Sunday, August 31, 2014

Candles

I sang tonight and recorded myself, it was worse than I thought; I’m not going to let it get me down though. Tonight I’m listening to songs by people I admire and listening to what they do and what they sound like. I know I have a voice of my own, that sounds like no one elses; I also know I have a long way to go and I’m not going to get better unless I listen to myself, write everyday and trust my voice. I started with the truth, I know that I have hours in the evening to mess around. My morning pages are peeling away layers and my recordings will have me hear what I truly sound like.


There’s potential in it all, which is the good thing, which is the positive thing, which keeps me going, there’s a little bit of light coming through the darkness that is me trying. But there’s going to be a lot more candles needed to bring in the light.

Tonights motto is there’s still a long way to go there’s still a long way to go and that’s ok, that I see, I can see a passage I can see a path I know it’s long but I can see it, I know there’s a long path but I’m not hiding from it. I'm Crazy to go through it but it's the only way home.

I hold your kisses
In my heart
As I fly across the moon
As I soar across the universe
And go home

I hold your kisses
In my heart
As I float above the earth
A light A spirit
And see that you have loved again

And there are angels
In your midst
He takes your hand
Walks you to
The rising sun
And you fall
You fall in love again

I'll sing it for you when it sounds good you know I'm good for it

Babble

I just finished writing my morning pages. I actually went two years without writing them. There are a million and one excuses as to why. Personally I was doing all right so I never thought anything of it. Until today; today is the end of week four. And I guess I spent four weeks babbling so I didn’t have to face the truth. But last night I said “something is blocking me from writing something is holding me back.” I realized I needed to use the morning pages to “dig deep.” And I realized I’m still scared of writing, which is maybe something I will always be but last night I learned that it is a privilege that I’ve been given to be able to write and read and express myself; That there have been and still are many who don’t have that right.


I have it; I have over 40 books that teach you how to write, I know how to do it, just need to break through the fear that there is something is missing. I need to write one sentence at a time. I need to fight now, fight the part of me that coats all my fears in light so they don’t affect me. That’s what I do, make sure everything is bright on the outside and don’t let myself know the truth, and that is hurting me more than the truth would. It’s time to break open the light because I you break into the darkness there is light AGAIN.

Friday, August 29, 2014

Downtown

Friday night
Downtown
The town with the river
And the fountain
In the middle
Of the two bridges

Cool breeze
Bare feet
The breeze of a September night
And the blankets
In the back yard
With the bonfires

The Cricket
Sings to its lover
A song so sweet and gentle
And the sun goes down
In the back yard
Downtown

The karaoke
From the local bar
Echoes through the streets
Behind the wheels
Of cars
As they drive by

And I find my peace
In the moment of a flame
In the magic of music
In nature
And electricity

Downtown

Wednesday, August 27, 2014

Kiss Me



Sometimes my heart can’t say a word
It’s trying to figure it all out
Sometimes it doesn’t matter
How much I train my voice
There are still many hours
I have to be silent

It was just a kiss
I wanted
It was just a kiss
You took away
With you

There was never a chance

So many broken hearts
When someone walks away

Sometimes my lips can’t say a word
They’re left in a silent prayer

Sometimes it doesn’t matter
How long you hold hands
Along the river that runs to the ocean
There are many hours
When you walk alone

Was it just a dream
You walking along with me
I wasn’t brave enough
To hear “no” again
To speak


kiss me

Tuesday, August 26, 2014

Dust



Take the longer road

to see the butterflies flutter
along the cobblestone and broken fences
the places where life used to dwell
and now me, the lonely stranger,
is the only voice on the land

then listen to the sun
as it is covered by the clouds
a light sizzle before the rain
falls down on the front porch
and washes all the dust from my brow

and I can still dream
but I don’t see faces
the same way
 as when I was young

like a slice of blueberry pie
at gramma’s house
a silver spoon and purple tongue
tasty
but I have never been  full

I love the way
The music is playing in my head
On the way to see him
A light piano
And words that caress

I see you standing
on the front porch
and the tips of your fingers

wipe all the dust from my brow 

Saturday, August 9, 2014

Of Falling Leaves and Owl Feathers

I wake up inside the dream I become conscious and still I am asleep. The world around me becomes a symphony, the prince and his horse ride through the forest, of green moss and moon light, and he picks me up on his horse, never stopping to think about it, he just knows I am the love.

