In these strange days I can’t help but wonder stranger things I’ve heard it said that life here on this earth is a graduate class for the soul You see, we are not bodies with a soul We are, instead, souls with bodies We have chosen to walk and talk and hurt and love We have made an agreement with Oneness To take a fraction of what we are And condense down into this biological machine called a body We have chosen to leave Oneness to become one Single Alone amongst others who are also alone I can’t help but wonder what we are meant to learn What don’t we already know through our original experience of Oneness Maybe it’s the simple act of experiencing the finite A contrast to already being so familiar with the infinite What an existence we must lead in Oneness To allow us to be so curious that we willingly come to THIS place Full of fear and uncertainty Cruelty and chaos But also kindness and compassion And love Love with all its grit and glamour Its risk and reward How brave are we to give up the infinite NOW of Oneness For the finite uncertainty of Earth time Where those around us that we learn to love and cherish are Too, bound by the limits of a linear existence Where love and loss are the rhythms of life’s tides upon this world Such contrast and contradiction I suppose there’s beauty in it Oh, to be able to know now what I will know after To be able to answer with certainty what it was all for The good and the bad To know how good of a human I was Where I helped Where I hurt Where I healed Will I miss this experience when it’s over Will I choose to return again Will you I think about all of the various mythologies of life and death I think about how more than one thing can be true at once How time and experience is such a strange soup So as the world becomes more and more outlandish As long held collective truths seem on the verge of collapse The undeniable feeling that something new is being birthed Through this terror on the back of a desperate hope I can’t help but ponder stranger things And my place within it all
Nevermind You see You were never mine Not the way I needed you to be You were an illusion A twenty-four and seven hologram Insubstantial and incapable Pinocchio with a nose job A foundation full of rot On which we placed our house And when the floor fell out You did not reach for me Did not treat my scrapes Nor bandage my wounds You told me to walk it off Toughen up It wasn't that big a deal Not everything was about me YOU were the one who was injured here Look at what I did to YOUR floor Look at what I did to YOUR life And I believed I was the weak spot The salt in the wound of us
Nevermind You see You were never mine You simply made me believe In an us without a we Told me that was how it was supposed to be My every need an inconvenience My efforts doomed to fall short A fat lazy black bitch Who just wouldn't listen Who just wouldn't drown my sense of self in your ego And join you in your fortress of delusions
Nevermind You see You were never mine And now I belong to me After taking too long to see I needed to be worth more to me Than I was ever worth to you
I bought myself roses today Colored for this transitional season The meridian between winter and spring Watched the red robins play in quiet branches Coated in the soft white of early spring snow Sat at my window sipping steaming coffee Tapping into a calm that was new to me Reveling in the luxury of peaceful stillness And let myself smile
It's Saturday in the mid 1980s Fashion Island Mall is hopping I am at the ice rink My happy place Skating circles while the beeps and boops of video games, The clatter of quarters dropping into the tray of change machines Spills out of The Gold Mine arcade across the way Movie goers in neon and Aqua Net buying tickets for Risky Business Ferris Bueller's Day Off Ladyhawke Teen Wolf or Mannequin At the DJ booth a 17 year old white boy Wearing a black sequined windbreaker and a single white sequined glove Introduces himself as Hollywood Hans Where he spins vinyl into a vibrant soundtrack featuring The Bangles Culture Club Michael Jackson Madonna Eurythmics and Wham I am in the midst of it Skating laps and laps Avoiding the teen hockey skaters with their scary sharp blades and recklessness The kids and teens begging Hans to play their favorite songs: "Play Thriller, Hans!" "I want Eye of the Tiger!" "Wake Me Up Before You Go Go!!" "You got Everybody Wants To Rule The World?" "It would be rad if you play Like A Virgin!" "Dude! Play Broken Wings!" "Like, totally play Love Is A Battlefield" "Walk Like An Egyptian would be bitchin'!" You might find me throwing quarters down the gullet of Dig Doug Pole Position or Donkey Kong While the Zamboni resurfaces the ice once an hour Or, begging my mom for one of Sbarro's signature giant slices of New York style pizza A food court staple Bonus prizes if she throws in an Orange Julius Aspiring figure skaters owning center ice Spinning and jumping dramatically Kristi Yamaguchi among them I'd later learn I am here to glide in endless circles to the music Flying fast and free Occasionally spinning or trying to Shoot the Duck With mixed results Singing along to all of the songs Always sad when Hans calls the last skate of the session Reluctantly drying my blades Pulling on my skate guards Following my mom out of the mall to the car Exhausted and happy Already dreaming of the scratch of blades on smooth resurfaced ice The rhythms of the 80s Taking my broken wings and helping me to fly again Time after time A holiday For a girl that just wants to have fun
