and measured statements
wish you would be here with me
in the lovers' dream
in the never-ending paradise of todays and tomorrows and ever-afters
wish you would let me love you
as if i had you
wish you would give up your fears about burning me
and provide for me the light and the warmth i need
to open up
completely

and i know you would appreciate
the beauty
of the seeds of so many futures inside
and the miracle
of the thousand petals that mimic your loverays but
make it tangible
it could be real
this intimate relationship between sun and sunflower
who, even from a billion light years
love each other truly
and you can tell because they even look alike
it could be you and me
if only
you would consider the possibility...

and don't worry: i admit
that i've played the fool too many times
but even i know
that every promise
isn't kept

so just let it be summer
for now
and as for winter

let's cross that bridge
when we get to it.

A New Way

2009-12-20T20:10:00.000-08:00

It was well overdue.

You see, normally, I am not the type that breaks down. Until I am. And then I do. I really do. An extreme bull, I am sometimes stubborn to the point of self-delusion or even harm (unintentional, of course). My preferred method for dealing with problems usually involves seeing red, running around in circles (literally and figuratively - don't judge me), and then charging directly into the obstacle du jour. This hardly ever solves the problem; in fact it just ensures that I'll have to clean up an even bigger mess later. But, it gets me through to the next day, and the next problem, and the next adrenaline-fueled super push, and so on. Until...

Something happens, a miracle to beat all miracles. I find myself fresh out of problems (major ones, anyway). I look around, and it seems that somehow I've ended up somewhere at least similar to the place that I intended on going. "Well, I'll be damned..." Touched by the grace of Life, and more than that, tired, bruised and hurting, I collapse. In the stillness after the fall, a sensitive soul rises to the surface, the full weights of its pain and anger in tow. I can bear nothing more. It's as if I've reached the promised land, but the sunlight burns, and the air is too fresh to breathe. I'm not used to feeling anymore; the return of my senses is crippling.

Nothing could take me down before. Now, anything can. Any little thing.

The breakdown. And as I mentioned before, this one was well overdue. The breakthrough-breakdown cycle used to operate like clockwork. At the end of every semester, after the exams had done their worst, I finally found time to address whatever life had thrown at me during the course of the fall or spring. But my real-life problems have a tendency to drag on more than four months, and my psyche has no choice but to accommodate them, right? In short, the past two (three? four? eh, who's counting) years have been quite a ride. They've gone something like this:

A Failed Marriage!? Infidelity?! Sordid Details?!

Screw that!!! I'm out!!!

School all day, work all night?!

Why not?!? I can do it?! I love a good challenge!! (??)

Dream Job Gone Bad!? My "Soul Mate" Doesn't Want Me?!? Deceit?!? Manipulation?!?

Okay, well, screw that too!!! I'm out!!!

Paying Bills for a House I Don't Live In?!!? Countless Financial Woes!?

Hahaha! I laugh in the face of creditors!! You think I don't know it's you calling from that strange number, AquaFinance?! Well, think again! 'Click!'

Yeah... I didn't say I was proud of it.
Anyway, the last two weeks have been even more scary. The dramatic beginnings of what I'm sure will shape up to be an impressive breakdown finale:

A flat tire.

(sob for hours)

Accidentally erase pictures from my computer.

(sob for hours)

Have to purchase antivirus software.

(almost curse out a techie, then sob - while still on the phone with him - but only for about 45 minutes, and I'm not sure if he could tell...)

Read an article about mothers and daughters.

(sob...)

Relationship flashback.

(sob...)

Watch a TV commercial.

(sob...)

You get it by now.

I'm not bipolar, I promise. I don't need any medication, but I do need a better way of dealing with life. I'm not exactly sure where to begin, but I think "The New Way," as I'm calling it (it sounds so spiritual, right? so MetaphyZeNirvana...), will involve cultivating deeper and wider relationships, doing what I love, finding ways to forgive, and being still much more often. It sounds good, but for me, it's going to be rough.

Here goes nothin'...

Falling: Love and Want

2009-12-20T16:31:00.000-08:00

Although you are not God
you have the power
in my life
to turn blessings into cursings

Please stay.

Although it is clear
that you are only a man
it seems you are the dance my hips were made for
What is a poet without her muse?
Pebbles along my path
The one I came back for.

After the storm, in the midst of it
you are the calm rushing in
to soothe.
The hand of Life
salvaging gems from the ashes
reintroducing me to the beauty of
being a woman
being myself.

Although I know I cannot have you
I would like to keep you -
the good, the bad and pure of you
the tangible honesty (wholeness)
that i have become accustomed to -
for now.
Please stay.

