Too Much Media or Facebook Overload

maybe im just exhausted
from too many computer
hours making my dream
online Fair Trade store
come alive or maybe
i'm really just sick
of everyone who knows
everything and quotes
everyone who knows
everything when i want
to sit in the moonlight
or sunlight and listen
to the voice of a universe
i am a very piece of
feel her filling up
the spaces that are
empty from too many
answers i want to soak
my feet in the water of
oneness, lay down on
the bed of not knowing
empty the brain and open
the mind i don't mind
being ingnorant, knowing
i learned a long time ago
won't save me i let go
like a monkey jumping
from tree to tree not
even a whisper of fear
to keep me from smiling

 

 

Old Women Believers

divine love is my light 
my very life who then
can intimidate me i hear
the raging sometimes going
on right under the same roof
where i live reminding me
of childhood abuse and danger

but just one deeper thought
and i am no longer afraid we
old women are still haunted
by stories that sing dirges
in the ears of our pasts
we cannot endure a child's pain
or the errors of the arrogant

greed rides on our backs causing
ultimate aches and yet we who have
endured so long see light in this
dark planetary crisis see something
so beyond even the rising seas and
the toxic clouds the used to be our breath
see waves of hope coming from the very
humans and earth that seem so destroyed

we are still here waving the flags of our
old clothes standing in the midst ready
to leave if it is our time, but willing to stay
we can play in the back lash of what we have done
capture a prayer, a poem, a story a painting 
hold all as we have our own children and grands
the prickly pears and the soft sweet babies 
the wrinkled knees and thinning hair give us
a clear idea of all that really is beyond this 
burial of a must pervasive jointly held illusion
we are here for the funeral the interment and
finally the resurrection of reality.

A Word A Beat and A Place to Call Home

in the wee hours do
you hear the messages
written to you 
on the skin of your soul?

is it time to jump from
your cultural survival plane
without a parachute certain
you will land on your feet like
that dream you had so many years ago?

is there a boy scout pretending to be 
alive like your friend's soul message
telling you to follow the rules and be
good, instead of dancing with the stars
or is the boy scout really dead and you 
have moved on to love over duty?

is love really the power you have been thinking 
comes from having money? does this divine essence
make a home for living in and an abundance
that pays the bills and brings bliss
can you really quit searching and start living?

tonight the message written on the tablet
of my heart says only one word: it stands alone beating
out the tune of the One who formed the Universe saying YES, YES, YES 

Open the Doors

open the doors i say to myself
unscript the splendor of life
live it whole no boxed edges
sight is not what you see
but what you've been given

open the your sleepy eyes
i tell myself let the dawn
rise inside, the sun shines
from your lighted being
God is in heaven but
heaven is in your own bones

unblock your plugged ears,Jude
words are the source of creation
you are not waiting for life
you are making it, say the word
make it flesh and Christ is alive in you

walk into the sunset unafraid of the dark
i sing an even song to myself on the road again
uncover the only path...they all lead to Nirvana
Love all powerful holds you and the million
Universes together praise the source adore
all being sometimes hard sometimes easy always in harmony
sing to the light and to the night and to the All One your home.

Post Parting

almost two weeks now
Dad has gone to parts
unknown though i feel
him wherever i go

the most haunting when
Alexa at Toni's house
started singing without
being cued and a blues
song about sin and crossing
Jordan came on, my Dad's
last name Jordan and he was
a Baptist preacher, oh, he
is around all right watching
over my mother, checking on
me in new ways, i feel
less of a loss i think than
those of my kin who believe
in a far away heaven where they
will join him some day what we
know is little, but people keep
telling me they felt him close
when they saw one of his favorite
birds, a cardinal come and sing
to them, when i heard affirmations
from him when i was writing his
funeral poems, is it true i have
an extra advocate unseen helping
well if it's not true than i'm 
not hurting myself much to feel him near

Nothing is Right

night falls quickly
pain psychic all encompassing a
scrape on the skin of
my soul, stinging and
bleeding i hold his
hand and he vice
grips mine as if he
were not leaving yet
as if this thing we
lived in would go on and on