Namaste _/||\_

Show me your faults
and I shall accept you,
                for they are not faults
rather echoes of myself
beating in you.

We are one.

We both fear. We think
with separate minds
that work in the same plane,

producing thoughts, little flickers
of energy that spill into the world
and cling to further minds.

We are not original.

We are not unique.

We are not superior.

We
are
one.

We are the same.

The pain felt by the elder tree
being separated from her roots,
I feel
                in me.

I feel the cut,
                the parting,
                                 the fall.

My soul is not
my intelligence.

My feelings are not
my perception.

My connection is not
my mind.

Intelligence
is wrongly measured
by miles of divorce.

My heart
                is no bigger than yours
or his. We are all capable.

We are all framed
                                to see

without sight.

Umbilical Cord of Heart and Mind

Through a field of lilies
she strolls.
The forest ahead,
an ocean below;
deeper she goes.

The shade becomes dark;
only fireflies glow.
(only fireflies glow)

What do you know?
Tell me secrets of this life.
What is this yearning
that lingers inside?

Fireflies glow.
The fireflies glow.

They scatter,
she shadows;
deeper she goes
till there is light
where a sunflower grows.
(a sunflower grows)

What do you know?
Tell me secrets of this life.
What am I missing
that haunts me at night?

And the sunflower sings
as the fireflies glow

Let the wind lead the way,
let it render you free.
This is no life
in which you lead.

See the beauty in me
bloom in those willing to be

your somebody.

You’re somebody.

Catching Trains

This distance brings me closer. I can feel
you in my chest, pump my heart, release
                                             my breath.

When you cannot be beside, you are
everywhere to me. I see you
in the stars,                initials carved
                   into invisible trees.

Not being able to feel you so close,
you become closer to me (youme).
                  I needed this distance
to let you inside of me. (myoue)

I'll bear my heart, wear it on my sleeve.
I am committed now
                               that I had to leave.

Maybe the longing is a necessity; you
showing me how much this means;
a                    thousand miles
won't stop you from loving me,

(when those before stopped suddenly).

I'll give you my love
                              unconditionally,
for you are far better than I could dream,
                                          (deserve).

I'll do my best
to make my heart heard. Let
her speak freely, finally, though only
                 to your non-judging ears
that hold my whispers gently.

I could tell you dark secrets from the past,
and you don't sit there
                                  feeling bad. You say
I'm beautiful for all I do, how I see
the world, how I see you

and all those close to me,
      how there is beauty in all to see.
Somehow you manage
                                    to see it in me.

Pursuit of the Quiet Mind

Gazing into the night, you are
within the shooting star;
at the end of the midnight rainbow.

Climbing the highest tree, I see
you in the greenest, dying leaf.
But you disappear from me;

vanishing upon waves of wind.

Adrift a field of sunflowers, I find you.
Successfully capturing the self,
we soar beyond clouds inside ocean tides.

Invisible Names Carved into a Tree (Destiny?)

I was sitting in a tree when a bird came up to me to say hello. Little did I know this birdie had a plan for me, though too soon for my eyes to see. So, I went here every day and so did she till one day when the skies were cloudy. She did not come but instead a man quite young and lovely sat beneath my tree, slowly unraveling her plan for me you see. He pulled out his guitar not seeing me above and sang the most beautiful song about love. As a tear dropped from my cheek he looked up questioning rain but saw me in my happiest pain. His cheeks became red in regards to the things he’d said so I dropped down and whispered, “Let’s get out of these clouds and trees that we’ve been hiding behind for weeks. Take me out. Let’s have a new beginning.”

Warped Splendor

Vines in spines made

of moons and tunes,
sun flower and gun powder,
many pieces of you.

Half-moon leaves
when sun flowers breathe,
wilting to starless nights,
empty thriving trees.

Here on this vine embodied
deep in my spine, moon
leaves of trees and sun
flowers weave through

the endless beauty
flourishing within you.

Haiku Series

Staring at paper
she feels so trapped inside it.
Autumn leaves blow by.

Bright lit screen fades her
in ways she never could see.
Sunlight appears dark.

Grocery lists say
do this and that till gone
while day waits to play.

Branches sing and dance.
She passes by without eyes.
They lost her to work.

Music of Inspiration

A foreign room transformed
from my days as student.

Familiar in ways:
window sills, heavy
doors, white boards,

lost markers atop the piano.

Entering I shake seeing
sixteen wondering faces
staring at a stranger—me.

I do not break.

I have been educated
by the elite in matters
of mending, deciphering,

relating subjects to greenhorns.

The simplicity of adding
music notes, one beat, two
beats, with a ., three beats,

a grave matter to the assembled;
I reminisce moments sitting
in that fold-out chair, absorbing.

Here, her eyes light quickly
like a flame to gorgeous,
flowing hair; burning

as the wick of a candle,
steady, eager for continuous
education. Her adding, impressive,

her grasp, remarkable.
Though those quiet are not
forgotten—engaged with assistance

smiles bud from their
tiny lips; proud of this
momentous accomplishment.