2009-10-05T20:02:00.000-07:00

Why do we fear the things we want the most?

sunlight

2009-08-02T09:01:00.000-07:00

sun rose this morning
as if for the first time
playfully reached out and coaxed me into waking life
presented a gift:
you are still here

light dances across your eyelids
fingers follow close behind, shy and excited
eyes open
and
bring me into an awareness -
the universe is complete
love cannot be created or destroyed
and god is real -

you are a pleasant surprise everyday

Agreed.

2009-06-30T20:08:00.000-07:00

I am
way.
too.
deep.

I consulted my nerves on this issue
They gathered their aunties -
anxiety and fear -
and we all sat down
and had a pow-wow.

They advised
that I should leave you be.
pull back
let the embers cool
think
until I realize
that leaping
was never a good idea in the first place.

Indeed.
It seems as if my very life is contingent upon obedience to their orders.
But
i am a hellion
made of dirt and light
and i don't take direction well.
Besides
i'll take a sweet death over a stale life
any day.

So i dismissed the council
and called to you
but you were there
standing with them
in the dark.

they were whispering to you

One Man's Soul

2009-06-25T20:27:00.000-07:00

I heard the news in a hospital room, while holding my newborn cousin for the first time: Michael Jackson, regarded by many as the greatest entertainer of our time, is dead at 50 years old.

I am in shock, along with the rest of the world. Michael was an icon, an untouchable, larger than life. His persona seemed to be based on an energy beyond that of a normal human being, and his music touched people in ways usually attributed to transcendental spiritual experiences. People have been known to faint in his presence. He was the first and only of his kind. He was Michael Jackson.

The swell of emotions we are collectively experiencing reflects the sense of awe that Michael inspired. We are mournful - between his music and the media's obsession, it seems as if we knew him. We are celebrating - a giant has walked in our midst. We are still, both to honor his memory and embrace our confusion - what now? What will we do without him?

But if we are honest, we will realize that we all knew long before now that Michael was mortal.

The last few years of Jackson's life were plagued with controversy, and even at peak fame he was regarded as a bit of an odd bird. From pet chimps and back yard Ferris wheels to horrifying accusations of sexual crimes against children, Michael Jackson held rank as possibly the weirdest super-celebrity of our time. Record sales dropped, tabloids pounced, comedians made jokes and we all laughed, but inside, we were a little sad. Here was a man who was a genius among his peers, yet so deeply disturbed that it seemed he would never enjoy a normal life. Poor Michael.

His death raises important questions about legacy, redemption and reconciliation. I wonder if he had a moment to forgive those that hurt him, to repent for wrongs committed, to let his demons go. I wonder if he was at peace when he passed, if he felt he had lived his best life. Did the good outweigh the bad? How will we remember him, and who was he, really?

We'll never know, but I'll pray for his spirit to rest in harmony with the divine. What I do know is that the impact he had cannot be snuffed out as easily as the frail human form; his legacy is forever etched on the walls of our social structure.

In all the fun-making and lamentation over Michael during the past decade or so, we forgot that he actually made very significant contributions to our culture. He broke down barriers, internal and external, with beats and lyrics. Pop chart-toppers like "Thriller" and "Bad" busted through MTV's obvious color code. Social harmonizers such as "We are the World" brought us together in grand Kumbaya style. And heart prickers like "Man in the Mirror," "Have you seen my childhood?" and "Will you be there?" exposed the complexities of human emotion, begging us to look inside his soul as well as our own.

If we are honest, the view was muddy. And beautiful.

Rest in peace Michael.
June 25, 2009, The Day the Music Died

poem for the sea

2009-06-22T19:47:00.000-07:00

I stand at your edge
wondering if you will invite me in
There is magic in the way the sun glistens on your face

I am awestruck
you are at once
cold and warm
creator and destroyer
I know that, venturing out, you may prove me
or break me
Still, i crave the adventure
and the healing of floating with you toward the horizon

You are beyond my control - a microcosm of Life
Seldom coaxed, never conquered
I cannot call you to me
but my spirit swells
as i stand and wait
for the tide.

New blog coming soon...

2009-06-21T14:41:00.000-07:00

Hey people!

First, let me apologize - this isn't a real post. :( I just wanted to give everybody a heads up about the "Love Shack" - a new blog, featuring my alter ego as the lead writer, creator, liberator, lover and general head chic in charge. I've decided it's time to show the world my other side...

Meanwhile, this blog will stay active (if you can call it that) until the universe shuts it down. Check back for more updates and the new blog soon!

LOVE!

Carmen Renee
xoxoxoxoxoxo

Love is...?

2009-03-29T21:08:00.000-07:00

I've heard love described as many things: a drug, a gun, a gift, a chemical reaction, an illusion, God.

What is it to you?

