Grief is a burden
but also a friend—
It is not grief that
wounds your heart
but it is grief that
heals your heart.
-all posts-
Lit de mort coloré
Autumn leaves blaze their swan song of color and wait for Winter to wipe the slate clean.
Golden hours
Morning golden hour is the warm glow of the day’s potential.
Evening golden hour is nature’s afterglow to a day well spent.
A final breath in winter
Dying ain’t pretty. Death is beautiful.
Spring sleeplessness
It’s winter-has-warmed-to-spring insomnia —
you don’t want to stay up late
but the warm-cool air
coming in through the windows
is a seasonal aphrodisiac
too strong to deny —
the quiet of the dark
the rustling of the leaves
the glow of the moon —
How can anyone sleep
with a breeze like that?
blowing in all the defrosted desire
that froze last November,
caressing you with earthy invitations
and fresh green scents
that make you remember
your primalness —
Why even bother turning in?
no dream will be as good
as this open-window wakefulness,
no rest worth missing
weather this wonderful —
So strip down to your skivvies
and skip the sleep —
it’s Spring!
Forty-four
i vomit confusion & butterflies
i sweat fear and i bleed dread
i fall deaf from society’s lies
i gag on metallic tastes of pain
i run from the reek of regret
i save my minutes & lose my hours
i dance on the minefield of mind
i freeze my worries for later
i breathe a reverie’d ether of beauty
i drown in fantasy too deep
i love on the edges of souls
i sleep on the shores of night
i glow at the sight of each morning
i delight in the sunshine of pleasure
i plant my seeds in thankfulness
i get high on nature’s magnificence
i stare in reverence at trees
i cherish each blissful breeze
i open every window i can
i invite every light to play
i adore every cloud in the sky
i welcome each raindrop & tear
i memorize every flower’s aura
i read old books & withering leaves
i paint myself with colors of truth
i polish the bright side’s halo
i chase angels & occasionally devils
i pray from within & without
i armor myself with art
i question my body and listen
i dream my heart’s inside-out
i work until i’m exhausted
i let go of some things & not others
i giggle breathlessly ’til i cry
i hug without asking why
i nourish my spirit with poetry
i cover my journals with ink
i drink my wisdom from teacups
i inhale wild mists of wonder
i hem my madness with sanity
i tick, i zig, i zag, and i tock
i err on the side of risk
i ride wayward shooting stars
i flow with the river of time
Paper doesn’t forget
We write to remember our nows later.
Ill & well
Do not take anything for granted — not one smile or one person or one rainbow or one breath, or one night in your cozy bed.
Brimming
Time pours his guests a cup of tea but the party is over before we know it.
Undoing
once you’ve forgiven yourself
do not un-forgive yourself on
each anniversary of the guilt
Eye floaters
snakes and worms
squiggles and sperms
phantom insects
crawling, free-falling
Stick with calm
Try not to worry, as it’s sticky and hard to scrub off.
Love-beats
Hating withers your heart. Hearts that don’t pump love, atrophy.