Friday, September 19, 2014

The ghost of heartache past

My wise and silly best friend
my passionate, gentle, lover
ran away
three lifetimes ago
In his pocket
a CD that sang my soul
and a piece of my raw heart

The piece that wanted to wear
a band around my finger that
said to all that I had found my HIM.
The piece that wanted so much to see
what miraculous lives we could grow
with his seed planted in my garden
wether she would have his beautiful light eyes
or my dark chocolate ones.
That wanted to see how sweet and gentle
he would be with them...
WE would be with them.
how firm and loving and wise
in guiding them through life.
The piece that wanted to
sit beside him on a swinging bench
on a creaky wooden porch
holding his well worn hands in my soft ones
telling bad jokes
and pressing our wrinkly lips together
like it was the first time
laughing and loving til the end

where that piece was
was a hole torn through
but still beating... still beating
so raw...
so painful
I couldn't breathe
gasping for breath
at your name
chasing sleep for months
sitting in solitude
waiting at first...
perhaps in time he would see
the beauty of what i had been offering...
the preciousness of the piece
the gift he carried in his pocket
and then he didn't come.
the phone didn't ring...
my mailbox stayed empty..
and a little at a time
though at first I don't remember how
I don't remember when
the time passed...

Weeks turned into months
years into whole other lifetimes
I have felt other men
enter into my heart and had them in my body
felt another man put his fist across my face
and his hands around my throat
I've been to the cliffs of death
stood on the edge and looked over
inched back just before i lost my balance
I have carried the seed of another
grew life within me
nurtured it outside of me
I have created out of my body
a small best friend
a miracle.
I have traveled along all the edges of this giant island
I have climbed mountains
crossed oceans
I have written songs to other hearts
though yours was one of the first
and might have been the last
if life was like the stories
I now read my son to sleep with...

Those lifetimes
slowly cauterized the edges
of the hole in my heart
the bleeding subsided...
the pain diminished
and over time, I grew accustomed to
the tension left in my chest
by all those gasping moments
in the aftermath of your beautiful hurricane
and to forget the pain
I forgot how high I held your name
I forgot how great of a piece I had gifted you
I forgot all of those intimate details
of how silly and corny you were
how easy I could tell you anything and everything...
of holding you in my arms
how deep I let you in and
what you felt like inside of me
how your lips tasted.
I even forgot I had a hole scarred
into my heart.

Then there was your voice...
and it all came rushing back like a great flood
all the love
all the desire
all the dreams I had dreamt of you.
all the sorrow....
all the pain...
all the struggles of lifetimes
of teaching myself my own immense worth
though you had not seen it,
and no other man had either.
I can't let you back in my home....
there are doors in my walls...
but how can I trust you with those keys?
I know what kind of devastation you can leave behind.
and I don't know what you might do...
I chose carefully the ground for my home
the foundation has been built as stable as I could
my home has been damaged
but rebuilt as solid as my two small hands could build
it houses all I love... and my most precious... my son.
I know this scar has your name on it.
But I don't know if the piece I gave you would even still fit.
And I don't know if you even kept it,
or if you misplaced it... threw it away...
perhaps you sold it to a collector of rare oddities...
or perhaps it was in your underwear drawer
getting moth eaten next to dirty magazines?
And I don't want it back now.
It was a gift.

I wish I knew what to do with
this ghost of heartaches past
the haunting voice of your love
entered in through my ear and now
Its shaking me.
stealing my breath
stirring my passion
feeling that hole in my heart reopening
old blood flowing
If i let it flow
will it bleed me dry?
will it open the wounds so they can finally truly be healed
would there be any healing in offering up my heart and body
and then watching you walk away again so soon?
would you just take another piece with you when you go?

Monday, September 8, 2014

Soft Animal (I love to love)

A wise sweet friend once told me...
all you have to do to find happiness
is to let the soft animal that is your body
Love what it LOVES...
and I ask myself today,
what does this soft body of mine love?

I love to love.
I love to sing...
to feel my heart pass up through my throat
out over my tounge and fill the space around me...
I love writing,
allowing the thoughts that come unbidden to me
to travel down through the point of my pencil
sharing my own unique view from the windows of these eyes...
I love growing
growing life within me
growing my soul
I love exploring this earth
climbing mountains real or imagined.
growing my experiences in this world
that help me to see even just a glimpse
of life in another soul's shoes.

