Blessing Of A Glass Half Empty

O Pessimism

Forgive us for our mischaracterization

Bestow upon us the clarity of Pragmatism

And lift the distorted veil of Faith

Let us design our agendas 

Free from optimistic ambition

On the pure bedrock of Realism

Grant us continued protection from 

The sharp-edged sword of Hope

The mistress of Futility 

Who compels us to bail our ships

When we are better suited 

Donning life vests and boarding rafts

Let not the milky tears of Security

Blind us from the utility of Truth

Assign to us Disquiet so that we may predict

Our futures free from the bias of Idealism

Summit

Where stunted shrubs sweep thick clumps 

Of green delight across crumbling taupe canvases of stretched reason,

Unafraid to lick the snowy drifts of understanding prostrated across wisdom's polished crests,

A dangerous seventh wind of that mountain top 

Also inhabits the same body that swims delirious through the landscape of sleep.

As the soul strokes a coin reflecting the aching light of love,

Nine centuries grow pink in the rising and setting sun of samsara.

Reflected in the wet pebbles on a beach of memory,

I stumble over the soft spoken promises of a long forgotten friend, a trembling petal entrapped by an invisible current.

A new season steps barefoot into the mossy carpet of eternity 

Obediently displacing previous instances' murmurs into the intoxicating wash of time.

The suite of worship, radiantly languid as it patiently trickles through porous faith, 

Beckons, standing in the foyer of yesterday,

Rendering ghost and flesh as elaborately indiscernible as rain and river cupped in the same vessel.

Sifting

Grant me the restful slumber of fresh snow upon the streets
Blurring all senses with cold gentility.

Grant me the peace that only meadows know
Of the inauguration of certainty and faith.

Buoy my spirit through the choppy waves of vulnerability.

Fasten the cloak of hopeful compassion around my shoulders

As I face the cold sleet of anguish and despair.

Warm the bones of my soul with
The flames of companionship and community,

And send me with zealous affection
And earnest fondness into each enterprise I endeavor.

Barbarism

Laughed at by the gods
Our losses just an elaborate prank
To entertain something more
If freedom and abandonment
Were not loud enough
To put a force in me
To search for my own exculpation
The way a dog subsidizes
Its household's decisions
In a world that is abjectly unfair
Imbued with free will
But forbidden from philosophy
To bring us into this world
Only to discharge us again
Inhuman and hence divine
This is how I know
God is a terrorist

An Offering

O Universe,
Here I am,
To service you and my fellows.
I offer devout service through myself as your instrument.
I open myself to creativity in my life
And surrender my old ideas in return for new.
I trust that you will unfold yourself before me,
That it is safe to walk,
That you will lead me.
I know I am your creation, a conduit for greater creativity.
I ask that you unfold my life accordingly.
Help me believe I am worthy and that it is not too late
That I am not too small or too flawed to be healed
By you and through each other -- and made whole again.
Help us love one another, to nurture each other's unfolding,
To encourage each other's growth,
And understand each other's fears.
Help us to know we are not alone,
That we are loved and lovable.
Help us to create as an act of worship to you.

Counterfeit

You can sustain the body
But when the soul flickers
When the soul is homesick for its nest
Away from this sensory coil
Our only consistency here is change and decay
I don't know where to find restoration
When I can't find rest, least of all in sleep where
My past will always find me
The fog and shadows played tricks
And outwitted my better judgment
Somehow I'm left with the counterfeit

Transitions: Two Hands

i reek of desperation
that's my prayer
a quiet whisper between two lips
through my skin and two hands pressed
for a life of peace without fear
without pain and without shame
to transition discretely
without unnecessary trauma
i'm so angry all the time now
and i haven't even started
so i ask dear goddex up there
to please help your lost lion
take the thorns from my paws
and lead me home to my pride
because i'm losing it down here
and i want to come home
send me soothing comfort
and your infinite patience
because im drowning in the way i feel

Artificial Elements

Used to hate my braces
but embraced them for making me closer
to a cyborg, for helping me approach singularity
And I was ready yesterday
Ready to be unable to distinguish
between what parts of me are organic and what are artificial
I'm ready to leave this body and exist on another plane,
be it celestial or artificial

Birthday Bruja

On the anniversary of their birth
In the throes of consciousness

Letters to an Ex-Lover Anthology: Unavoidable

Be sure that this prayer is inescapable

Understand that you messed with me
It's my turn to mess with you
You cannot avoid my craft

You will sit and listen quietly
You will consider and reflect
You will find strength to hold yourself culpable
You will find fortitude to apologize

Misfortune will forever dog your heels
Maleficence will bend you backwards
Misery will settle on your chest
And Death will always be near

You will not escape adversity
You will not escape tragedy
You will not escape tribulation and disappointment
You messed with a savage

I call on the energies of this earth
Hold him accountable
Teach him guilt and remorse
Bring him shame and dishonor

He shall not escape his crimes

Note to Self (Manifesting)

Never forget that you
Have the potential for infinite life
And the power to destroy all of it
You are the beginning and the end
You are the sun, moon and evening star
You are boundless energy in a system that seeks
To define the indefinable
You are Jewitch

Venefica

The will of the Church
to oppress, to accuse, to enact
the auto-de-fé.
An apocalyptic witchcraft
exemplified by wild nature,
a cipher for the bedevilled enemy.
Opposition is not just destroying
the mythic structure.
The Church gave man
nature to despoil.
The difficulty is one eye on the laws,
hair raising pronouncements,
misanthropy, foolish attack.
We live in a disenchanted world.
Fear us, the power of the witch
will not be disarmed.
Witchcraft, malefica, is the strong face
we show to this world.
Fight poison with poison.

1/22/2016
Found poem constructed from a section of the first chapter in Apocalyptic Witchcraft by Peter Grey

A Radical Act

Don't you see?
To love nature is an act of self love;
She can love us better than we can.

Bound

Two creatures tied together by their misery,
Too afraid to let go of what they know,
Too familiar with the other's moods;
     There's only a few.
One home made of anguish and torment,
One arbiter between the world and soul,
Won over only by the prospect of discomfort;
     There's only so many paths.

9/3/2015

Witch

I can feel my powers reawakening.

A Gracious Prayer

Oh universe. You are mercy and grace.
Though I am tried and tired,
you have found fit to spare me in this solitary moment,
granting me precious time to complete the tasks before me.

Lifted Eye

Let me fly
And admire
The glory
Of your
Marred landscape

Water Prayer

Feet above my head
The waves toss me like seaweed
Take me out to sea

Pakistani mulberries growing in the streets of Jerusalem.

Pakistani mulberries growing in the streets of Jerusalem.

Small gifts of sweetness enriching each journey.

The abundance of life ripe, hanging, awaiting to be plucked.

Alice's Haikus

If you had asked me
ten years ago whether I
would be here today,

I would act aloof
and maybe indignant too,
and I'd say, "Never there;"

And yet here I stand,
tending a secret garden,
chasing Caroll's dreams.

----------------------------------------
Sorry it's been such slow output.  I went from putting 125% of my energy into school straight into the garden.  It just happens to be 1:23 and I'm buzzed and listening to Kanye West.  So, you can imagine the state I'm in.  But in any case, what I wanted to say in this note is that I'm watching my poetry/style/subject material transform (albeit slowly, but transformation non-the-less).  It's scary and thrilling and mundane all at the same time.
Maybe I'll consider going to sleep now...who knows?  I certainly don't.