* Found this poem I wrote in High School while I was looking for old material for a poetry contest. Thought I’d share it. Since it’s one of the only comical poems I’ve ever written…
We had spoken before, just a short “Hello, Goodbye.”
He was kind of jumpy, but an interesting guy.
It wasn’t really stalking; I was just curious where he’d go.
It couldn’t actually be a crime, just to want to know.
Oh, those pictures I’d taken? They were only for fun.
I had to take so many, well, it was hard to get a nice one
with him always on the run.
No, I didn’t break into his house.
He mistook me for the maid,
whom I assure you, I wasn’t trying to impersonate.
I haven’t a clue how she could have gotten in my trunk.
Or, for that matter, how the car could have so strangely fallen off that cliff and sunk.
The night in question? I was at a mad party with a hatter and a hare.
I don’t know what got into me. I’m sure I just had too much tea.
I must not have realized how many messages I had left on his machine.
But I assure you I wasn’t trying to harass him.
I just had a question I needed to ask him.
And the park where I feed the birds is just so close to Mr. Rabbit’s home.
I certainly didn’t mean to loiter.
And, so you see, I really find no need for this restraining order.
There’s this story.
Underneath every thought I have,
to be real.
Keeps trying to hold me.
And kiss me.
And give me pleasure.
I said it.
It’s like this story’s got
a mind of its own
but the same soul as me.
It’s like a lie tho right now
at this point…
Because the story doesn’t match
what’s really going on.
Or does it?!
Maybe it’s not on the surface yet
It could be tracking me tho.
Maybe it’s creeping on me
So that when it comes knocking
at my door
I know it’s face.
And I answer with some recognition.
I open that door wide and say
Come in, I knew you’d be here.
1. I know what it’s like to have different colored days
2. I know the wash of the moon as it travels on its monthly journey
3. I know the smell of fear
4. And the whisper of faith
5. I know what it’s like to love like the Moon loves the sea, it can be a secret, subtle, lonely bliss
6. I know the break of the boards beneath my feet.
7. I know the flip of frustration
8. And the chains of stagnation
9. And the halo of bright righteous peace
10. I know what reunion feels like
11. I know what a map can cover up
12. I know the words that might turn me inside out
13. I know clinging
14. I know detachment
15. I know this moment in time is a fraction of the infinite
16. I know the more I know the less I know
17. I know I’m ready for anything, because I have to be
18. I know there’s rules in this game
19. I know it’s a game
20. I know Curiosity and I know Hunger (and they are siblings)
21. I know Passion and it’s illusive sparkle and brilliant code of suffering
22. I know the power of words
23. I know the love of a seed
24. I know the season of Grief, it is Transformation’s prerequisite
25. I know really good love is drenched in laughter
26. And mistakes and trying
27. I know singing will stop anxiety in its tracks
28. I know the seed of courage is vulnerability
29. I know 120 seasons
30. I know 30 trips around the sun
I’m not going to focus on the relapse. Also, I’ll mention I’m dealing with it better than I ever have, at least on the outside. And on the inside I’m so much closer to the response that I will myself to have over the whole condition. I’m not going to focus on it for example. I’m not going to make my entire life about it because it’s not even my relapse. But I will name it here. Because it is a reality around me and an effect and a dull aching thought within me. And I’d like to leave it here for now. I’m purging my mind of unneeded clutter. These words can sit in my yard for sale and be useful somewhere else. It’s summertime and I’m filled with urges to clear out and learn and stand by rivers that woosh me away in heart and mind.
Sometimes I wake up already tired from my own thoughts yammering. This morning I just watched them tick around and round. They need a place to land their tiresome business so I’m purging here to make room for what the days going to bring to my questioning mind and grateful heart. Here I can see the ticking of thoughts in real time round and round they go. Trying to find loopholes in my apparent truth that my wishes could live around.
I wish I could love better, bolder, fiercer. I wish the little sticks that people throw at me didn’t bother me so much. Their words pushing and tugging on me. I wish that it didn’t give me the feeling to harden off and pout while creeping back. I feel like a river must feel. A river that is so full of passion and lust for life, who panics when it discovers men trying to dam it up. And so it might push back at first and try to roll the other direction with stubborn rational. But we all know rivers can only travel in one direction, towards one destination. What is the river to do then? Once it’s been dammed and discouraged? Should it allow its passions to wean? It’s lust to lessen? It’s journey to die? No! It should tire that dam out (eventually) and wash it away with fierce love and determination! It should remain fed and full within the spirit of itself. Which can never be dammed up. Which makes its journey through dreams to the Unity it craves. And it should live in its trying. And in its questions and suffering and let its passion push an energy into the world that could only come from such suffering in the first place! It should know the block is part of the journey itself. It just authenticates its desire and drive. The journey is the dam, is the panic, is the confusion and the confidence it forges. The journey is the joining of other brothers and sisters of life who also dedicate their “trying” to the same journey. The journey of Life-giving Love towards the freedom of a great Ocean. And that’s what I will focus on.
I am the sum of many parts
I am all the aspects of life,
random or otherwise
that filled the space and time
that was before this.
I am an effect of a Greater cause.
I am a factor in Universal law.
And a genuine expression of History’s performance thus far.
Its highest highs and lowest lows,
its timeless beauty its endless woes,
Its long tales and its short tales,
its inhales and its exhales,
its every person and every place,
its many failures, its saving grace,
its primal instinct to evolve,
to play, to solve.
I am a microcosm.
bound to the pattern of life
No getting out of it.
I am a new thing,
And so are you.
never like this before
a door to a brand new world
Part mess, none the less
here to create what IS possible
As the sum of many parts
Just Like Levi said…
My future has an ancient heart…
It’s nice to be here
And expecting everything
to come of it.
Watching the ravens & magpies
Experiment with each other
Their black and blue feathers
Rebelling against the white-out world
Covered in snow & sympathy
Messengers of Failure’s mascaraed
As they attempt
One swoop delivers them to victory.
And just as they did, their failure,
they accept their fortune
No need to define it as tangible
promises to repeat their damning ways, trusting faithfully in their own
Until they have completed their work in the world.
I want to know your deepest darkest truth…
your happy truth
your frightened truth
your broken truth
your crazy truth
your rebel truth
your fantasy truth
your thankful truth
your human truth