nighty night

when i sleep next to a good man, his hand on any part of me in combination with delectable weight,
sends me to what some call bliss or enlightenment. perhaps it's just someone reaching for you in the morning
that's the feeling that gives the self-smile.
hands and weight and breath and a feeling you can enjoy without having to believe in anything at all.
the shelter i find the in the hearts of my dearest girlfriends and sisters. knowing without thinking and sharing without explanation. contact without touch. glances and laughter that make whale songs pause and remix.


but i get it now...
i'm all of these things.
i reach no longer
i find love
laugh to myself
because i've been getting affirmation
that maybe it's just right to risk ourselves,
love ourselves
so we can dole it out more.
i walk around. i pay attention. and i could do just this
forever.
when i was a kid i just felt ready to go...to move on...
i've stayed longer than i imagined was right.
i suppose i'll just keep going.

options

a) give yourself a foot massage
b) write in your blog
c) try and make sweet love to any man that moves
d) go back to the sacred act of makin' sweet love
e) get an easy to manage, lower vibrational "boyfriend" so you can feel "happy"
f) eat some delicious Pocky
g) take vibrationally higher lovers and enjoy it because they're not yours to lose
g) trim cuticles with cuticle trimmers, trim fingernails with teeth
h) during art walk, be a demo for a hair salon and get a cut& dry on the sidewalk for cheap
i) fantasize, daydream, then touch yourself in an according and satisfying fashion
j) have an awkward interaction with your neighbor
k) change a few lightbulb because they "could go any minute now"
l) type this sent e nce like you're a dj at the mixing board
m) read poetry
n) up and leave
o) think of how much you love your friends
p) lick your lips
q) receive some magical affirmation from the universe that your beloved is on the way
r) get some sleep
s) make a wish
t) say mantra
u) try on different outfits and re-purge your closet
v) keep remembering that anything can happen
w) love that you can sleep in tomorrow
x) regret spending so much money today, then realize that does no good and it doesnt matter
y) be happy that all of your decisions today were felt yesses
z) never settle for less than what makes you the happiest you can be

eureka

on the day that i decided to no longer write about the past, everything fell into place. i dunno if this'll stick, but the decision was enough. anything can happen and when you live like everything is one, all time is one moment, and you've got nothing but your heart and your belly and your mouth, even the air gets rad.
i'll have more human and insane days, but this full moon, there's more falling away and healing than i know about or planned for. like tolle says, abundance is not more things, but a deeper connection to fewer things, alignment with life...letting go of stories and agendas, realizing that it's THAT easy to not resist. osho asks us to move like a river, swirling, passing beauty, lingering sometimes near trees and flowers, but always moving to the greater source. songs, since melody was born, pull something unique, shiny, and rare out of each soul that crosses paths. we relate because of this web and suddenly i see all the people in my life who are dear to me as parts of me, kinda literally as i breathe them in. chunks of ourselves..walking around...more often than not, hoping that we recognize one another as the same.
all is still, all is swooshing, only to help us see that metaphor after metaphor passed down through time, points deliberately in one direction. i no longer need to stray or wonder about forks in the road. i have everything i need because i'm always home. it doesn't make sense to me to know this and not be at ease, not follow it and live accordingly. all i wanna do is watch people get closer.

the feline tic tock

why men are so wonderful:
their hands, arms, shoulders, hair, the faces they get when they're trying to work things out. the faces they make when they are solving problems and are about to make this solution known. the faces they make before they smile, while smiling, and after they smile.
all of the noises they make without making sense.
strength and weakness all rolled up in one. they take charge. they let go..

the way they let me let go, ignore all my world-beating sensibilities, and go ultra-feminine, super feline, magic madness.

i wanna sleep in the quiet of all the good men i've known, and kiss all of their mouths tonite. i wanna wrestle with a pair of hands that know the struggle is only a fight to contain myself.
find me, hold me, grab my face, say "i'm finally fucking here, impatient one".

love will seal my eyelids shut for a good forty-seven seconds. in the following sixty seconds your right hand will glide down my arm and sink into my left hand.
ten fingers join while the other ten will accept the task of a very busy and mapless journey,
a scavenger hunt where knocked down doors and unmanned fires only lead to more riddles that need no solution.

vulnerability

what is the most effective way to sneak onto your skin,
becoming tiny enough to steal your love if i have to?
how do i do this?
perhaps one night as i light a candle
the wax will burn from the outside in,
leaving nothing but the gumdrop flame
which in the next breath i pluck from the air like
a ripened grape
and pop into my mouth
swallowing,
i disappear to the naked eye
as it lights my organs like
the watchtowers of The Great Wall
beginning at the belly and spreading outward
beyond and above the space of the fontanelle
there will be heat and clarity



the question will change:
not how tiny but how expansive can i be?
quantum hopping on the lilly pads
of molecules between us
the question of not how tiny but how expansive
how strong these thoughts of you have to be
to make you feel me
like i feel you
in the middle of my night
deeply
this process is frightening
the angler fish dangling its light in the depths
where it seemed impossible for this flame to even shine

fkjf

thisisasentencewithoutanyspaces

and it was difficult to type but i'm okay

i lived through it

just as i will live through having just enough .

if i could move through each piece of now, i would.

i will.

i have a box in my closet marked 'the past'

and it holds nothing that i want to keep.

i do not have a box marked the future because that would be silly.

fuck that box. who wants their future in a box?

i keep my future on a list that shines out in my room

what screams out from that list screams out so loud that it becomes real.

i'm getting close to giving without wanting

i hope it's not laziness that

i don't wanna claim anything.

i feel lately that i don't have the right to be so posessive.

