kryptonite

"I want you so bad I'm going back on the things I believe...
There I  just said it- I'm scared you'll forget about me..."

perspicacity

in the haze of
sleep deprivation
and excess
i sat
contemplating
this feeling of
emptiness
a lazy dissatisfaction
with everything
the gluttony of my
7
ness
even as i am aware
the dilemma of type
prevails
take a breather
meditate
learn
slow down
perspicacity
in self
engender
ruminate
on thought a while...

ocean storms

the self is an ocean

"i feel cut loose...", i stated
"you are cut loose- but you have had to do that" she responded

and in the warmth of love and compassion
of people who are touched by us and whom we touch
who see into our depths and whose depth is revealed to us
like waves overlapping
we find and are found
we cry and are comforted
a family of sorts is formed
a family of choice is created
sadness happens
and joy too
companionship
and thus the journey
of life is lived
one step
one day
one breath
at a time
...

be you
completely
...

the self is an ocean-
beautiful
bountiful
tumultuous
stormy
calm
serene
raging
gently rippling
madly breaking
...

the teaspoon

a while back
and once upon a time
i called on ken
to give me wisdom
he gave me a virtual teaspoon
and told me to dig
i have been digging since
and boy oh boy
how to describe
the highs the lows
the joy and flow
once the dust and grime are sifted through
the essence of self sinks in
and peace returns
until the next layer must be dug through...
digging and sifting
with my teaspoon
...

your face

i fill my days with activity
i run and go go go
always on the move
it helps me forget you
for a while...
and then
in the wee hours of the night
after i have beaten my body down
and worn my mind out
and eaten a tub of ice cream
and a jar of peanut butter
and as i am brushing my teeth and washing my face and my feet
and john mayer, or snow patrol or OAR or lifehouse croon in my ear
and some of our songs linger on the airwaves
my heart is awakened again
and from the icy depths of the chill i have numbed it into
so that i will not think of you
the warmth of our lost love returns
and with it the longing ache
and i crawl into bed
and turn and rest my head
in the space where your neck and shoulder met
in that empty space beside me
the tears fall
and dampen my sheets and pillow case
as i look at your beautiful face
and caress the screen that holds it
as i kiss you good night
and cry myself
yet again to sleep
and in the morning
i wake up and repeat
....

wanting and having

"I know what I want..."

false-
some days i am clueless
---
if i did
then i would
because i know i could
get
exactly what i want!

sigh...
the dilemma of
a 7
always wanting
something new
always chasing
new excitement
ever tired
bored
and on the move
all while seeking
gentle solitude
a place to roost
to settle down
and yet petrified
that one would
stagnate
die out
go up
in a puff of smoke
if one were to stop
---

gentle heart
tired soul
take a breather
stop a while
smell the roses
savor
the flavor
of life
and worry not
about
what you might miss

stay instead
closely intent
on being
simply
present
...