Those schemes: so much distraction — paper-cut smarts and then up in smoke. Life is written all over my hands. The ink: so much blood.
-
Rock, Paper, Scissors
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And God did so heap upon his Gifts unto Adam and Adam did become so burdened with Abundance, he sought shade from the light and did sink his teeth into nothing, of his own creation, and loved himself as creator, like God, and staked out a portion of Eden, calling himself exile, and only gave unto himself of his own hand, and wove a second skin to cover up, with shame, that his first was a gift, and when he thought of creator, he confused himself with God, and how did God love his own creation, calling it good.
And then winter came
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I was taught constellations of great men; I fancied myself some star waiting to be born; I schemed to finagle myself into some unique being so as to see myself in the night sky. I did not see my own sun; I was already unique with nothing to wait for to be.
Godot
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Man’s nature is to misunderstand his nature. Consciousness arises from unconsciousness; it identifies itself as separate from it; unconscious embraces consciousness, loves it as its child, and considers it as part of it. Mother smothers child; child cuts itself off from mother; child turns King and mother queen; husband bows to understanding wife; wife yields to being known. Thus they fold into one another: a continuous creation, child of God.
Œdipus Complex
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Those times, down in the mouth, moping around, the sun, unabashed magnificence, glory-bound, bouquet spread over clouds and water-ways, transfixes and, but how, with all my shambles, it shines on me.
Transit
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Despite the horror — sequestered within — I feel the sun beneath dead skin; I see light beyond scaled lids; and press and press, with primordial wings, to lose this exoskeleton.
In Between
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God, you were the one to fear —
the one cause worth sacrificing for.
What do you mean?
“It’s all in your hands.”
What are you saying?
“You wish for my fulfillment.”
For what use, my sacrifices?
You don’t want me to sacrifice at all.
You’ve ruined all my plans.
You’ve stolen my thunder.
Oh, and it is so embarrassing
when you anoint my crown
and stick the well-prepared
fattened calf under my nose
and lord it up with everyone.
You raining sunlight on the just
and the unjust.
You don’t understand.
You are out of control. -
To possess an artist’s canvas
I make space upon my wall
and put up something crafted
so well and is so bold
it never gets old.
An artist has the whole world
upon which to hang.
Her most prized possession
is new canvas
or a person
or a new tattoo.Canvas
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We grow own sorrow or joy; the greatest joy is we grow our own.
Welcome to the garden
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At wit’s end, wisdom was my only friend. Difficult, heavy, I clung to it as it pulled me through the water, sea waves endlessly crashing into my face. Now I pick up little pieces and hide them under my pillow, undeposited. I dream of the day when I trade it all in for a ticket out of here — out from under the city into the sunlight, walk into the country to find the home I never knew: wisdom light as a smile.
Pax Regina
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