Untitled

2009-03-29T20:38:00.000-07:00

I am not all that you think.
I am not the girl who never cries
Nor am I the girl who is always cool
I am not the sexy woman
Or your mother.

I can cook
but not every night.
I absolutely hate to clean, but I will when I have to
And sometimes, I break promises.

I am often late
I hate being late
Which means I am often annoyed with myself
I don't mean to direct it at you.

I sometimes speak the exact opposite of my feelings
in order to gage your reaction
(I'm sorry. it's automatic - i don't plan it that way)
Please know that I don't hate you.

My poems hardly ever rhyme.

And I want you
Despite the certainty that one day you will break my heart
And go on living.

fresh air/holiness

2009-02-13T20:15:00.000-08:00

it is possible
that you will never
ever
love me

i know.

but it's so hard for me to enjoy you
without loving you

i cannot breathe without opening my lungs
to the air
and i cannot Live without opening my heart
to you.

i can't hold either one for more than a moment.
air is not meant to be held
but captured
and released before it becomes toxic.
perhaps it is so
with you

hope: will you let me capture you
for that moment?
gift me with your presence
rushing in
and open my eyes to life?
feed me, heal me
until you have to leave

only if i promise not to hold you too long?...

***
the spirit Selah smiles
watching the body to whom she's become so attached
this perplexed human girl
always finding herself in a mess
pure comic delight

she laughs bells
and sighs a rustling breeze
before spreading her wings
and descending upon the childlike creature

again and again she has watched the girl
stumbling upon love
in the oddest places
fumbling to remove it from its shell.
and then, proud as prize peach pie
she places it
in the pocket
with the hole in it.
loses it
before she regains her course
every time.

poor thing.

perhaps one day she will realize
that all pockets have holes
because loves are not meant to be kept
forever. they are wild and precious things
sacred in the sight of god, and they prefer to make their own way-
always through the thicket, never in the clear. they are hard to track,
but take kindly to the chase, and they always lead
their followers
to water.
an unpredictable and exhausting journey, complemented by the sweetest rest...
but one thing is sure:
you will never know a love long
if you try to take it with you.

the girl looks down
and watches the dust turn to mud on her toes.
she has found another hole
where her love used to be.
Selah swoops in to comfort

***
(revelation(?))

i promise
not to hold you
too long

A few thoughts...

2008-11-15T21:46:00.000-08:00

Tonight, I am at a point in my life where I am very, very tired. I am exhausted by the constant transition, overwhelmed from being inundated with massive issues that ride into my life as punctually as the tide. I am tired of trying to figure it all out, which is funny, because I've hardly begun to try in the first place.

In fact, I'm too tired to finish this blog the way I intended to when I started. So, here are some things I've been thinking lately, just the raw deal, no fancy stuff.:

1. My soon-to-be ex-husband confuses the crap out of me, and it's so annoying. I do not regret our fights. Although I am remorseful and hurt by the memories, they were actually quite therapeutic for me. I think I'll take up kickboxing...

2. I am still very drawn to Christ and some Christian teachings, but I have not been to church regularly since 2007. Every time I go I remember why I stopped going. (Cue MJB's "No Drama"). But I will say that something in me really wants to have a solid spiritual connection with other people. That must be why I manage to muster up the self-induced amnesia that carries me through a dense fog and into the pews of a church once every six months. I need a new fix...

3. My personality has gone through some wild changes lately, at least to the outsider looking in. I, like most people, adjust to the world around me. I try my best to learn the lessons life presents to me, and modify my behavior accordingly. I am not unchanged by everything that has happened, and one part of me finds that fascinating, maybe even exciting. That's how life is lived - we change.

Another part of me is absolutely terrified about what that means for my future. There's a line in Their Eyes Were Watching God that I'll never forget: "Janie's first dream was dead, so she became a woman." The changes I've been going through lately all have to do with dead and dying dreams, so I guess I'm a woman now. Don't get me wrong, I'm proud. It makes me feel good to have come through some things, to have the kind of strength that has been tested. Still, as the quotation implies, there's a kind of morbidity that comes with this brand of maturity. There's a numbness to it. I'm afraid I'll end up another bitter black woman, damaged goods, or at the very least, just not special. True, I've learned a few things, become better in some ways, but in exchange some invisible hand has reached inside of me and started messing with the dimmer switch. This little light of mine isn't shining so bright anymore... and that scares me.

I saw one of MJB's SUV commercials the other day. Modern-day Mary was driving, and various Marys from other eras were filling the passenger and back seats. There were no words through the whole thing, until Modern Mary gets out and opens the trunk. The next shot is them driving away, with luggage on the sidewalk behind them. Then the voice over man says "The space to take everything with you, the wisdom to leave the baggage behind." At that, I burst into spontaneous tears (which I do a lot these days).

