Forgotten Moments

Simplicity of a warm breath against your cheek
the nape of your neck

summer's warm wind quietly finding its  way to you
catching you in moments of stillness

You stand still
the realization of a day something beautiful

Ever present every moment

The hardened soles that carry us through each day  forever worn
scarcely warmed or recovered

The arms that carry loads for loved ones
Rarely kneaded with gratitude and grace

The temples that concentrate perpetual moments of deep thought
Rubbed into relaxation, a pause in time

The lobes of our ears assaulted by wondrous and perpetual sounds
Carressed with the depths of sensual quietude, eternal thanks.

Catch memories of the preening reciprocated among mammalian families
Why do we deprive ourselves of perpetual touch?
The moments nurturing ourselves with the awareness, the importance of even our most infinitessimal parts. 

G
i
v
i
n
g
.

Thanks. 

Stagnant Skin

This poem was written 10 years ago, yet it is poignantly bringing to question the same essential thought of our interconnectedness that I still ponder today.  The language is a little more ethereal and symbolic than my more emotive words of late- a reflection of  my journey through specific life passages I guess...

The Kundalini of our Collective Soul has a hole in it...

What if dream catchers could be used as light catchers- then
would we all be reconnected?
The spiral of our consciousness awakens
the sentient serpent who knows Earth,
knows the depths of darkness,
and rises
                out
to shed
               its skin
and
be
               reborn
again and again
into
              vital
                     living movement.
Ah,
to shed our stagnant skin
and
be
              reborn
under
              the unabating sun's rays,
or
              the quietude of the moonlight.
What
Liberation!

Walk into Fear

Bury me

Engross my soul
 

Rapture my being

Scorn my fury

Alight my skin

Penetrate my desire

Emblazon my thoughts

Unmask my sorrows

Distill my focus

Absorb my selfless

Core

Suspend all senses

Weaken my defenses

Inspire my inner fire

Too much for one man?
 

What it Means to Be a Man

What does it mean to be a man?

 

Show me what you want to be

It's not about pushing a girl as far as

you can

Just show her what she needs to see

That the heart is merciless

Corruptible by design

 

Its weakness is that it's not trained

by the mind.

 

Or is that what it means to be frozen

Paralyzed by the fear of being free

 

I'll show you what it means to be me

Constricted by hot embraces

And coming after more

The moth that's drawn relentlessly to

the light that will blind it

Mercilessly, she can't resist its

beauty

its warmth

its mystery

 

So show me what it means to be a man?

I want you to be.

Master of None

How do I know?  When the ocean fluries sweep allure and hold me down , a chokehold on life.

How do I learn?  When each moment is filled with the incessant mallet beating against the aging, bleating skin of life.

How do I love?  When the heart of man aged with bruises of torn spirit expose the vulnerable self.

How do I forget?  When the goal of it all is to catch the baton and race towards the next moment with greater resolve.

How do I relent?  When every moment is bigger and greater than the sum of life's mosaic parts.