OH NO

everything im learning

boils down to paying attention

i like doing that

i like it so much that i can go long periods of time

without

talking.

i like doing.

i like paying attention.

i like ice cream

i like long drives

i like learning

i like kissing

i like wearing boots and bathing suits

(but not at the same time)

i remember the feeling of being closely held by another human being and

i liked that. a lot.

i like dancing barefoot

and flailing around so crazily that youd think my parts would fly off my body

i like accomplishing things

i like not knowing because i feel safe in it

i like not needing proof of who i am...that's what makes kissing so good.

disconnect

i feel like i'm taking huge paces towards a very important door...and the strides are made in slow motion, as if my feet are stuck in tar, but i'm okay with this.

i wonder if i can stay in this job for one more year. i feel alone in it.

i am alone in it right now.

more meditation, feeling it out, more doing, more stops.

the meditation is in what i do and what i do feels like it is in slow motion and i wonder if i will ever be intimate with anybody ever again.

this is a slow opening.

i am a slow opening.

tender, pulsing, alive, alone.

I opener

i practice loneliness.

and lately,

emptiness.

But, when i meditate, I feel a vastness replace that space.

something takes over,

knocking out the walls that separate my lungs, heart, and brain,

I am able to claim my name

and have the three

join in union.

if my eyes are windows

this new space is a large kitchen

with canary yellow curtains

letting the sun's warmest beams

dance in patterns

where my bare feet are gonna go.

I no longer brace for the cold.

this is a kitchen void of cutlery,

with the exception of the occasional spoon

I eat with my hands,

gently separating

what would usually be cut with knives

with my fingers.

I form these pieces with cookie cutter precision,

the best star-shaped pb & j sandwiches in all the land.

the three windows

(bend and you will become whole.

so says the tao teh ching.)

you were afraid of waking the neighbors.

you were scared of walking through my living room

so you crawled through my window.

i thought you were joking.

all throughout the night,

while we were not cuddling,

i had the construction people build a twisty slide

for my escape.

it was chilly out when i left.

i hired my dentist to wait at the bottom

for the sole purpose of handing out lollipops.

sucker.

this one has a magic window.

"ah."

through this window you can look out of all of Los Angeles

late at night

and imagine what the nightshift is doing in the buildings

with elevators racing up and down.

"oooh. interesting."

yes. i knew you'd like it.

this couch here is for fake yawns, caressing, and lit cigarettes.

go ahead, you can touch it. feels real, doesn't it?

"mm hmm....oh, and how about the bedroom?"

oh, i was saving that for the end, madame.

the bedroom room has music

that pops out of very tiny speakers

installed in all six of its corners.

when the jukebox of love is on,

it sounds like a very tiny circus

is playing familiar songs far off in the distance...

see?

"i see.

i'll take it."

she had to watch her head.

the latch jutted out from ceiling

when the window was open.

her hair got caught on it

often.

this make out room was meant for people

who were used

to military crawling along the grounds

of mine swept

and wanting hearts.

she knew he was a native to that land,

but

it wasn't until the sun came up

that she noticed all the scalps.

i get into stories about the ocean

If I

jumped up

and clung to you with sandy feet,

the

only

appropriate response

would be

to fling your head back,

laugh,

and carry me

into the waves

with you

forever.

i need a time out

i need it like i've been hit in the belly by a giant red rubber dodge-ball half the size of me,

with a scraped knee bloody and still burning

with no friends on my side

and ten minutes remaining

of this recess that wasn't a recess at all.

it was an onslaught of no good snack trades,

lack of band-aids,

no whistles,

asphalt bruises,

distant laughter,

and ugly crying.

shaky and gasping,

a grown up is feeling like a twelve year old who's

afraid of looking like a baby in front of everyone.

can i go back in time with the grace of now?

a mish-mash of wisdom from all of my ages:

I summon the maturity to wash my wounds, dust my elbows off and sweep the little kid ponytail off to one side.

I laugh at the grown-ups watching because this turn,

this is the turn i pick my magic square.

This turn the marker falls just right:

with a flash from the sun,

slowing the seconds,

morphing them into a montage of hopscotch victory,

ninja style double-dutch,

and capturing the flag without turning back.

if i can look forward enough to do so,

i can look back until i become drowsy from all this hoping.

ancient tradition says detachment is a part of it.

all is transitory.

all my happenings are done and there is only this:

a heart that draws things to me. breath that gives me light.

a sighing out of joy and relief.

Yet inside, still existing beautifully, is that shakiness.

under real and cosmic blankets, while i'm curled up in a ball,

is that feeling and that very basic need

of being

held.