Poems and Phantasms

How Becoming

Do not shed your skin only

to wear it as a jacket in polite company

 

It wears thin, pliability

grows brittle, pretense

 

Beware most hypocrisy

oily and clinging

 

Lest your mask

become you

Beauty

I got beauty in me

that needs to come out, songs

you never heard, stories

in my bones and fire

in my eyes, too bright

to keep secret

 

yes, the sadness went deep

down to the source, pain

and joy, all soaking up

into spirit and

there it goes

pouring out like water

shining out like light

and singing

 

look at me

look at this new day

this life

this world

gifts, all

Simple, Wild Wisdom

 

I believe in a

simple, wild wisdom.

 

Go to a place

where there are

no clocks or

mirrors. There is one

inside you.

 

Listen to the

rustling of your heart

beating wings of

generations. Launch into

this “now” you’ve heard tell of.

It is not chronological.

It is all-consuming

experience.

 

Now is

breath and

warmth

in your veins

for this day

you are

alive.

 

Your path is not

future. It is this

step. It is

following the

urging of what

you have always

known. Shhh,

listen.

 

The quiet inside

is singing.   

Scatter Kind Words

Scatter kind words like seeds

to the four corners of the earth

to the wind and sky

to hell and back, where

they are needed most

they will find their way

 

As the tiniest light

shines the greatest good

in the blackest night, so too

the kind word roots

deepest in the heart

rich with grief

abundant with gratitude

Life Stories Write

 

this

is life too

 

this time in

this room

clock ticking

rush and wait

turning pages

you never intended

to read

 

as it turns out

this is your story

 

so tell it

 

tell the dark jokes

sing the sad songs  

you can’t forget, laugh

till you feel

like crying

till you

feel

 

sometimes healing is

not a cure but

the coping

the reconciling

the holding on

to hope regardless

 

give this day a title

worth remembering

even if

you didn’t choose it

this

is your adventure

 

At Play

Did they tell you

you must fight

to survive, take

to succeed, scheme

to win, your life

a pawn in a zero sum

world, and is that all

 

you know? You could

play a different game.

 

Do not fear

for your life

to mean nothing

for every word

you speak echoes

 

to others. We cannot help

but leave traces. We are

immortal in human

memories. What is

eternity anyway?

 

Or is it pleasure, creature

comfort you seek yet

what balm greater

than peace?

 

This is a strange kind

of abundance, giving

more emptying grows

you, a vessel

hollowed out by light

overflowing.

 

Standing at the Border

A reflection on “The New Colossus”  by Emma Lazarus

 

I thought I was

a lighthouse. I

raised my hand for the job.

 

I thought myself a

beacon of refuge at the

door of dreams. Shining

with invitation

I turned away

no one. It was not mine to

give, this air of

freedom; it was only mine

to welcome.

 

Weathered, jaded

no longer alight

with idealism, would

that I could

set down my lamp

and my words

and with

both hands free,

gather my own.

 

 

 

 

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