I want that. I want to own my innocence and my experience, and not have them cancel each other out. I want to make a purposeful decision to leave the burdens behind. I want a flicker of an idea about how to begin that process. And I want the courage, the hope, and the energy to follow through.

I also want your support, whoever you are. I can use all the help I can get. Keep me in your thoughts and prayers, please.

Peace.

goodbye

2008-10-06T20:41:00.000-07:00

you didn't ask me
to stay
and that's when i knew
it was love.

loveseed

potential all wrapped up in
a kiss
a caress
an honest word
a profound relaxing of the senses that happens
when we meet.

spirit, truth, beauty
all wrapped up
in a revelation.

but no place for it to grow
(for both our hearts are fallow)
and no time

so, in its place, my lover
(my love)
here is a bittersweet, practical
goodbye

For the man that killed poetry.

2008-10-06T20:30:00.001-07:00

It doesn't blame you, dear one.
You should know that
my soul is satisfied now.
Awakened and resurrected and made new
by the Spirit of love.

She knows it was her own god that slew her
though you bore the sword.
She doesn't resent you;
It was the emptiness, the open spaces she left
that echoed her torment
and turned it into loathing.
Straining not to collapse upon itself
it was the hollowness
that hated you.

But she is alive now
bringing me back her warmth
and you have no need to repent
any longer.

If there is anyone she shrinks from still
it is I.
I served her up as offering
I watched, and let her die.
It will take
many beginnings and ends
but we too will be reconciled.
We press...

And in the midst of this patching-up of things
this sewing on of my shadow - soul talks,
we realized that
in all our years
we had never written you a poem.
So here you are:

you are
forgiven.
be at peace.

Flipping the Script

2008-10-02T21:59:00.000-07:00

Okay.

So have you ever had someone you thought you were close to totally show their tail, and then act like you were the one in the wrong? And did it annoy the snot out of you, but still somehow begin to work, like some crazy Jedi mind trick? And then when you snapped back into reality, did it make you want to drag that bamma out to the curb and go Gary Coleman on 'em?

Because it's happened to me, several times. Am I the only one? Do I attract manipulative people, or is it that the odds are against me, because most people are crazy and manipulative? I'm hoping for the former, because at least I have some control of that one.

false prophet

2008-09-26T12:26:00.000-07:00

Part I
tell me
should i be ashamed of my needs?
why?
they are sacred
not in the sacrificial sense
but bold and real
tender and intimate and demanding
like god
growing and changing
like me

why do you look at me that way?
as if you are trying to disguise your judgement
as if you could judge me?
i am holy
not necessarily pure
i am no lamb, no virgin, no pristine watery-eyed thing
but i am good
beautiful and real
like life

not all of God's children are called to be martyrs.

Part II
it seems, my love
that you have even fooled yourself.

i will pray your strength, false prophet
for you will carry that cross
alone.
still, remember me...

salvation is not in your hands
you are not my hero
but you will die for this.
and i will pray, for your sake
that you will rise again
and live.

Work. Do. Be?

2008-09-19T22:44:00.000-07:00

My mother says I work too hard.

She has felt this way as long as I can remember, but growing up her constant, motherly warnings of "you need to sitch-yo-self down somewhere," "don't take yourself so seriously, Carmen" and "when are you going to rest?" always confused me. I was hardly the biggest overachiever among my peers. The hallways of the schools I attended were filled with hundreds of scrubbed black, brown, yellow and pink faces, all glowing with possibility. Many of them wanted to be doctors, lawyers, veterinarians and marine biologists. (Actually, I think my entire class went through a marine biology phase in the fifth grade or so - some textbook had left us all obsessed with manatees.) I had only wanted to write, novels at first and then articles after my father insisted that journalism was a more stable way for a writer to make a living. Sure, I was involved. But the other kids were student government officers, captains of sports teams, torchbearers for important causes. I was smart, but no genius. Good, but not the best. Busy, but not too busy. At least that's how I felt back then...

I look back at my high school photos now and marvel. How did that girl do it?! My last year in high school I was co-editor of our school newspaper and a senior member of the Dance Company. I also held down a part-time job, completed a Research Practicum for the science and technology program, and managed a full course load including 2 AP classes. I did all of of this in addition to college applications, and had some pretty fruitful relationships.

I look at the pictures in amazement. That only slightly younger me was Superwoman, and I'm afraid I will never live up to her legacy. But then I begin to squint. I let my head lay to one side as the alternating questions of how? and why? begin to run through my head.

My senior year in college I led an on-campus Bible study and was the head choreographer for the associated dance group. I held an executive committee position in the Black Student Movement. I had a job as a Resident Adviser, served on the Union Board of Directors, completed two majors and planned a wedding. I managed it all, perhaps not as well as I did in high school (it helps to have someone who makes sure you get up for class), but well. Still, how? Why?

