Category Archive for "Poetry"

21 Secrets is Starting Soon!

I have a habit of saying Yes before I have the opportunity to say No…I don’t mean this in a bad way, like saying yes to things I authentically don’t want to do. (I don’t do that shit.) I mean I say “Yes” to big things that I would otherwise talk myself out of if I “think about it” first. Quite frankly, I had about a million reasons to say no to Connie when she asked me to be her Wild Card in this spring’s 21 Secrets crew. But I listened to my inner guidance that said “Hurry up and commit” and I went for it. And it was a challenge. I played for months with exactly what I wanted to say and how I wanted to say it, especially since the whole topic was how to use art journaling when you’re in that place of processing and inner growth…

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A Game of Gravity

hers is a game of gravity of keeping each object just beyond her fingertips constantly orbiting the radius of those wounds hers is the dance of a well-protected heart the dance of push-pull like the wrong end of the magnet that wants to flip, attach but erratically dances under the grip of a well-trained hand hers is the rejection of rejection the compulsion of revulsion the comfort of discomfort that wraps around those shoulders to maintain what has become a wonderland within reaffirming the story that she tells that the tower is safer than the mote and much more tragically romantic [Photo Source]

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Poem: forgiveness is a timid beast

the hours moved around and the moon changed positions in the sky from left to right but his arms never once unwound from around her such has been his ache that now no amount of space found between their flesh could be understood, tolerated as he absorbs her his warmth becoming her warmth his arm, her pillow his joy in her arrival and that there was no sign of retreat being his comfort, his healing but in the creeping dawn as his palms and fingers wandered so did her mind and as his love grew so did her discomfort because forgiveness is a timid beast revealing itself its need in the darkness of the moon and in the light, shirking back again

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Upside Down Makes More Sense

their story is a cautionary tale a monsoon thunderstorm dropping a deluge on the desert bristling with electricity most storms move fast this one crept over whispering, “Some things you learn best in the calm. No two storms are the same. No two skies are either, so watch closely.” so I let go and found it all upside down and suddenly making sense Have you ever had that sense? That everything is upside and off from the ways in which you thought it should be, and yet – without being able to articulate a damn word of it – you knew it all made sense. This is the fact of Life. It all makes sense. Always. But what throws us around is our ideas of what should be. Our thoughts. Our expectations. Our demands. Swirling and upheaving the whole delicate balance of Nature, of our Nature. It’s terrifying to let…

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you’re gonna miss this

You’re gonna miss this And I know how trite that sounds When its not my kid kicking and screaming on the floor But please Please listen to me Cuz you’re gonna miss this You’re gonna miss when the worst case scenarios mean picking them up and carrying them out Because you won’t be able to do that soon And you’ll have to help them find ways to pick themselves up before long And you’re gonna miss when you had the power to hold them and brush your hand over the head and sweep away their fears Because it won’t be long until they are confronting those things alone, on their own, because they know they need to You’re gonna miss coming home to their projects across the dining room table and sprawled over the floor and outlined in crayon on the wall Because there will be a day when the…

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bursting at the Seems

you try to seem so poised so graceful as though you somehow got it all together you try to seem relaxed and comfortable as though you somehow only care just enough you try to seem professional successful as though you somehow mastered the game you try to seem so patient compassionate as though you somehow never scream in anger but your bursting at your Seems holding in your breath to shrink your screaming ribs and keep yourself tucked in, constricted and unmoving you can’t keep a charade like this going on forever you can’t wear a costume that doesn’t even fit sooner or later your lungs are gonna burn your heart will gasp and all your carefully stitched Seems will be torn open leaving only your realness to be seen please don’t fear this day this realness assuming it will be ugly, misshapen, unloveable it only Seems that way so…

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rain is only your perception

Rain is only your perception Clouds are only your ideas Above it all the sun remains Bask in what is always there Soak up the energy of what cannot be removed This too can be your source of strength {A quick and gentle reminder for me and for you as the rains pour down and we seek to remember the sun.}

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Art Journaling Addiction: Finding Truth Beneath My Fingernails

I don’t know why it’s taking me so long to blog about this, except maybe that I’m still making sense of it myself. Making sense of how I could miss something I’ve never experienced. Making sense of how it brings tears to my eyes to think of myself doing it, to recognize it in myself, to finally have given myself “permission to art”. Making sense of how it’s drawing me closer to a dead father, a man whose artistic ability I never really knew while he was alive. Making sense of how it’s bringing words – my ingrained and ever-ready art – to life with colors and lines and images. There are so many of you out there to whom art or art journaling is already a part of your life. And so many more of you who ache for it in the way I ached for it, hungry for…

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Experiences with Mama Ocean

i didn’t even want to be there, at the ocean i told myself this tender space i was in was already too much i had too many tendrils out in the world and my heart was overwhelmed and the only thing i knew i wanted was to not feel this way sadness aching for unknown reasons as my cracked open shell weeped a pain i didn’t have a name for i had been in a space of spiritual healing tucked away in my notebook in my walks in my quiet space to protect myself from the harshness of the world i could breathe in that quiet space, could feel the ache subside until i stepped into the world again and felt it’s heaviness wrap over me and so i didn’t really want to go to the water out there in the world even for the quick glimpse they all promised…

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Right when we need to love each other most

You build with mortar the barriers around you Going into shutdown mode With robotic automation And I pick up the slack With my overwhelming frustration An attempt to bulldoze your red brick wall My mind whispers otherwise Reminding me its compassion that tears down fences That creates safe spaces that coax you out of hiding But usually my ego wins Responding from the fear recalled by my previously wounded heart You’re not him Any of those other hims And I’m not the girl I was then either Nor am I the person who taught you to withdraw But still we slip into those places our experiences have created Those places that tell you to hide And me to fight for my life That forget the safety we can celebrate in the other’s arms And I’m thankful for those moments for two reasons. One: that they never last long That what…

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