I wake up in the palace, the music hall, each instrument lamenting the marriage of the princess to her love. The sorrows and the past begin to fall around me and only the two of us are standing.

The owl feather falls onto the harp. It makes simple sound and calls out to the gods to give us the power to love together, to wake up the magic together. To wake up souls that were forbidden that weren’t to be touched weren’t to be connected in this life time, too magic too powerful and yet their passions pull them together.

The falling of the two into the abyss of love only wakes up their magic further. There is no time to pause for a moment except to move forward. We do this for each other so that we can move forward and face each other into the pink candle that burns on the ocean floor. The candle that calls us into compassion.

Night will come and day will take us away to another world another planet another moon and stars. Let the bird’s tail flit against the bass. Call to the jazz dancers and flapper girls to raise a class of gin and tonic and laugh into the night.

The cat’s whiskers twist and turn on the guitar. Let the golden leaves fall in the mist and waving and dropping against the violin strings. They morn our singleness and strike out a path that makes us united with the universe and its energies.

I’ll put the charcoal against the slate and draw humans dancing to the sound that nature makes. The slate along the sea shore; the seashore against the piano the strings slice the water a water that will soon be extinct unless we rise back up from the falling love is taking us there.

A symphony of nature and I sing, as I walk along the shore, my percussion the rocks rolling together under the water, under my feet; tigers and lions roar in my soul, in my soul the wild animals run and race my music fills that round goblet in the wave and I walk on through the echoes of the birds.

I have sang all day like I wasn’t scared of the sound of my voice, I loved like I wasn’t afraid of the repercussions. I wasn’t weak in the knees with the sound of my voice scratching and moaning untrained.

There are voices in the distance of fae and gnomes playing between the trees and mine was one of them the wind was chorus of children with voices as crisp as a falling maple leaf. The nape of my neck accepts your fingers the small hairs a-line with touch and hunger.

The sea spiders, like small eyes against the rocks run away from my step, rock to rock, like a note on the music staff and may all your dreams come true and may all your heart aches lead to love so strong the ropes around your heart, the hemp rope, like those on the sailing ship in the harbour, release and let all your doves fly into the sky and all the sea birds fly above your heart pulling your strings moving you like a dancer Rising back up from the falling in love, may it let you rise back up again.

I tip toe over the rocks and cliffs where the birds fly below me. I would die if I fell, that’s where I feel alive today, that’s where I want to go and be at one with space and time and happiness. The symphony for breakfast, for dinner, for supper, with waffles and whip cream but you’re allergic to wheat and whip cream so you have to be excited for everyone else and somewhere your heart is sad for yourself.


Rising and falling on the symphony of love.

Tuesday, August 5, 2014

Sea Glass

not my photo
After two days
Of powerful energy
Comes a day of weakness
Fall on my knees
Admit defeat

Just a day
Though
Just a day
For tomorrow
I will
Be strong again

Over bottle caps
And broken glass
Rubbed against the sea

Through the air
Breathed by lords and ladies
Ticking with time
Love the only counter

After 16 years
Of great fighting
Wars against
My own soul
I admit defeat
And victory
All at once

Fall if only
To rise again
I will rise
Be strong again

Over sandy beaches
Water warn
Calluses against the sea

Over fields
Of chirping crickets
Symphonies
Pushing me along

After decades
The heart rests
A day or two

Let it know
The ticking of its own
Its own voice

Let your heart sing
Let each vibrato
Echo through
Your small apartment
Let your voice
Caress your soul

Over bottle caps
And broken glass
Rubbed against the sea

Over sandy beaches
Water warn
Calluses against them all



Monday, August 4, 2014

Tears

The deserts are dry
And the camels
Walk across the sand
In hopes of water
A tear drop
Whets their tongue
And they step a little farther
Spend years
In the desert
And when asked
How they survived

They said “we lived on tears”