***

I feel lazy now, when I look at my peers. Like I'm not making good enough use of myself. Something pricks at me when I see them walking by so quickly, accomplishing everything in a day. To think, just seconds earlier I had been enjoying my stroll. How... unproductive.

***

I look at myself in the mirror now and resist the urge to hang my head. Instead, I stare. Few traces of the young woman I used to be remain. I have searched for her, tried to reconstruct her from memory. Her energy, her fire, is gone. Or perhaps it is somewhere hidden, buried underneath the layers of uniforms I wear and never take off, like a treasure. I think one day God went and hid it from me, knowing that if it remained at hand I would use up the sacred thing much too early in life, and on the wrong things. Hopefully.

At any rate it's not there. And to me, I am beginning to look old. Someone told me the other day I could pass for seventeen if I didn't open my mouth. But he doesn't know how bright my eyes used to be. He wasn't close enough to see the burgundy peeking through the skin of my eyelids, or the lines beginning to etch themselves on my forehead. Where did this come from? I'm not old; I'm 24! Young, and profoundly disappointed in myself for misplacing my multitasking skills somewhere between college graduation and here. Praying that I can fake it until retirement.

What is wrong with me? Do I have lupus? Maybe sickle cell? Perhaps it's some lethal, undetectable form of cancer that will make the fact that I only do some things (instead of everything) more acceptable. At my funeral, they will say, "even though she was sick, she still managed to do This." And then This will be enough.

Wishful thinking. Chances are that I don't have cancer, lupus, sickle cell anemia or any other get-out-of-doing-more free ailment. So, the questions return, slightly revised. How did I get so lazy? Why am I so tired?

The thrill is gone, and even though the things I do now hardly match the hustle that some expect of me - that I used to expect of myself - I hardly have the energy to sit up straight. In fact, I'm slouching now, writing this after a Friday night spent planning and working. It's not enough though. I could have done more. Honestly, though, I don't want to. But I will. I must.

Actually, you don't have to do any of this at all.

The thought presents itself, clear but gentle, and remains still for a few seconds. Then it proceeds to clink against the walls of my mind like a pinball, noisy, shiny and busy. However, making no valuable contact with my intellectual senses, it rolls back down and out of my head, settling in my chest.

It's heavy. I slouch a little more.

But if I didn't do this, what would I do? Without doing, who would I be? Why would I be? And how?

The answers that have been swirling around in my gut have recognized their chance. They threaten an uprising, first to overtake my heart, then my mind. But fear, old master, swoops in like a night rider and suppresses their liberation attempts. Good.

Sad, but good.

Truths such as those beg action. I am not ready. I'll choose not to think those thoughts tonight. For now, I'll just sleep. I have to wake up early tomorrow. I have a lot to do.

(P.S. I get it now, Mom.)

the intellectual

2008-09-19T21:48:00.000-07:00

the house is built strong
for safety and
protection
but why, my love
do you sleep
on the porch?

the place for sitting
cooly observing
solving the problems of those
whose business you feel privy to
is no place to find
rest

yes, it is beautiful
you did a fine job building it
but the porch will become faded
and soon begin to sag
under the weight of the elements,
constant activity
and all your heavy thinking

where then
shall you go?

i need you to go in from there
turn off the lights
and awaken the spirit that you only allow to emerge
in the midst of darkness
then,
filled with it's warmth
reach out
and invite me in.

things i'm not supposed to think

2008-09-18T09:11:00.000-07:00

1. Some children are demons sent directly from hell to torment their teachers.

2. I wish I had a butt/ breasts/ skin/ legs/ teeth/ etc. like hers.

3. "You made me hit you!"

4. My cousin is really, really attractive...

5. And the BIG one: Sometimes I wonder if I'll ever find anyone better than my soon-to-be ex-husband. My brain screams "YES! He was a total bastard!!! You can do so much better!" But honestly, something in my heart doesn't know. Is this because I secretly think that deep down he's a great guy and/or vastly improving, and I should have given it another shot? Maybe. But it's more likely that I just think all men are bastards, on some level, and the bastard you know is better than the bastard you don't know, right?

Plus, I get lonely. That probably qualifies as another thought that a strong black woman of the new millenium shouldn't think. However, it's my truth, and I would venture to say that most of the folks this side of 55 claiming to be a part of the "alone but never lonely" crowd are delusional. Never? Come on...

Still, would I sacrifice my dreams and hopes to return to a comfortable but overwhelmingly mediocre marriage? No.

I don't think...

