Another night, another disappointment, another no-show
Despite all my best efforts–here I sit alone
“It could be worse,” I tell myself as I stare down at my phone
2 nights ago we lay in bed–after I agreed to stay
You told me it was nice my head lying on your chest that way
We woke the next morning-you dressed and left for work
I roamed your apartment- it was spick and span–but I still found some dirt
She’d scribbled out her name on your refrigerator door
A girl I’d heard you mention at least a couple times before
“I’m out of here!” I told myself–picking up my stride
But I realized I couldn’t be too upset cause you were never really mine
Here I am.
Cradled by the Jewel of the Mountains
A pilgrimage two thousand three hundred miles to bow before HER.
It took months of preparation, organization, and sheer willpower.
The Great Divine Mother Mountain nourishes my heart and soul.
She has carried me through my greatest transformations
After my surgery, she gave me strength; she put my pieces back together
She gave me life and made me whole.
And now I come again in my new adventure
stretched out, surrendering myself before her
She helps me release that which is not mine but is not real.
I witness the false matrix shed away.
She reminds me of who I am. My higher calling, my soul, awakens.
You see, no illusions can live upon her.
Those who could not handle her power left mad or killed themselves
But not me. I run to Her Crystalline energy.
Eager to wash every part of my being as I stand naked before her.
Humbled and Grateful, a Heart full of Devotion
I am ready to serve.
A lone corvid picks perch on a branch of steel.
His feathers a canvas for the rainbow,
Blackened by ash.
To his left, the shell of a mall echoes absolute silence.
To his right, the undisturbed corpse of a parking lot.
The bird sits, silhouetted by the sun,
And casts shadow to the stone desert below.
It stretches for miles, as vast as the sky itself,
Spreading thin the gaze of its onlooker
Still studying from his perch.
With beady eyes and coal-smeared beak, he stares
At the pronged light posts clawing at the sky,
The fingers of grass that web across the lot,
The empty spaces between white lines, and coughs.
The crow’s voice, the dropping of a pin.
The crow will sit until the sun is spent, its rays
Ever dimming in the evening shadow.
Beneath his claws, a spark ignites.
The light hanging from his perch sputters,
Fades into a subtle glow,
And pops.
Shards of glass burst forth from their confines,
Reflecting briefly the scene they observe;
The dead mall looming in the dark,
The fields of cold, callus stone below
And the lone corvid’s ashen feathers
Vanishing into the night.
The supposition of flesh
Leads inward toward the self
Where body holds no familiarity
Shape gathers movement
Scratching at the salt
To reveal a meaning
Written a long time ago
On the air
On the backs of…
Behind tooth and claw
Where I first met my forms
Shifting again and again
Each evolution declares my structure
As winds circulate the winged circles
Of each existential recollection
Once again I find a body
No longer speaking specific dialects
Stretched and pulled
I begin another circle as animal
Born from earth and breath
Death is at once alive
A neoteric vision to discover the way
As I once observed the ancient play
The perception of space and time
Where infinity embraced obscurity and the arcane smile
Matter and mountain and momentum
Knowing while not knowing
Forgetting while not forgetting
Each tongue collecting dust
Waiting for the apropos silence
Each eye alert while the other is shut
Dreaming of being awake
Somewhere aware
Reaching closer to the acts of the amaranthine Mother.
