Soul heart

A magical heart
turns to kryptonite
at the sight
of failures
left unknown.
"But it's not failure,"
says the other part,
of my broken, frozen soul.
The warmer part
turns pink
with laughter
for time does not exist.
"And lessons learned
bring peace of mind,"
says the old soul to her kin.
These two halves
create the whole
together
they understand.
Life is not
a scheduled thing,
but a mystery
solved at whim.
Sometimes this whole
rests very quiet
pondering the pieces.
Memories
give flight
to imagination
and create a space;
home.

To my future...

I wanna lay around on a Sunday, listening to Alan Watts talk on spiritual love and letting go.
I wanna talk to you about everything, and know what you think, how you feel;
I could pick your brain all day.

I wanna make you dinner and homemade bread,
I wanna argue with you, debate in a non-heated way;
I'll consider your side of the argument, cause you're so damn smart (it's hard not to).

I wanna travel to outer space with you, just to see your face,
I wanna watch you, your expressions, as you take it all in;
I want you to tell me all about it, tell me what you see.


Sometimes I don't wanna talk at all;
instead, we'll sit on the couch and snuggle.
Maybe watch a movie, something horror (you know how much I like horror).

Then I wanna be really quiet,
let our hands, mouths and bodies do the talking.
Let's share in new experiences; there's no boundaries we can't break.

If it's time for us to part, should you meet someone new,
then I will trust that our time has been spent.
That we shared in something amazing, once in a lifetime, can't be denied.


Because from this relationship,
I've learned so much;
I've learned to be free, to be my whole self.

You were my teacher, friend, lover;
I'll still be your best friend, lover, mother, sister.
Together, we had the full experience of, each-other.

Woman of your dreams

I'll be the woman
who knocks you down to nothing
then picks up your pieces
just to show you
how amazing you are.

I'll be the woman
who adores you
your sex slave
your best friend
who picks your brain apart
and asks more questions.

I'll be the woman
you can depend on
to be strong when you
are not
to explore this world with,
dive deeper than
you've gone before.

I'm the woman
you can relate to
who knows you
understands the hidden parts
of you.

I'm the woman
who hides herself too
sometimes
when it seems
everything is too much
and fear overtakes.

I'm the woman
who cries at loneliness
only by herself
while waiting for
compassion
true understanding
unconditional love.

I'm yours,
just ask
and you
shall
receive.

About time

Time is an illusion, created by our enemy,
the enemy of the self
Time is our obsession, created in his image,
the keepers of time.
Time is not our friend, created to make us doubt,
the possibilities that truly exist.
Time will bring us down, created for selfish reasons,
there is so much more.

Beat down the illusions of time
The universe is yours to take

Coming together

As you come,
take me in
take my soul
take my roots
breathe me in

Feel my heart
feel my pain
feel the rush
of our fates
breathe me in

As our bodies join
intertwined
in this place
feel this space
take me in

While the world
spins outside
let it burn
feel this space
take me in

There's no need
to hide
let our wounds
collide

Take my breath
leave me still

For Someone Special

"It comes in threes," said she.

But that's a lot for me.

My life is not a tragedy,

But an open book of seas.

I'll set sail at the highest hour,

And be home with a bouquet of flowers.

If you tell me how to climb the towers,

And pierce your heart with golden showers,

Of sentiments of love and fate.

But it'll be a reason to set a date.

Poor dear, if my alarm should be late,

But darling please, don't hesitate,

To catch mine eye and linger no more,

And if I ne'er should reach your shore.

"To thine own self be true," go explore.

And my time will come, nevermore.

Genocidal mania or feelings on Syria/Palestine

"Hark!" declares the angel of death
as he tramples forward,
collecting debris,
of women and children.

Their faces contorted,
by the wretched stench of waste,
the smell of blood and burnt remains.
Will it ever stop hurting?

"No more!" I shout to the world,
while they ignore,
trapped in their own boxes,
afraid to see what's real.

Like organic matter decomposing,
in a cesspool of ancient lies,
my body yearns for truth.
When will the masks come off?

"I'm finished!" I say!
let me leave this world.
Transfixed on another realm
as I walk towards a fading light.

There is no more time,
for it has now expired.
We are running out of breath
drowning in yesterdays sorrows.

"Goodnight," I whisper,
to the crying children,
their mothers holding them tight.
Perhaps we'll meet again.