Anyway, enough rambling. Here's an interesting article I read recently, somewhat related to this post: http://www.cnn.com/2008/LIVING/personal/08/26/o.divorce.dreams/ Very thought provoking for me, but a good read regardless.

Take care people!

comfort

2008-09-10T22:51:00.000-07:00

in a moment of confusion, i asked
"where am i?"
spiritually speaking

i was told, "somewhere between here and there"
god is funny

it answered a questioned unasked
"stop seeking and find"

so here i am.

thank you

2008-09-07T22:09:00.000-07:00

in response to blu moon's "the answer...": http://blumoon85.blogspot.com/2008/09/answer.html

my dear sister~

thank you so much. that was the answer i needed.

it's funny that in the midst of a divorce i think i value love more than ever before. i want love. i need love. i love love. i AM love. i think...

i dream of it constantly and without effort. but then i open my eyes and i just see all the obstacles, again without effort. and i realize that i'm a bit jaded; i haven't come through this thing without scars. which is natural, i guess, but still kind of depressing. is it possible to not be wounded? but who will want the wounded me?

...life is full of conflict for a cynical romantic. but i will remain open to miracles.

Question...

2008-09-03T15:20:00.000-07:00

Does anybody ever fall in love anymore? I mean really in love?

Please comment.

poem for the river II

2008-09-01T11:47:00.001-07:00

i am an earth sign.
stable,
more practical than i like to admit.
you cut through me like water.

persistent, gentle, powerful
natural.
fully unaware that you
are changing me.

smoothing my rough places
soothing
and moistening
where i was parched.
carrying pieces of me away
and changing my shape.
making me softer
so that you are harder
to resist.

and i allow it
because i have no choice.
and it feels so good.
the ease,
the helplessness of it all.
a force of nature that overtakes my own.
i want to be carried away on your current
because it feels like living.

even though i know the truth.

that one day
you will deposit me on a strange bank
and keep flowing.
fully unaware
that you have moved me.

The Revolution Has Been Televised

2008-08-28T21:12:00.000-07:00

Barack Obama just accepted the presidential nomination of the Democratic Party. I just finished sobbing. I never thought I would see it in my lifetime - a Black man with a real chance at being President. Never.

I didn't think I would react so strongly. In fact, many of the emotions my soul has released this week of the Democratic National Convention have caught me off guard. Yesterday, when Obama came onstage only for a brief moment, my body immediately leaped off the couch and proceeded to dance and shout for several minutes, without warning. Like a child celebrating the appearance of a hero, I felt proud, safe, happy... free. I wore myself out dancing and chanting last night, and then marveled at the effect this man had on me.

Make no mistake, I have always been amazed by Barack Obama, and all that his nomination means for America. I have been a staunch supporter for quite some time. Still, this week has been... different, especially tonight. As he delivered his acceptance speech, I thought to myself, "They can finally see us." I said it aloud, whispered it to myself. They can see us.

I have no idea where that thought came from. I had no idea that I felt invisible until just that moment. Nonetheless, when Obama accepted the nomination, something broke open inside of me and then began to heal. At once I felt affirmed, acknowledged. Seen.

Black Americans were born inside the gates of America, but far from the comfort of the home. Generation by generation, we have inched closer to the house where our white brothers and sisters reside. The Civil Rights Movement took us directly to the front steps, where we protested and prayed and sang and shouted and were noticed, but only for a little while. As decades passed and the memories of our great leaders faded into history, America removed us from its focus, and we began to blend in with our surroundings. We became permanent fixtures on the porch of America's home - accepted, sometimes appreciated and bragged about (for aesthetic reasons - the trendy look of diversity), but largely passed by, unnoticed. We have never been acknowledged as people, five-fifths human. We have never been invited in. Every now and then, someone finds the chutzpa to knock at the door. But there has never been an answer. The door has never been opened.

Until now.

Obama is a man none of us can deny. He is intelligent, spiritual, and sincere - called for this purpose. Barack Obama holds the key to the door of a new America. With his message of hope and belief in dreams, he has opened the eyes of all Americans. Now they see us.

More importantly, now we have the opportunity to see ourselves in a whole new way. We can begin to shed the insecurities, the inferiority complexes, the robes of stress we acquire from operating in a world where we feel out of control and incapable, on varying levels, every day. Now, when we tell our kids that they can be anything they want, we can believe it, and they can believe in themselves. When they come home from school and say that they want to be the future Presidents of the United States of America, we don't have to smile and nod while silently disregarding it as a pipe dream. We can see ourselves now. Aren't we beautiful?

I do not think that electing Barack Obama into office will instantly overturn the racism that has been ingrained in our institutions since the nation's birth. To expect such would be ridiculous. However, I do feel that his election will be a great leap toward the healing of the Black American psyche. Even in coming this far, he has provided us the chance to take up the pride, courage, and self-love that we lost somewhere in the midst of Cointelpro, crack, and BET. He has done wonders for me in just a night.

