Remedy

Love and ecstasy
Fumes and memories
Clinging to everything
Including your veracity
What is forever
And do I have the capacity
Your being request all of me
Medically

Salt in the Air

All I see is your eyes
That night in the smoke
Silence until a releasing sigh
No words to say, no words spoke
In and out
The moon's bathing us
You, me, and the flame
But there is so much to discuss
Are you scared I'll say the same
In and out and in
I fumble for your hand
Just to take my turn
Look in your eyes just like I planned
And now my throat starts to burn
In and out and in and out

Of Time and Tenderness

You are constant
and since birth you've been
living and dying. Thousands of times
you have let yourself
wonder
about death and its boundaries. The truth is
that you are borderless.
You are wild,
flower, and you've experienced
the great give and take. Death
forgives
no one. Who is safe
from the great, perpetual evolving
of time and its tenderness?

Even

We have to be diligent
in the nurturing of our feelings.
Remind yourself, consciously,
that forgiveness is inward.
Be wary taking food from understanding
and giving it to anger.
Resentment of others is self-harm.

Baggage.

What is black and what is white?
You say my name, your hands feel tight. How's the taste? And does it feel right?
Cause we fight, and we frighten
me. But I feel close, will you enlighten
me. Do you love when I'm calling
you? Do I sound sort of new to
you? Still above what you always
knew?
Or does my body just cloud the view?
Cause you're pulsing in my temples now,
and there's seven billion samples. Wow. Trembling. Experiencing. Never knowing
if you want this thing. Accepting every bag you bring.
Never knowing if you love my clinging.
Lay it down.
Don't take it back.
Because I'm here and we can make anything that we lack.
I'm sincere. I'm here.
Unpack.

Free Verse

Abandon naivety
The way to love is to own
Owning these experiences
Holding on to your histories
There is no value in whitewash
There is promise in your wickedness
And, there is a lesson in your indecencies
Real connection relies on our rawness

It Was a Mighty Wind This Morning

I have always yearned
for morning and its lessons.
There is an ease and a triumph
that lay waiting for those who wake,
for all who open and bare all for a glimpse
of God and her mighty choices, voices.
Who is this person devoid of reason,
yet living in season? It's perennial
but the world still spins manic.
When was the last time
you left to feel
the morning?