Sensible Advice Women Taught Me


Design

 

You start dying slowly,

If you forget how to empathize

If you don’t practice compassion,

Don’t cherish friendship,

If you forget what gratitude is,

 

You start dying slowly when you kill

Your love of adventure, your wish for experience

Growth, authenticity, wide-eyed vulnerability

You start dying slowly when you forget your youth

 

How to play, let go, and celebrate

You start dying as you forget romance

Walking everyday the same path

Keeping to yourself, wearing the same thoughts

 

You die slowly if you forget to mediate, appreciate

Socialize, help others, feel passionate about others

Empower, mentor, support, idealize

If you don’t stand for something you believe in

 

If you do not go after a dream

Of living for something completely

How can you even say you have lived?

 

If you do not allow yourself room for failure

At least a million times in your lifetime

Don’t pretend you have lived, don’t even try

 

Because compassion, gratitude, empathy and forgiveness

Is what makes us human, sweet hearted and sentient.

 

 

Legacies of our stars


Screen Shot 04-19-15 at 09.23 AM

Legacies of our stars

It’s the Spring, it knows what we are
But knows not what we may be
And everything is possibility
Beneath these stars, this world stage

What part shall we play
In these seasons four, whom we love
But trust a few, doing wrong to none
There is a tide in us that flows

From love to love to legacy
It’s what we do that finally counts
The actions for which a life was made
And words have a foolish wit

For believing themselves acts, they make us witty fools
No legacy is so rich as honesty
Hell is an empty place, with all the devils here
Listen to all, speak your heart to a few
It’s the Spring, it’s time to show another face.

On Carriage held but just ourselves and Immortality


54

On Carriage held but just ourselves and Immortality

I cannot stop for death
One man’s heart breaking
Is another woman’s birth
I cannot live in vain

For there has never been
Another one quite like me
Not I, unto the nest again
Descendent divinity shall wrap

All my mortal wounds
Filling me with light
Hope is the thing with feathers
That fly on dreams that dance

At every dawn, at every twilight
I cannot stop for death
But I must risk it all
To live the life I want

Death will not ask me for directions
When it is to Immorality
Of the soul for which I walk
I know no haste, for I believe

In my appointed hour and place
I cannot stop for death
For Fate has me in his civility
I labour past leisure for a cause

Of which all previous acts accumulate
I cannot stop for death
For eternity will feel jaded
If I stop for long for anyone.

Philosophy of disappearances


27

the mystery of things?
what is the outcome
of this drama of life

what mystery? We get to live
then die, one moment the sun
the next we close our eyes

the only mystery is that
some people think about mystery
to forget the sun is not impossible

if we close our eyes
but if we are blind, we hear
more intensely, if we are

introverted, we internalize
more sufficiently, as if
the world were an experience

approached from many different perspectives
it’s not a mystery we approach
life in dramatic fashion, branding

it ours, I am, in large measure
the examination of choice
the will to freedom, the instinct

to flee from that which is difficult
the mystery of things?
is that I love in language

and touch with my eyes
that I evolved to outgrow God
then die, one moment a brain

the next a light across the universe
a star, a medium fluid of space-time

Simulation of a Dream


72

Stillness
In the middle of the night
Hush like centuries
With each other
Only to know that we were not fixed
But changed, in the silence
Where nothing moves and everything
Flowers and exchanges
Reincarnates in place
It’s the quantum structure
Of how mutations occur
Like syllables on the vacation
Of the summer, that was
The rest of our lives
The hour grows and falls over us
Luminous, like the moonlit window
Clouds full of sunsets behind them
Surround us with poetic insomnia
I hear an anthem in them
That could be a teleportation of history
In the middle of the night
Where revelations occur
With each other
Tomorrow, the hours will be larger
Than ever and pregnant with something
Other that what I was today or ever was
I am here, at my beginning
Free in the will of the invisible
Where we are all algorithms.

Artist: Agnes Cecile (http://www.eyesonwalls.com/products/this-thing-called-art-is-really-dangerous-fine-art-print)

Starlike Pedestrians


55

The future is intangible
each world leaps ahead of thought
we cannot keep up
ahead of sound
ahead of the night

this world’s lips
kiss ideas not ready to be born
but their time will come
the scarlet tattoo of centuries
like Mars, and new Earths

nothing can prevent survival
not red stars, not pandemics
The future is a prophetic beggar
not asking us if we are alright
but asking if we are willing to risk

to move to a more prosperous town
can change our destiny
to move to a further star
can change our descendants
irrevocably, splinter colonies

choice becomes lineage
fate becomes legacy
destiny becomes the bridge we had to burn
to save the forest

Final Harvest


20

‘Tis not that Dying hurts us so
Love is dying in a different way
Being let go, like yesterday’s memory

By someone we still love –
‘Tis living, the ambush of little hurts
That aren’t so shrill if we make

Bliss, our mortal baseline
And bow to everything, and learn
‘Tis not that dreams pass too slow

It’s that we have a set number of choices
We can ever make, hitting Reset
Is not the same as an involuntary rebirth

‘Tis not that Dying hurts us much
Life is not the mourning attachment it once was
When our heart is broken forever, by one final episode
That allows us to live another way.