Wednesday, February 23, 2011


Her death was eminent and she was partially to blame. The night’s darkness overtook her and held her captive by her name. Brilliant and bold and spectacular in her ways … though dazzling with confidence still a hostage of her fate. She was a rapture of beauty – the queen of the night – she became the face of envy towards anyone who gazed. She spoke to the silence with a cunning reserve and her voice was an angel’s; deliberate and pure. Handcrafted and original none dared to take her shoes … she enveloped the epitome of perfection and rarely made a move. In the night’s sky she blossomed and with authenticity became a star. She shone bright like the northern lights, sparkling from afar. With yesteryears she was not concerned, neither timid of her past. She was what she would always be … a diva dancing boldly in the dark.


photo copyright: darrenwoolridge.

Tuesday, February 22, 2011


I am enveloped in a cloud of smoke.
Swarming in a suffocating heat.
Uncomfortable. Stagnant.
I cannot breathe.
My thoughts are pickled: salted for flavor but lacking any nutritional value ~ for my soul. for my life. ~
they are just thoughts.
Glorified to fit my dream, but short of substance to sustain my growth ... of who I am … and of who I envision myself to be.
I am a dreamer who has quit dreaming.
I am a fighter who has suddenly lost the ability to fight.
I am a singer who does not sing and an actor who does not act.
I’ve become an isism. I just am. I live in the moment and have stopped preparing for the future. I have lost whatever fire I had and sit by the night to watch the ember glow.
Change is coming though. There is hope on the horizon. I can see it out there, sparkling in a haze over Venice boulevard. A glorious hue of pink and gold … I see it as clear as day dripping with diamonds and laced with glowing cinders of hope. It’s above my house now, hovering in attempt to guide me to the next level:
of my career. My life. my love. my dreams.
And it will sit there, until I am ready .. until I reach out to it with my bare hands.
Its fruits ... full of grace are waiting on me, to say yes, to move the corners of my heart, to let it in, to allow its gentle warmth to undo the ice that has started to freeze my insides.
It.is patient. It. Is good. and It. has awakened me.

~Sept. 08

photo copyright: www.sensitivelight.com


The terrain around me is steep with rubble. My foot cannot seem to balance. My hands claw at the ground, grasping for some kind of stability.
They come back to me,
bloody and worn,
scratched and torn …
and, I, in my brokenness,weep for their abuse.
In the midst of my heartache,the world has darkened.The trees hang low, whispering to me in a language only the broken-hearted can hear.
They share in my solace. They warm me with their shade.
The edges of my love are tattered with remorse and drip with longing. My head hangs in defeat.
from being convinced of a lie I could not see.
I pick up my heart, soaked in its frustration,shattered into pieces that I can hardly carry with both of my hands.
Beneath my feet, and throughout my tracks, a soiled red trail follows me.
It cracks as it stains,
and then it


photo copywright: www.wizards.com


The air around me distills into a threatening fog. My lungs choke on their discourse, and shocks of consciousness awaken my intelligence. The veils of truth have been uncovered and a snowy drizzle of respect has softly enveloped my heart. This has long been awaited and my heart beats clearer now, with a steady conviction to only beat in days, threatening to stop if I continue to play mayhem with its soul and promising to relapse if I bring up his name in conversation again. My nights are endless … It is here that I dream, in circles, not wanting to awake... finding that when I do, the reality of my life burns my throat when I suck it in … like a broken cigarette that smokes itself down to only ash and then blazes your fingers and leaves a foul stench. So I learn to dream deeper. Losing myself to a world where I awaken a life inside of me, I find it is far more potent than any cologne I have ever worn. Light surrounds me, my desire begins to grow, and then a peace, with gentle wings, flows in making a moat around my heart. It calms as it flows, perpetuating the transformation about to take place. Life is tiptoeing beside me, unsteady, fearful to make a mistake. Commitment screams from the back shadows as I try to force my way through the crowd untouched and unscathed... but it is impossible to do. Pieces of you and he glow as you brush past me illuminating my mouth in the holes where your love is gone in the places where we used to kiss, in the places where I am afraid to love. I yearn for exploration, engaging in days in distant lands with far off journeys. I expect change. I will not become a victim to contentment. I will push forward, excelling to the next level of realization day after day after sweet day dividing myself into two halves that continually entangle into each other to become a stronghold of conviction and love.


Wednesday, February 16, 2011


The page stays blank. My mind spins uncontrollably. The lullaby that used to comfort me, has been seized in the night by demons that control it. The world is a mess and our lives misunderstood. When do we take a stance? When do we start breathing life into our lives and when does the truth finally come out? Life is like a puzzle. Until the end of our days, we continue to keep fitting piece after piece into our picture perfect little worlds. Sometimes the pieces fit but most times they don't and we continually keep trying to pound the wrong piece into the right place or even the right piece into the wrong place. We play games with ourselves trying to convince the puzzle that it's wrong ... we turn our circumstances upside down, and inside out, trying to debunk the obvious not realizing that it will never be. The puzzle is already determined. How and if we finish is decided by you. and me.

I am pieces of myself, scattered … I have sentenced myself to a life of always wanting more, never knowing how to settle with what I should. I want my life to take shape and mold and blend and melt into what it is ultimately colored to be. But. I keep space. I build walls. I walk bridges between the circumstances (back and forth and back and forth) and I never fully commit to allowing the pieces to just … fit. I want. I expect. I need; too much. Or maybe it’s too little.
I am trying to make sense of what is going on. in this world, in my life, of the dreams that have become the makeup of me, of you and your thoughts. our lies … of and to each other. of our fears … our desires …
I prayed for perspective and when it showed up on my doorstep, I was amazed with the force that it slapped me with. My world changed. Unexpectedly … and in a moment the puzzle made sense. The pieces began to fit … perhaps not permanently, perhaps not forever, perhaps only momentarily, but in that lovely moment my perspective became my hope and in that hope became my ability to live and through living, I loved. I swelled with emotion as I felt my faith soar to another level. I wondered then, if I would ever be the same.


photo found at: coolchaser.com