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| May 6, 1998 - From an Angry son A true poem from your bastard son Awaiting a love that never has come The smallness of me has put up blocks not to see The pain that I could not contain as I awaited your mercy The good boy in me has worked hard for you to see That I await your blessing of my divinity But I wait and I wait and I�ll wait �til eternity For this love from a woman who needs it from me (dictated in a counseling session in a 5 minute period) |
| For Things of Mine |
| October 10, 1997 - For my pen There�s a moistness of ink now Spreading out from my masculine pen Grasping my tool, releasing a creativity In letters from soul - to lovers or friends That dry computer with its ridged lines Seems to speak to all that is scientific and straight And if I need to learn it, keeping up with society My love turns to hate and backwardness is my fate There�s a strength and courage to pen-strokes on paper There�s a grace and fluidity that I long to imitate That allows me communion with the artistry I weave As a pen-jockey, soul inspirations I hope to create The sweet scent of ink takes me back to childhood days When pencil lead was king and ink was for ruling classes Who had the gift for word choice without need for erasing While my words came on out, pressed hard, more than the masses My pencil-leadness was too light and I longed to be seen So the taboo ink pen became my backdoor love affair In printing, not cursive, I moved further opposite culture At a time when it needed me to develop above its silent stares So here I go, my illegitimacy now balanced In areas where mere mortals often fear to tread I climb beneath labyrinths to catacombs deep within the body Where brave souls rarely wonder and narrow minds have only read |
| January 27, 1996 - For my tears What a strange path my tear takes Wandering down my new feeling skin Its newness makes me want to wipe it away To return to my customary dryness But I shall let it sit - setting in the corner of my eye Not enough mass to fall, but enough to leave its home Its moistness is like a stranger in a strange land Looking for something familiar, but finding it not Nearly evaporated now, only salt remains on my cheek All that remains is my trembling hands and heart And the warm remembrance of the sorrow I shed And the calmness that replaces my anguish With every subsequent sadness, the tears come easier to me And the path broadens to moisten my cheek again One day there may be a flood - a downpour And I will shout in thanks for the healing I receive The coolness of my tear I now hold so dear What once was just a lark is now my friend in the dark. |
| October 24, 1992 - For food obsessions What is this thing I smell and taste? My body doesn�t use - it becomes waste Going in my mouth, to be savored Artificially colored, artificially flavored I�ll eat in the day or at night Whenever I do, it just feels right I�ll eat at times when I don�t need it When I go without dessert, I feel cheated If I were a bird, I�d be a turkey If my emotions were water, I�d be murky What am I doing when I feed my face Except hardening my arteries and expanding my waist? The solution, it seems, must be within me So I can conquer this evil and truly be free |
| April 11, 1999 - For dark and light I sought to know my darkness To sheath this might sword That roamed my empty moments Shouting out these words �We�re here watching you, beneath the cloak of Night, we hold your life within our hands when you move without the light We are waiting to enter you Whether in your thoughts or dreams We are here to tell you that The light is not what it may seem Beware the dark of ego That holds a mighty light To shield itself from being known And fool you with its plight That it is so high and holy That others must never see The intimate truth of its existence That it lives apart from you and me That it is the supreme creator That you must bow down to And you must never question it To prove your love is true Not all in love and light Are holding to what is truth Offering open, honest conversation And the forgiveness of the youth |
| January 15, 2000 - For the Real Love Like the tributaries of a mighty river Whose depths reach out - beckoning to me Beyond the shallow waters of youthful meanderings To the greater love of others, deep within you and me I find greater trust and a greater faith In moving beyond where my legs had taken me To where my arms might only flail at the bounty Of the vast, oceanic spirit I had only known in a dream Now I am washed over and cleansed Taking away the lesser sense of �I� for the greater sense of �Thee� Like the chocolate bar that melts in your mouth To be the greater taste that quenches the inmost urge For what is the most subtle Leads my soul into the most powerful With the narrow, the tiny, the faint, the imperceptible I gain access to the wide, large, loud and most visible. Unruly, my life, my mind, my words September 20, 1998 - Confessions Longing for expression, longing to be heard So long I have rested in self-preservation Awaiting the return of a long-dead relation When will come my self-discerning? When will intuitional be my learning? Will I always seek the knowledge of others? When will I stand in wisdom among my brothers? My passions erode in self-defeating behaviors With impatience, I give up in my labors Unruly, my life, my mind, my words Stagnating are my efforts and my rewards The crucifixion is near, I turn myself in We both will die - the sinner and the sin Away from the guilt that leads me down further To know the extremes, but for worse, I linger I have through words tried to leave an impression To charm pretty women without vocal expression The entrance I�d make would cover my exit |
| April 29, 2000 - For Self-discipline The easiest thing for me to do is to casually roll on Like the waters cascading before me at Munro Falls Yet I�ve come here to contemplate a dry self-discipline And was rewarded with the sight of a blue heron crane Could this perception of flowing on be shortsighted? Is there more surrender here than I can visibly see? Has a vast network of rock, earth, trees and streams colluded To bring these mighty waters forth into an illusion of freedom? �It takes a lot of money to keep Gandhi living in poverty.� Such was the vague quote from another seeming paradox It takes a lot of organization to allow the waters to roll on & now it is my turn to mature, seeing value in long term goals But what is this temptation to only see the surface of life? Have I only known people�s lives through the fa�ade of TV? Do I cast this �easy� shadow in ignorance of the work ethic? Or is the easy way all that I seek, from fear of past failures? Am I about to walk into deeper waters - into deeper woods of the mind? Along pathways familiar to animals but foreign to this ego-self, I seek to know how to handle the obstacles with personal resourcefulness. With that on my back, I begin the ascent; the inroad to the forest of my life. Addendum I may only see the surface of life cause that�s all the energy I�ll harness May 5, 2000 Hurts from past, from stretching self and snapping, has left me a viewer of life Without the ability or skill to harness my resources, I judge the future with the past Yet with those words, I see the solution, and a new doorway open before me! Addendum Hesitantly I move away from the diamond hard beauties of my world May 6, 2000 Getting closer to Source, which is enormous weight crushing black coal All things in an order I fail to perceive and receive no inspiration from Yet its order is now integral to my life - to my flowering or my wilting. |
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