not Baptist, not Jewish, not Catholic,
not Muslim, not Buddhist…
not male, not female,
not vindictive, not judgemental…
not the god of wars,
of poverty, of greed, of invasion.
god is not selfish,
not arrogant, not boastful…
god is not what you fear,
god simply ‘is’…
dialogue, bridge, match…
the echo of your soul,
calling you to yourself!
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i came from moonlight,
my grandmothers sudden gusts of wind,that came from nowhere and returned.my mother was a wolf,my father the hard trodden path.my sisters brought the rain,my brothers the bow and the arrow.my lovers made of shadows,my enemies demons that haunt.i am the fire tendedby hands unseen,the saw and the axe.i will return on a coming night,the pine…
the leaves on the tree are whispering…
birds prepare their wings for journey,i sharpen the axe, the woodpile grows.the fields mourn with stomachs filled.the chimney moans with an ache.brandy waits on the shelf in silence.mason jars filled with beans.the air pregnant with chill and woodsmoke,this body ripe with the taste of love.unmarked graves wait for headstones,pumpkins wait for the knife.eyes turn, waiting…
i find it sad how men,
throughout the centuries,have created a male world,driven by a male ego,controlled by male wisdom,under the banner of a male god,created in the image of man!and yet the power of creationhas always dwelled in the feminine…wisdom, passion, eros, beauty,and even childbirth…men in their fear of what theydont understand, and of what theycant do in themselves…have always…
coal mine Christmaslate October stare…sleeping in an abandoned boxcardown by the tracks…small pine branch fire,eyes scour the road;coffee, a few boiled potatoes,a smoke as the sun goes down….a returning vet….with no place to go!oil wars, bombs light the sky,dead bodies walk in his dreams…disillusioned, disembodied,homeless, in America!
gonna curl up
blow smoke rings and think,back over time and time….songs sung, battles fought,scars that never fade….love won, love lost,the feel and the curveof the lover’s body pressed…the sounds she made,talking in passion….small children, thunderstorms,good dogs, and good fires….sun coming up over mountains eternal…big mistakes, and small victories…a couple of moments when i could fly!lives wound together,…
if i pick the petals of your lips,
if my tongue travels the mapof your lost desire,and my soul whispers to your shadow.if i cling to you till two become one,and then open my hands, will you fly?if i drink your wetness both deep and long,and clothe your stillness with passion….if i kiss your anger with burning pulse,and name each empty chamber.will you…