I think that tomorrow I will wake with a fresh kind of confidence and a new sense of community: America. I will expect to be seen as I pass by, so I will wave. I will expect to be heard, so I will open my mouth and speak. Amazing. If other people feel the way I do, then things really can change. Barack Obama is the leader of a new revolution. Who knew that it would be televised?

Thanks, Future President Obama, for helping us all see.

Inspirations

2008-08-27T21:10:00.000-07:00

So, after a euphoric high point this summer followed recently by a slight lull, I find myself trying to get back on the path to sunlight and dream-living. Here are some of the quotations that have inspired me lately:

"This is our goal, to experience the fullness of life by being active participants in the living process."
~Blu Moon

"I live my life the way I want. I've got nothing to hide, nothing at all."
~Ayo, "Life is Real"

"Don't ask what the world needs. Ask what makes you come alive, and go do it. Because what the world needs is people who have come alive."
~Howard Thurman

"Knowledge is a process of piling up facts; wisdom is their simplification."
~Martin H. Fisher

"Live your life with a purpose beyond yourself, and you'll find that the world is as bold and broad as the interests that brought you here today."
~Bryant Gumbel

"A hard worker has plenty of food, but a person who chases fantasies has no sense."
~Proverbs 12:11

...and this entire article: http://www.oprah.com/article/omagazine/200809_omag_beck_coach/1

poem for the river

2008-08-25T22:25:00.000-07:00

you
asked me
if i thought
i could love you.
i said that
i could.
truth.

Snapshot Poem: "Wide Eyes"

2008-08-24T23:26:00.000-07:00

Maybe if I
Gave it a shot
I could fly
In my dreams
Again

Perhaps if I let loose and shined my light
Showed my pride
Bore my teeth
Wore my smile
I might be once again
Free

I think that I can reach that place again
In fact, I know that I’m (headed) there
And I would like to share, with you
The beauty of love and awareness
The wonder of the sun

Would love to find balance
And work toward nirvana with you
Ecstasy in your arms
Manifest visions that rest behind eyelids
Flying in my dreams
With you

I want to love you the most in the present moment
Won’t wait for tomorrow
To just be with you
I will give my greatest gifts to you
If you will accept
My love
And constant transition

We can grow together
Dig deep into the Earth and be buried alive in each others’ skin together
Burst through the soil and become new life together
Look, reach for the sun together
Drop the fruit that the birds eat and take to the skies together
Free fall together, back toward home
And start all over together

You can be my love, my partner
I your confidante and trusted friend
And we can enjoy, together
The life we create from love
In the wide open spaces of the moment

Snapshot Poem: "The Prodigal"

2008-08-24T23:23:00.000-07:00

Rebellious
mind whirling, body sinking, soul convulsing
still pressing outward
away from the fire
that burned

scared, but independent
determined, but unsure
can dreams come true?
or is my ultimate destination
a mirage

must find out
will not be bound
by spirit or truth
don’t want to act
perfect
for their sake
uneasy, to acknowledge the heaven
and not the earth
the clouds
without the dirt

but spirit and flesh coexist
not always friends
not always enemies
but companions

so, gone into darkness to find
pieces of self that make spirit smile
or cringe, both are necessary for now
and if this journey should lead to a return
spirit will put it all back together again
and exhale a pleasant sigh
that her flesh
is home

Snapshot Poem: "Salvation"

2008-08-24T23:20:00.000-07:00

How can I save the world
If I can’t even save myself?

But then,
I suppose
I haven’t thought I could save myself
for a while
I was told
He would do it
He was the only one who could
But I think I messed it up
Put it on wrong
Somewhere in the midst of the waves and wind
My own ignorance
The rope He threw into the sea for me
Became a noose

I wonder if
By the time the storm subsides
I’ll be dead anyway

And it’s too late now
To choose
A dignified death
Death my way
I would have rather drowned
Been lost forever at sea
Had them remember me smiling, enjoying the water even as it consumed me
Than having them drag my heavy body ashore
Screaming, wailing, gasping
At my bloated, unrecognizable features
Recoiling at the site of my body
Their daughter, sister, friend
Within reach
But no glimpse of who she used to be
More than dead
Gone

Might be what happens

But then again
I suppose
I haven’t thought I could save myself
For a while
Which means I haven’t tried…

Snapshot Poem: "Untitled Part II"

2008-08-24T23:19:00.000-07:00

II

Perhaps I am wrong
They are superwomen
Living dreams
Leaving me behind
Perhaps I am missing out
On the beauty of life
Always longing for it