I root a love to unearth

an understanding of connection,
between symbols and sounds;
a difference I’ve made—

a fragile sprout of a tree

growing with time, dedication;
watered by a substitute teacher’s
passion to evolve desires for learning.

Un poema para clases de español11/3/09

Yo miro en tus ojos
y veo al sol.
Tú siempre iluminas mi día.

Un momento sin ti
en mi vida y
los cielos siempre serán grises.

Un beso en la mejilla
manda las estrellas a volar
Yo no puedo verlo en una manera major.

Tú eres el unico que
verdadermente amo
y eso nadie puede cambiar.

English translation:

I look in your eyes
and see the sun.
You always light up my day.

A moment without you
in my life
the skies only shades of grey.

A kiss on the cheek
send the stars flying.
I couldn't picture it  a better way.

You are the one that
I truly love
and that no one can change.

Kitten-Heart

Okay

what I’ll be, am—all you
said when I explained
there was no
making up for habitual

mistakes.

One sentence, you gave
up— neglected
the idea of changing

my set mind.

I cannot identify, absorb
your reasoning— accepted
failure effortlessly;
realized I wasn’t

easy to capture.

Your passion for me—
weak, evaded by your life-
lesness, dormant ways;

vacate.

Where Love Cannot Re-Blossom

There is nothing there.                                   Nothing,
but a sliver of              love                 and caring                               for you
but I guess       not more than
I care about my own well-being         and that is      part                 of our problem.

I love myself more than I could ever              love you
because you are          not       concrete but can move freely            in
and out of my life       as you please,                         and do, 
and I can only watch               it happen again           and again and try my best

to protect myself        when I see you            on the caller ID after months                         of waiting.
You must not want to change someone         to love them, but darling,                   I slightly want
to change you                         because I believe it isn’t your lips      that I am addicted to

but must be the taste              of lies, the residue      of an addict’s preference;      dribbles of
pills             stuck above your lip.       Free your nose,          smell only flowers,                  crush me             
up and breathe me in;            I am                 your drug of choice                 since you
always treat me the same way          you do that bottle. Use me up            till I am

long gone but linger               in your system, and you                      will crave for me
to get you        that high once again, but        never               will this happen,          for I am empty.             Withdrawals                will haunt you                                     each night as memories
occupy your dreams, nightmares                  they will become                    unless you rehab yourself                   from these pills, these lies             you feed me while I                continue
to rehab          you                  from me.

Seal up My Love

When placed                                                             O

so delicately                             N

                                                                               

T

    O

P

it suffocates,

ceases

her from dancing

with molecules.

She stands

tall, still—until

she shrinks and shrivels

leaving but only

a black

wick.

There is a J in Heartache

Oh, how I could have loved you, pleased
you better than any other woman
you will ever meet. You may think 

you have the slightest idea of what you

gave up but you have not even begun
to figure it out. Once you find yourself

only sleeping among dirty women
whose skin reek of drugs and privates
ache with disease you will remember me

and how we cuddled up on your couch,
you kissed my clean forehead and smelt
my washed hair; How our lips fit perfectly

together and I didn’t taste like the butt
end of a cigarette. Yet, I foretold this to be
the outcome from succumbing to a J.

Just as J’s rolled, breathed in, harm,
you, when considered, break hearts. 

Captivating Criminal

Once again, you’ve changed me,
showed me the spark that can ignite
a fire deep inside by a simple
coming together of lips between two lovers
who can only refuse one another.

We are not right,

yet we cannot be wrong
with a longing like this, lasting
years of silence and months of
separation at a time because

neither you nor I have been ready
to love one another, though we
have always burned to. Your lips

stay locked on mine in my memory
and I hold on to that feeling of bliss;
the taste of your green cigarette;
the feeling of possibility that maybe

this year, this day, we will finally connect.

But I fear you soon will run away
as you always do; forget to call
for our very first date.

Your best at abandoning but I can imagine
the lover you could be to me and how
I could attempt in calming that innate anger
that seems to always be boiling inside
those beautiful eyes and mumbling
from those perfect lips that are

destined to someday be mine.

You are sweet; will wait on me hand and foot
in the moment but forget me when the sun
decides to rise. Our situation is difficult,

like Romeo and Juliet, and this may be
the only reason why we long so deeply,
because we are not meant-to-be.

But I love you and you in some way
love me, though you still are not ready
to act on this but instead daydream
of what we could be. You string me along

while you attempt to figure yourself out.

And I will wait, whether it may be
by choice or by default from my lack
of ability to long like this for

anybody else.

Mother's Day

reminds 

many of their wonderful mothers who

were there 

no matter what the situation was; only one

 who 

put your life ahead of their own,

you were 

the center of their world, the universe.

You know 

she will always have your back, never suspect she may turn.

Though this is not 

what some think of on this day. Some like myself

wonder 

what happened, where things went wrong.

Looking

at her–I don’t see a mom.

Some people

 like me, sit with their siblings and talk of how

embarrassed 

we are, how we wish we could help.

