Your soul sparkles like lights in the rain. -gws
Sparkles
Tag: wordsmithing
Thousand Cuts
I don't get to run from pain It finds me It circles like a wolf pack around wounded prey I drop to my knees Paralyzed and desperate for breath Silent screams dying on my swollen lips Tear tracks on my cheeks like tattoos There's not enough rage to power a comeback I've always gotten back up But when is enough fight enough When do I get to catch a break Death by a thousand cuts is agony Maybe I just need to lay face down in the mud And let it drown me I'm too tired to take another hit -gws
Hollywood Nights
These Hollywood nights are long
The city filled with thousands of souls
All of us together yet alone
The green and white neon outside my window burns intrusively bright
Adding to my restlessness in an unforgiving summer heat
I imagine this is what Hell feels like
All sweat, restlessness, longing, and need
The fan whirls and clicks in the corner of the room
Impotent in its efforts to bring relief
I stare at soot-stained walls remembering
You are mine and I am yours
Though we are neither
You haunt my dreams
The smell of you
The taste of you
The dancing electricity of your skin against mine
The spark of us igniting together
I submerge into the memory of us
Distracting myself from the oppression of a city that welcomes no one
I see your silhouette leaning over me when I close my eyes
I feel the softness of your lips and the heat of your breath
I shiver as goosebumps rise on my too hot skin
I can almost feel your hands on my body
And the ghost of your lust-heavy voice whispering in my ear
I let out an inaudible gasp as rivulets of sweat run races along my throat
Reminding me of your fingertips
Sirens suddenly erupt from the street
The walls now the stage for the dance of red and blue strobes
Reality returns with its harsh shadows and sharp light
Razor-edged voices rise up from the sidewalk
Flavoring the oppressive night with desperation and power struggles
I take a drag off my joint in an attempt to increase the space between me and the world
I hold the smoke in my lungs for as long as I can
Praying that when I release it that I can float away from this existence with it
Back to the place where you held me close in a cool, comforting illusion of love
-gws
Holding Space
Holding space is a sacred practice It is the ultimate act of presence Holding space is like drawing a circle of protection It feels like sitting beneath a bright sky on a warm afternoon in earl fall It feels like opening your arms wide as if you could embrace all of Creation It feels like sitting by a bedside in deep prayer Holding space is allowing room for feelings to flow freely without concerns for time Or worries of judgement, puzzling out solutions, or providing traditional comfort Holding space is not about fixing anyone or anything It is about allowing what is to just be as it needs to be It is about allowing a soul to just be as it needs to be For as long as needed It is about honoring the process It is about walking along someone in silent vigil as they navigate their journey Sometimes that is just for a moment Sometimes that is for a gauntlet Holding space is saying that my heart beats with yours for as long as you have need Without expectation Without demand Holding space is bearing witness with love, respect and grace -gws
Strength
strength isn’t about being strong.
It’s about being vulnerable.
-gws
I am a Poem
I am a complicated thing
I am metaphor and simile
I am strings of carefully chosen adjectives
I am freeform and feelings
I am lyrical pauses and dramatic imagery
I am deep truth and sharp honesty
I am unapologetic wit
I am rage and grace
I am vulnerability spot lit
I am raw and unpolished
I am real
I am a writer
I am a poem
-gws
Where I End
Where I end is not where you begin
It's where the space between us lives
The space where we both can stretch and breathe as individuals
It's the space where my dreams manifest
The space where my thoughts untangle
The space where my mind gives birth to the words manifested as my heart beats
This is a sacred space for me
My moat
My wall
My well worn path in front of my garden gate
Where I end is not where you begin
It is the absence which makes the heart grow fonder
The place where longing pushes up blooms of desire
It is the ocean between our continents with endless depths to explore and mysteries to discover
It is the chapter break between each new story we write
It is the fence that protects us from each others' demons
It is the tower spire where we can see each others' kingdoms
It is the bridge over the pond whose shores we share
Where I end is not where you begin
It is the picnic blanket we sit on beneath oak branches on an early autumn day
The breeze dancing between words read aloud under an azure sky to a soundtrack of busy bees
It is the place where we stand eye to eye
It is the place my voice crosses to reach your ears and yours crosses to reach mine
It is the space where the music plays that we dance to
It is a precious space that hosts the alchemy which manifests where our boundaries touch
It is the breath
The heartbeat
The sigh
The birthplace of connection
The space where I end is not where you being
It is the holy place held by two individuals to nourish one partnership
If it is smothered, it's bounty cannot grow
And the relationship will whither and die from lack of air and light
Hold the space
Honor the space
Tend your boarders and I will tend mine
And we might just produce something prismatic and beautiful
In the space between you and me
-gws
Artist Moon
The artist moon is calling The one that makes the blood restless And the mind discontent The one that replaces sleep With lightning storms of inspiration The moon raises the spirit of dreams unrealized And fantasies unlived It whispers of wild woods and scented winds Of primal needs and elaborate, lucid dreams I am held captive in the moon's tides Ebbing and flowing as I map my own constellations in its sky And so my mind churns My pen moves Channeling the lightning into art Painting the moon's energy with barely adequate words In a desperate attempt to contain the results of its demanding influence -gws
Please excuse the mess
Please excuse the mess This house is under construction Held together by scotch tape and string The foundation is rotten and weak And there are bats in the attack Making a terrible mess of things At least the curtains are nice -gws
Polished
I wander amongst the damp earth and moss covered trees. I walk by the water where the stones are worn smooth and reflect on how life has polished and refined me. -gws
Words Wishes and Wisdom 