On the truth in gossip


57

listen to the stories women
tell other women, O’
I miss my women friends
who would talk a history in a needle
listen to a name, gossip a little
that sound of other places
with a foreign taste
the ripeness of a voice
made vulnerable and accessible
I am no longer a hunter of women
I have only empathy left
In my bones, in my half-smile
You can only live and learn
In this world, there is no disgrace
That lasts forever, only heartbreak
That is extremely normal
So don’t fret, the falling seas
The falling snow, we’ve seen it all before
Listen to the stories of women
To the wisdom passed down
On hearing a name long unspoken
Take a guess as to why you hear it now
Our cries echo in unique ways
And our voice reaches the heart
At the appointed time, maybe
Centuries later, our love is recognized.

Treatise on Carl Jung


50

Embrace your darkness, for there
Is always something to learn
Look deep within your own heart
We are the most brilliant teachers
Of ourselves, and what kind of pupils?

We are two personalities then
One lives and the other watches
We are both male and female
Like two chemical substances
If both are bonded & react, how do they transform?

Let the light in and accept the darkness
Love thy defects until they are virtues
Sharpen thy virtues until they dissolve
Your own recipe for living just needs
Some seasoning, so create yourself anew

Liberate the hypothesis on which you base your life
Until you find a freedom to die and be born again
The pendulum of pain teaches of a secret order
I am not what happened to me
I am therefore, what I choose to become;
You are what you do, not what you say you’ll do.

Weightless we stirred ashes with our hands


7

Weightless are our holy words
with breaths from owlish darkness
our swooning shoulders cannot move
without thought, without poetry

We bury our fingers in the inner voice
to bring up the alchemy of water
where our empty body is pure energy
We scatter ourselves, moving light

with the serenity of our minds
we run through gates of sunshine
to find the words that move us
from brightness to blindness

Weightless, we are a unity of undoing
creating on seven strings the pillars of salt
that will crease the page as a pure sky
with wings of fire and gentle radiance
our words were meant to pour the oil of care.

Photo Courtesy: http://www.deviantart.com/art/Winter-in-the-Overberg-407174930