I love growing seeds,
pushing them gently into the soil,
not too shallow
not too deep
nourishing them with just enough water and food
I love the heat of the sun
on my face
on my gently baking brown shoulders
I even love watching the dark clouds coming across the sky
knowing that mother nature
is about to relieve me of my afternoon garden chores.
I love watching the tiny sprouts
peeking through the dirt.
shy green fingers
feeling their way up through
the darkness of their earthen womb
and then stretching for the sky
wiggling so slowly,
reaching toward the light
I love stretching just like those sprouts
love dancing
moving my body
feeling all the curves of my flesh
and surfaces of skin
the pulse of my heart
pushing life through
and to every edge and corner
of those curves and surfaces...

I love to love
I love breathing.
Being alive...
I haven't always liked breathing...
I held my breath for years...
slowly suffocating,
drowning in my anxieties.
Today though,
I LOVE this breath...
life force
vital energy,
prana that flows into and through me
I love being a channel
a conduit
a bridge between earth and sky...
as we all are.

I LOVE to love.
I love laughing until I cry
and crying until I laugh
embracing and blurring the lines of my humanity
instead of shoving it into a box of goodness or badness.
I love living in the now.
Today is all I know for sure.
Sometimes the uncertainty
the sheer possibilities of future terrifies me.
sometimes I forget for a moment to just BE.
to just BE here NOW.
But not today...
I love here.
I love me.
I truly do...
not in ego.
not in believing that I am better than others
I simply love and recognize the value
of my own unique experience
The light within me.

I love to LOVE
I love me
and I love YOU.
I love all of the beautiful yous
that run by, walk by,
skip and silly walk by.
crossing my path
or walking by my side.
Those of you that I can see in your eyes,
the very same light...
a part of the same soul I see in the mirror
The yous that are living
breathing, GROWING...
exploring every inch of this human experience
living life in love and laughter.
Living each day with a sense of urgency
and yet with an equal dose of serenity
refusing to waste a moment
in the dull dreariness of insecurities
and a life spent half asleep.
today is the only day you have,
is the only day we have.

I will let the softness of my body,
the gentleness of my heart,
the eyes of my soul,
love what it loves
love who I love.

Saturday, September 6, 2014


I felt I needed to cry inside
fly away and hide
and so...
I wrote
my soul.
Where is the line
embracing the individual path
our extraordinary nature
and walking in ego
standing tall to make amends
to heal each fall
not to make others small.
Does one know?
Do you know?
We are each wonderful
as the wide night sky of winking stars
Strength beyond belief in our scars
some hidden and some worn on our sleeves
all of these details
falling away oh so slowly
drifting breeze
caressing leaves
the shape of our eyes
the shade of our skin
the sounds of our words
the masks and the wardrobe of hats
our years on earth
the places and stories blurred
the burdens and babies birthed
and all the suitcases we pack full
jammed to the bursting point
with things we will never need.
Humbled and awed
by the wild variations of human beauty
Wild Beauties.
MESSY, imperfectly perfect beauties
colorful masterpieces,
paintings in progress
some trapped inside dying
to come out and play
some playing so hard
talking so loud
that softness has to be relearned.
Releasing and relapsing
Ripples in the pond...
waves in the sea
in this bubble of peace.
Bouncing off ourselves and each other
like inflateable balls hiting walls...
touching ceilings and floors of heart and mind.
Uncomfortable as it may be
to face our faces
sometimes so clumsy
we feel the fool
making, taking, faking confidence.
struggling against the defenses
we've each spent our lives crafting
walls thickly built, but crumbling fast.
dancing along with present and past...
sometimes with so much grace,
we may very well put the fields of swaying flowers,
the floating butterflies...
to shame.
Insecurities gripping, ripping at our hearts.
Holding and hugging.
Gently.... GENTLY tugging.
playing away the days...
and loving the stuckness away.

Inspired by and given with love to the wild beauties of The Laughing Body, Gesundheit Institute, 2014

mille grazie alla mia bella famiglia 私の美しい家族に千のおかげ a thousand thanks my beautiful family