These poems are a journey That began in the light of hope and love Then slowly meandered through increasing darkness They dare to expose the skeletons and demons Barely hidden behind my front door for too long The narration begins in the middle After darkness had well fallen And documents my struggle to breathe My desperate journey to find myself again
And for those who live with horrors who wear human faces If I found my way free I know you can too Let these poems serve as proof That though it is not easy Freedom can be won You can take your life back Write the story exactly as YOU wish it to be
Sometimes the dragon burns down the world As long as you’re standing No matter how wounded You can slay that dragon You ARE the hero of your story YOU get to say when the story is over YOU get to decide how the new book starts YOU get to do whatever the hell YOU want Take my story and forge it into your sword of courage SLAY
In the days of old Storytellers traveled far and wide Plying their trade at hearth and square Sharing tales true and mythical Of heroes and villains Triumph and tragedy Honing the sharpness of their wordplay Weaving captivating tales for coin Where are the bards of today Spinning tales for the eager
I host a phantasmagoria of storytellers Tucked neatly into my pocket Poised to share hours of narration For an audience of one A tap a screen whisks me away Into a plethora of elaborate worlds Thousands of hours of storycraft Read by hosts of skilled modern bards Memoirs and poetry Worlds fictional and factual Could the traveling rhapsodist In their pre-modern world Dare dream of such wonders As the miraculous audiobook
Spring has arrived Birds sing sweetly In quickening branches bursting with blooms My winter soul peers out of bleary eyes Before I pull the covers over my head
I am the fourth daughter to do it alone Independence and survival are in my DNA Only child to a single mother Only granddaughter amongst the cousins Only kid on my block I have lived in comfortable aloneness most of my life Do not believe I do not get lonely I know how to remedy loneliness Trusted family Tribe Are always a keystroke or "hello" away
I'd prefer to have a partner To help me raise and support my children But not at the cost of my independence My independence is foundational in my peace If I cannot retain my independent spirit I cannot sustain my sense of self I need a partner who walks alongside me Who understands that I need to run in my wildness Who does not try to domesticate me Into something less than myself
Aloneness is not absence or lack It is the space where I meet myself It is the door to my Narnia The place where unfettered dreams thrive Where words waltz in ballgowns and tails Where stories bloom from rich soil Where I sit in conversation with discomfort Where I sit in conversation with my gods It is the garden of my delights And it is as precious to me as air
How do I manage alone you ask I understand that I'm never really alone I'm as alone as I choose to be I'm helped as much as I choose to ask for it It is not as perfect or simple as these stanzas may imply But the essence of my truth is here Simplified Distilled into a comprehensible version Of my vast and complex reality A demonstration of shifting perspective Being alone carries so much oppressive connotation I choose to experience it as a necessary liberation Allowing me to navigate life by my own north star Inspiring me to never lose sight of myself again
I don’t know what I’m doing I don’t know how to adult Waking up everyday to Some new unknown challenge I’ve been told that God doesn’t Give you more than you can handle They don’t tell you God lays out A buffet of mild to spicy experiences I don’t think I’m a fan of buffets
Love feels like Pandora's Box of contradicting experiences Love alights you upon a mountain top of elation And sequesters you in a dungeon of anxiety Love can feel like Elysian Fields And Dante's Inferno Love can make you feel like an accomplished genius And the village idiot Love gives your soul wings And your body two left feet Love makes poetry of your dreams And salad of your words Love inspires amazing highs And devastating lows Love is celebrated when it arrives And mourned when it departs Pleasure and pain separated by fate's coin toss A game of chance we cannot stop playing
Words Wishes and Wisdom 