I Did It

Shotgun shells hot in my mouth
Bounce across the floor of calamity
A more sensible bird than I would fly south
When the key turns to unlock a vacation home's worth
Of trauma much in need of marie kondoing.

The musty smell of all that ended
And all that will end in an uncertain future
Fill my friends' nostrils as they visit
And tend to my broken heart
Dressing wounds they cannot see.

And here I am, alone, floated by the love
Of everyone and the person I cry for.
Because love is a victim of circumstance,
And happiness is no more than a prayer,
They say, "leave your heavy heart behind."

"It gets easier. Next year will be your oyster,"
They promise pearls in lieu of wisdom,
Unaware of the guilt that incubates,
The fight between good and evil diminished
By my own selfish suffering.

Body Anxiety

O Circumstance, I am but your guiltful prisoner,
Who builds their ship from a forest of experience,
To navigate the choppy waters of happenstance.
I beg thee for the grace to deliver me forth
To your sisters, Intent and Purpose,
And the redemptive hands of Acquittal.
Let love see fit to lift the heaviness of loss.
Do not let me forget the grounding
That's found in honoring instinct and intuition.
Let me always intimate from my body the wordless lessons
To be found from a lifetime's history and a deeper remembering.
I vow to myself to always be my own safe haven,
To never compromise the messages soma delivered.
I trust my internal alarms above all socialization
And recognize that respect has served me well,
No matter what pleasing inclinations try to dissuade.
In dignity, we heal and reclaim autonomy and independence.
Nothing in this universe is so static. 
Grasp the present and release the dynamic movement of place and time
For the appreciation of that refinement of variance.
Sustain me as I eschew the inclination to objectify the subjective.

Remember

Fast worship shines through the boiling lake of lust
Delirious joy, fiddle drunk, heaving together
Through a thousand stormy seas of bitterness
Sweating, crying, cooled and pleased
Our tongue chanting the gorgeous blood
Of Heaven, screaming love like tiny symphonies
As frantic language drools from the mouths of men
One thousand moons witness the meanness
Beneath the mists of our mortal suffering
I recall a red braid intertwined in the Ceylon's roots
Diving deep to an unseen spring of elan vital
The pole, a soft embrace meeting breath and air
And desire sailing the blue seas of opportunity and endeavor
Save me from the clever haunt of cyclical natures
And send me home to velvet intuition in the belly of wisdom
Perfumed by earthy experience and integration
A slow universe looks upon the open magic in our work
To devour the liquid rhythm we spill over our exposure
The wild sacred longing for the milk in my eye
I linger to kiss the broken ice, ferocious and fat, smiling for a ghost
The morning decays into a porous sunset blessed