oh but the pussy is brave
lest we forget how much pain
the pussy can take
how much pleasure it delivers
unto itself and others
how it spit you out
without a flinch
now here you are
using the word pussy
like an insult
when you're not even
strong enough to be one.
The Guest House
This being human is a guest house.
Every morning a new arrival.
A joy, a depression, a meanness,
some momentary awareness comes
as an unexpected visitor.
Welcome and entertain them all!
Even if they are a crowd of sorrows,
who violently sweep your house
empty of its furniture,
still, treat each guest honourably.
She may be clearing you out
for some new delight.
The dark thought, the shame, the malice.
Meet them at the door laughing and invite them in.
Be grateful for whatever comes.
Because each has been sent
as a guide from beyond.
did you think
did you think i was a city
big enough for a weekend getaway
i am the town surrounding it
the one you've never heard of
but always pass through
there are no neon lights here
no skyscrapers or statues
but there is thunder
for i make bridges tremble
i am not street meat i am homemade jam
thick enough to cut the sweetest
thing your lips will touch
i am not police sirens
i am the crackle of a fireplace
i'd burn you and you still
couldn't take your eyes off me
cause i'd look so beautiful doing it
i am not a hotel room i am home
i am not the whiskey you want
i am the water you need
don't come here with expectations
and try to make a vacation out of me
Love After Love
The time will come
when, with elation
you will greet yourself arriving
at your own door, in your own mirror
and each will smile at the other's welcome,
and say, sit here. Eat.
You will love again the stranger who was your self.
Give wine. Give bread. Give back your heart
to itself, to the stranger who has loved you
all your life, whom you ignored
for another, who knows you by heart.
Take down the love letters from the bookshelf,
the photographs, the desperate notes,
peel your own image from the mirror.
Sit. Feast on your life.
it seems like the more words you write
the more you think
it is you writing them
why do you think you're in control
didn't the words come spilling
out of you the first time
pouring without permission
and now you're trying to
make them work for you
but magic doesn't move like that
your rushing is
suffocating the masterpieces
baking inside you
your job is to
show up for the process
be patient and when it's time
the universe will use you again
There she is
Going through the days
Soaking in the sunrays of the world’s emotions
Soaking in the laser shots of her own feelings
Emotional reactions hitting like arrows on a dartboard
Thoughts and ideas flood her mind
The dam opened wide, freeing the once captivated creativity
For so long. Waiting and wishing to come out
It’s overwhelming, drowning her now
The pressure is real. She must act on it. Right
The creativity is freeing and imprisoning her
Her imagination is taking over
A true dream to let her mind free flow like this
A true nightmare to have her mind free flow like that
Balance, the equilibrium that makes all digestible
That’s the true goal, that’s the true elusive holy grail
Obsession is easy, it’s lazy
Moderation takes discipline and control. Self control
The mother of all challenges
Knowing oneself, saying no to oneself is difficult
When all you do is neglect yourself
So you say yes to the excess, no to the moderation
And then cry confusion when you suffer
Balance. Moderation. Equilibrium
These are not sexy, they’re not spontaneous
Not adventurous, not dangerous
They’re boring. Like us. Humans are boring
And bored. Bored of life. Life is bored of us
What a true joy. To be bored. To slow down
Where is my magic
When does it arrive to rescue me
When does the boring become special
When does the special cure all?
I’m looking. And waiting.
I’m trying to find the special. The excitement. The thrill
The adventure. The pure magic.
Where is it. I don’t see it. I keep calling for it.
I keep doing weird and exhausting things to make it happen.
I’m told that I need to live life. So I’m living. I’m living the hell out of my life. And I’m so tired.
Where is the magic so I can calm the fuck down.
All along it’s been there. Everywhere. Every. Where.
Every. Thing. Is Magic.
The most boring is the most magical.
But we fear the boring. It’s too boring. It’s not fun.
Not exciting. Not thrilling. Not impressive. We can’t show off boring.
So we don’t believe it. We don’t believe boring when it whispers magic to us. It’s not loud enough. Shiny enough.
But the true magic is there. It’s been following me like a shadow.
Loving me unconditionally like a dog.
Pulling my arm for attention like a kid.
And I’ve ignored it. For something better. Waiting for something better.
To come and rescue me.
When will I rescue myself? How boring is that?
No one will watch a movie about me rescuing myself.
In the silence of a quiet home. With just me in there. No music.
No romance. No scandal. No drama. Just me. And me.
Rescuing myself silently. Quietly. Slowly.
As I pick up the pieces of my heart.
The pieces of my emotions scattered across my life.
In my mind, I hug myself.
I tell myself I love you.
I tell myself the words
I always wanted to hear from someone else.
You are enough.
You are special.
You are not special and don’t have to be.
You don’t have to perform or be useful.
You don’t have to do or be anything.
You are enough.
You are loved.
You are loveable.
No one needs to know.
You don’t have to prove it.
You just are. Enough.
In that silence I heard the loudest and clearest message of all.
The one I searched everywhere for. And asked everyone for.
The music stopped. The movie of my life stopped.
Everything is on hold as I take my breath away.
That’s the true romantic happy ending.
The beginning of a true life.
Of rescuing myself.
I used to envy
People in long term relationships
For everything they had built together
While I was still searching alone
I know now that
I cherish my own experiences
At times I knew exactly who I was
And what I wanted
I was once in the trenches
Of a career and job
That I loved and adored
It was short lived
My usual route was to feel
Lost and unguided
Bewildered and wondering
While others seemed so anchored
I know now that
The relationship I have is more
Flexible and fluid than it would have been
Had I not questioned everything first
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