star dust memory chip

How we all just want to be seen
to let our bit of star dust chip shine
and have others, ones we love, shine it back on us.

How we all just want
to make a beautiful thing

How I can feel the air bubble pressure change
as I pass by you
how I rub off on you
smiles soak into cheeks
the smell of my smoke
soaks into your cloths

To build a fire from coals
press two together
and blow
feed them air
and tinder
until the flame emerges,
bursts forth
and it becomes one
fire

How I long to press myself into you
again

How once implanted in my heart
the computer chip in my body
scans the distance of eyes
searches for you

in the pattern of every face.

fly away ghosts

Fly away ghosts
and dreams
there is nothing to see here
but a person
physical body
flaws and scars
walking to the car,
washing dishes.
You do not comfort me
your arms are empty air
there is no smell in your hair
or heat in your smile.
Leave me be now
and fly off to wherever your world is
fly off and take your rainbow words and searing thoughts
your fields of knives
and soft pillow things
fly away
and leave me be.
so I don't burn the butter
so I can see the child in front of me asking for love
so I can see this moment again
and all the sweet things in it.

until we go

All things
collected together
make a storm
and a calm
every thought and mountain
all the things that we are
the sweetness of lips
the tears we shed
the dragons of pain
spit flying from angry mouths
the trampled spring grass
dogs playing free in the park
the snow that fell and melted
was
all things that I hold in my chest
that smile,
like the yellow flower in the brown leaves.
every truth
stuns me
that they live together
in the smallest space
the biggest world

from this day I release fear.
I will live looking at death
and her wonder
knowing she loves me
as much as my mothers blood
and until I let her wrap me in her arms I will flirt with her with joy
I will mould myself, a brave warrior
in the jungle of sunlight
and mystery
I will give it all away again and again
and I will kiss the ones I love
again and again
until we go.

maybe you are angry

Maybe when you were a baby your mother was told not to pick you up when you cried,
not to sleep with you and your perfect body.
Maybe she did not offer you milk from her warm body.
Maybe you were taught to pee and shit in your pants and then a few years later yelled at when you did.
Maybe your mother was gone, or your father, maybe they had no support and were alone and angry, Maybe you were abused, yelled at by the ones you loved. Told you were not enough, not ok as you were. Maybe you were raped.  Maybe you went to school and were teased because of the shape of your eyes, because you were fat or had a lisp, you dressed funny.  Maybe you were told not to like what you liked: the color pink or the same sex or dancing or...  Maybe you cried because you did not want to go but were made to.  Maybe you live two miles form a huge lake and have never seen it.  Maybe you have never been told you are good, magical and lovable.  Maybe you have never put your hands into you mother earth or eaten fresh food from a tree.
And then the media told you you were not right, your hair is to frizzy, you don't have enough friends, your family weird, your breath and body smelly.  That you shouldn't talk about sex, or touch yourself at night. That you gender is weak or violent, your skin color a sign of being inferior.
Maybe you were told there was a road to happiness through how you looked or what you owned or though how much power and money you have.  Maybe you were beaten on the street after you left the corner store, or watched others die from violence or neglect.
Maybe now you work a job that shakes your body and vibrates in your ears until you ache.  Maybe you are yelled at by your boss or looked down at and feel you can't leave.  Maybe over and over again you cut open carcasses of cows and stand in stinking blood, you wrists, your body in pain. Maybe you are invisible and feel like no one needs you.
Maybe you long to be loved but only feel warmth and safety from a bottle or from pills. Maybe you hate the person you have become and how you treat the mother or father of your children. maybe you beat the ones you love.  Or ignore them because it is just too hard.  Maybe your body just hurts
and you are alone
and maybe now
Now you are angry.

writing about music

No matter

the fear

or pain

how big the hole of loss or the confusion

how crumpled and useless it seems

hopeless our prospects

as long as i fling my body

my voice, out into space

as long as i am intwined with music

touching every molecule I can find

with the shape of me

hugging nothingness

as long as i join with others

as long as i give it all away

to the melody

the rhythm

everything

is ok.

thankful for rice

As thankful as I am
for rice
and the sliding of children's feet in socks on wood floors
for feeling the sun in warm lips.
That the lies you told me,
that we told ourselves
can be forgiven.
As thankful as I am
that today
the body on the stretcher
was not my loves
that you are all right
that blood is flowing to each cell of you skin
and that a cut with a knife
would cause you pain
As sad as I am that your mind
sent you to hell
for a life time
until your children cringe to hear your voice.
For the hair
of a dead woman
still sitting in your drawer.
As bitter sweet as it is now
to see your eyes
close to tears
as you realize there is nothing
but your body
this life
and the pain
and the longing to be seen and held
like the child
you were so many years ago.