I wonder perhaps,
If a part of me is missing
Dead before birth
10 fingers
10 toes
But no emotional competence
Lacking the ability to maintain the connections
I so sincerely need
Drive and follow-through, nil
A deficit of action
And overcompensating imagination

And so I spend my days
Imagining a life like theirs
Scared to find out the hard way

Snapshot Poem: "Might"

2008-08-24T23:07:00.000-07:00

might have to end it all
after all
it’s all over anyway
tired of the confusion
upset with my own delusions
but not wanting to substitute their illusions
God knows I’ve wanted to figure it out
and I’ve tried with all my…

might have to run away
too scared what will happen to me if I stay
and settling down into this quicksand fate
mocks the thought of destiny
makes all of the prophecies seem like hypocrisy
don’t want to pay the cost
so maybe I’ll just get lost
write a letter saying “I can’t do this anymore; I’m tired
but I really did love you, with all of my…”

might have to make a life out of this
quilt a blanket of joy
from the tattered pieces of dreams never to be realized
the broken pieces of me behind the disguise
elders said stay, and if I strive to be wise
I must first heed wisdom
(I suppose)
want to make the adult decision
but in this situation my immaturity has come raging out of remission
and He’s tried to use that double-edged sword to make an incision
though He slay me
but I feel like I’m bleeding to death
flesh and spirit draining from my side until there’s nothing left
head hung low
Father, why have you forsaken me!
really, do you know what it’s like to be slain?
for me it is too much
and I don’t think I can bear this weight
I don’t think I can live this life
I don’t think I can take another step
on this path
too weak, and too angry to follow behind a crowd I’m not sure if I trust anymore
too wary too find out if I can trust anymore
but something small and still within me is still believing that He loves me with all of His..

might have to let it all go
give up the fantasy for good
open the gates
and let my emotions flow
trust that God will calm the waters, and that time will show
that a good life here is possible
that I can overcome all the obstacles
that peace
and love
and joy
and soul-satisfaction are probable
if I love Him with all of my…

Snapshot Poems, 2006 - 2008

2008-08-24T22:14:00.000-07:00

The next few posts are selections from a group of old poems I found recently. I wrote them over the past two years - a period of my life that has been tumultuous even on the best days. In re-reading them, I discovered that they provide very accurate glimpses into where I was at given points during this grand transition. When read together, they tell my story honestly and somewhat well.

Some of these poems represent who I am and how I feel today, some do not. However, I think that in order to be the person I want to be, and to give and receive love the way I need to, I have to share the whole process.

Go there with me...?

Love and peace.

Sister of Samson

2008-08-21T10:12:00.000-07:00

I think I know now,
How Samson must have felt

You crept in
Like a warm breeze
Comfort to a love-weary soul
Spoke words like honey and oil
Dripping down the side of my neck
Covering all the places you kissed
Luxurious

And I was so tired of being strong

I think I know how Samson felt

In your arms the weight of the world fell off my shoulders
And I was just a woman
And you, a man
Finally, a man
Loving me, could make me forget
Could make me remember what mortality was like
Tenderness and vulnerability
It may have been foolish but the breathing was so much sweeter
With you there beside me
Knowing it wouldn’t last forever
I cherished each exhale

You took my strength

It may have been foolish
But I was willing
To put it all on the line
purpose power position promise
love life
For those moments
Your sweet
Rest

Samson and I
May have been foolish
But
We just wanted someone’s hands in our hair.

Well, hello... :)

2008-08-21T08:50:00.000-07:00

Hello Good People!

Thanks for visiting. This is my first post, so I thought I'd briefly explain what this blog is all about...

I've never been much of a talker. Unlike some, it seems I wasn't born with the innate knowledge of how to share myself and make real connections with others, excepting a dear few. This has earned me several labels over the years: "shy," "quiet," "thoughtful," "uptight," "boring," "antisocial," "independent," "loner," "strong," etc. It was even suggested at one time that I simply didn't like people. (Harsh...) All of these were probably true at some point, at least a little. But none were as true as this: I am guarded. Fear -- not wisdom, meanness, or tactical self-preservation -- has always been the primary motivator behind my decisions to keep my lips sealed. I actually love people... I guess I just was never sure whether people would love me back, if they knew all that there was to know.

I don't think I want to be guarded anymore. Although I'm thankful for the years that my introverted side has had to stretch and develop, I think Life is trying to balance out my yin nature with a bit more yang. I'm ready.

For me, the decision to blog was a sort of self-prescribed therapy. Part of my personal expansion; an opening up to the world. Here you will find my experiences, opinions, interests and inspirations laid out as raw as possible, in many different forms. Feel free to comment, pose questions, drop love or whatever. I'd love to hear from you.

Here we go...

Love and peace,

Carmen