She’s so far 

off the path, hopes of hope are far gone, we continue on.

I’m thankful 

for what you have taught me in all your wrong doings of me.

 I’m deeply thankful 

for the scars you left and my dying insecurities.

Deep, Deep down,

I wish I could love you like others love their mother, but

resentment and hatred lie 

where your love is, though I did not plant those seeds,

 it was your hand that reached in. 

Dear J's of My Life

                Where do I begin to explain how all you J’s chAnged me. My first, stEpping up to the pLate to teach me how to never again need someone so badLy chEst pains sting at the thought of being without; volunteering to be the first to truly crush my heart and naïve hope that in men there is a sliver of decency. I was a slow learner and it took five years and two more J’s before I could leave you. 

J nUmber two, you Showed me That forbIdden love is fuN, but only disastrous when you get down to it; schooling me on how to see the clues of a better cheat. Our fling so quickly burnt out the smoke still rises years later as a reminder.

The ultimate J, J number three, the One; you Helped me see the evil that surrouNded me, the bitterness and self-loathing I had, though you created more in the end.  I came to you with a wounded heart and mind and you, at first, made me heal, but soon infected me with a disease I still cannot rid. The One, you taught me that when the rain is pouring things are not at its worse, but hail and wind can fall and break things already broken.

                My J’s, through all of your brave and selfless volunteering to teach me the cruelness of relationships, I have come out not only scared to once again show myself to a possibly judging eye, but am incapable to give what I gave to you; love. My heart continues to beat, ooze from the wounds you all have left me. With this, I don’t know whether to thank or hate you for tainting me so beautifully. My eyes may be open, my heart may be closed, but my mind is left to decide what lessons to believe and hold dear, like I once held each of you.

"Jo, Short for Josephine"

The lights stay dimmed while
a simple stage is lit. In a four
seat row I find myself

alone;

a vacancy sign propped above
my bushy head, till a lady
walks beside offering warm

conversation

and years of scenes played
over and over again—
with a family repeating

my name;

Just as Romeo and Juliet’s
family name gets passed,
repeated, over again in plays.

We

speak of teaching as I
am aspiring and she once
was, giving me tips and praise

                for what I haven’t yet done.

When the lights turn up
we walk each other
down stairwells and hope

one day

we’ll run into each other at
another play, and I can tell her
how she inspired me on my way. 

Secrets of a Tainted Heart

My words so sour as milk months old, forgotten, and spill so slowly from my oozing mouth of a wound through fingers typing away not knowing what they say. I spill, like fallen glasses breaking and shattering upon the dirty wooden floor they didn’t see coming while enjoying the bliss of freedom before they reached their final place. On paper this ink sticks and stays and I can’t delete the feelings that reside within me, though gruesome and sick as they may be, sunlight, eyesight, they must see, be read by those willing to believe that I am only human and I cannot help but feel and say these things that upset me. My mouth moves so quickly like the vibrations through the air as I speak this to you, stumbling over my own words. They cannot explain, never will show what it is that I’m really trying to say. In my stumbling maybe you will feel what I feel and understand that I do not mean to hurt or lie, I do not mean to let myself cry but I don’t know how to express what is inside this lying and filthy mind that plays tricks and trades and wants things to stay the same and change all in one breath. I go right than left and find myself in the same spot as when I first thought I left, realizing I haven’t learned how to move but think that I’m so smart, know it all, I’ll give you advice on things that I continue to fail at. I fail, over and over again and I can tell you the things I learned and help teach you but I can’t take these lessons and apply them and know what the new outcome may be because I have not graduated from stupidity, foolishness, thinking that people are decent and I can trust them. Where do I find the answers for how to be mindful and have compassion for those who continuously step on my fingers and toes and smile while they break and I’ll let this happen and smile in return and help them until finally one day I snap and ramble in this messy form of a poem or reading and I let it all out, show my bruises and scars and how angry I can be from the things they have done to me. I have self-pity, I do not understand because I move forward in my mind while my heart stays behind holding grudges and reminding me that I should never again let her go into the dark alone and experience the unkindness of my own kind. But I do believe that out there somewhere is a group of people who care so deeply as I and understand this message I’m trying to say, understand this confusion that continuously haunts at bay.

The "Big" Show

Of all the acts I’ve played,
maybe but three were worth
a memory; worth counting.

You my dear, are forgotten;
lost to my denial that we
may have acted as one.

A glorious pit fills my empty
stomach when a scene of you
on top of me begins

to unfold so disastrously,
much like the actual events;

You lasted but only a minute.

Proven Fool, Round 22

How angering, frustrating,
foolish, better yet,

disappointing

to have believed You
were a better man than

You really are

just like those other
boys—believing Your

a big, burly man

because You can grow
a beard and pubic hair.

20 something years, You
still haven’t learned

a woman’s worth

is something You should
not take for granted, though

                time and time again

You do.  Your mind and heart
may never grow, but Your

penis surely will

become infected with
uneducated diseases
while You wonder

Why did I let that one go…