

A Critical Dissertation on the Itchiness of Woolen Blindfolds
Just look at us.
Such prideful bipedals.
Running to and fro
Urgently and importantly
On our spindly little legs.
So dramatic
Our losses
Our triumphs
Our unanswered questions.
So, dear Oracle,
Gatekeeper of my infinity,
Riddle me this,
Whose laugh is the loudest lastly?
Design Flaws
I feel like an instaslut,
craving that momentary
facade of love.
An introverted attention
whore
hiding shamefully behind
my unemotional closet door,
where my heart is dying
for a quick fix,
all you have to do is click
and for awhile
I won't be so hopesick.
Need to find a connection
as disgust fights
with my desperation.
I halfway pause,
holding still,
watching for
the confirmation,
that I can continue
my life again,
in this world that insists upon
the constant spoils
of self gratification.
Divide and Multiply
To come together designates that first the two must be apart. The female must be divine in her femininity, and the male in his masculinity. They seem to be opposing, but perhaps that is what is necessary to create the dynamic for procreation. Which calls into question the current dynamic of recent times. The goal seems to be depopulation. Of course, clarity is often blurred by emotion. Perhaps this is by design. Divinity, language implies, is a gift from the Gods. We, in turn, are perhaps gifting them.
Devils Waiting in the Sidelines
When I think of blessings, it instantly brings to mind the auto common superstition of the uttering of "bless you", the quick trick to foil the devil from stealing your soul in that moment your heart stops during a sneeze. (Is that really true?!)
This ties into the definitions of "blessings" for me if I break it down and think about it. The blessing said before the consumption of food, the blessing we give to a downtrodden soul; this is giving a thanks in advance, the protection of something we don't want taken away from us. Our nourishment, our faith, our hope, our happiness. Our safeguard that our Life, our joy, will not be stolen from us. Out from under us when we are vulnerable to attack, when our guards have taken a bathroom break.
I find myself offering up blessings in those instances I realize what I take for granted, the rug I realize I am so unsteady and so grateful to be on that could be swept out from under my feet, so suddenly and irretrievably. I bless others in the words of "blessings" in a conscious way, for their happiness, and as a comfort as well.
On the days when my heart is not so heavy that it has clouded my vision; at the onset of my day when I am released from tempest darkening my Soul, I offer up a wordless gaze, rich with the vocabulary of the Universe, bursting with thanks for the blessings of now for the stretch of the canvas of today that is blank and inviting, wide open to hopes and dreams and possibilities.
Blessings to the mystery of all that is available for me, and the mystery of my hope that has created this awareness inside of my Being.
La Luna
In the darkness
that I taste
this is
no saving grace
Wasted away
the chance
for amazement
Beauty is,
after all
the key to
containment
I turn around
inside myself
sliding
down
from the
perch
I've grown to love
With a sickening
dread
I deafen myself
to the thud
Shut my eyes
tight
as Reality unfolds
All this Silence
is a stranglehold.