Wednesday, April 20, 2011


The white blossoms now, remind me of last year's blow of flowers.  

April 10, 2010

I miss her most in the glow of morning
Her warmth now somewhere else
I could kiss her until my lips fell off
But they have nowhere to fall
Her beauty becomes the air
Her air becomes my breath
And I breathe in her absence
Until I also become absent
Until I also drive love to my grave
To keep myself warm in my death
My love will settle over my skin
Until my skin is gone
And my love will settle the dirt
As a hush, a caress, a fertile glow
In the mornings that I am gone

Pepe, my heart has water in it
Heavy from my heat
I find it interesting to stay calm
And to look at the soft lines
To look at the blur and fuzz
Of newborn leaves
Perspiring their blossoms to the street
Some flew through my window
New confetti turns to old confetti
And the welcomed gift of life through my window
Caught my attention in its streaming hands
Snowing empty faces past my sill
To softer places than the street
But they don’t belong where they won’t disintegrate
They don’t belong to me
And now I’m in charge of these friendly faces
That are dying on colored wool
Running their last white lives
On my natural floor
Oh the faces, I don’t know if they are turned up
Or turned down
They won’t look at me
The shy petals of 58th Street

Pepe, sometimes you wouldn’t look at me either
Your tiny little head so attached
Laying in your turkey position, tucked
Little black wrists so limp
You’d keep it all to yourself
Contained in your cuteness
Pushed behind your nugget nose
Sparking your spine in gentle black
You moved me
And I’d sway as the branches next door
Lit up in the explosion of spirits
Laughing in the silence of love
Doubling over in a crowded heart
Exalted in the freedom of you
Cutie pie
You’d make me jump
Much higher than your poking hairs
Higher than those few oily ones
On your spine, poking
God, they’d poke me in a comfort I can’t explain
They pet me like the tree across pet me
And it was always a surprise
I still see you Chou Chou
But I don’t have enough of you for the rest of my life
Little girl, what do I do?
Look at me then.  Keep looking at me
From your invisibility
Maybe now you will look at me

You are my shy petal
And I won’t dismiss the littlest gifts
Little fits
Of joy
Returning static to the whispering sun
A lift a release I am you we are one

Chou Chou?
Are you looking at me?
Then I will place you in me
It’s the only thing I can think to do
I am going to tuck you in to my fluttering soul
You in your turkey position, tucked
It’s easy that way
And I will hold you dear
Maybe love myself more if you are in me
I will I do I now cradle you
In my name

They’ll read about us in the papers, Pep
Cat Found Inside Woman
We’ll be famous for a little while
I hope you can handle that
We’ll be known for a little while
Until they forget about us
But I promise you I will never forget you
It would be like forgetting myself
Little girl, we are one

E. Kelly's Spiritual Journey on Live courageously:

"Our anxieties and fears come from our own refusal to live what we really believe in the depths of our soul.  Fears are an inner nonalignment."

Saturday, April 16, 2011

soul surgery

They’re the Hitler butlers burying the bird
Trying to
And wanting to
Be Accepted
And Wanted
To remember the freestyle way of
Knowing that bird
If that bird ever did exist
On the valence
Of our eyes
Or perhaps in our hearts
If our hearts were ever theirs

So they’d feel their sweat if they ever did
In sudden
Of the Life
And Loss
To sense a flow and somewhat flushing
Of themselves
If they really did exist
Before the mirror
Beyond their risks
Because they never knew
If their souls were theirs to sew


E. Kelly's Spiritual Journey on Live Courageously:

"One of the most helpful things for you to do is face the things you fear the most.  If you fear death the most, face it.  If it is illness, if it is becoming helpless, concentrate on it and face it, and realize all the things you still could do if these things happened.  Concentrate on the reality that death is but a transition.  Once you face these fears, they become insignificant, and you can continue living.  True living is practicing the presence of God."

Friday, April 8, 2011

red with truth

My heart bangs inside of my cage.  I feel it pushing my ribs with each thud – explosions of embarrassment like bombs of shame and wanting.  Wanting to not be here.  Wanting him.  And mostly, wanting to be myself.  I can’t believe my heart – if it had a microphone, the room would shake its walls, the kitchen would shatter its glasses and the three in the room would laugh: Silver with the hysteria of exposure, red with truth, the other two in wondrous curiosity how a pang could pang so hard.  Crashes of crystal and wall-dust on his Japanese antiques would stop K in the tracks of laughter, and the Other – the Other – would always keep an abbreviated laugh.  Witness: this is not love…this is reactionary of my haunted ego and bruised feelings, standing worlds apart from who I am.  A senseless self persecution, beats of desire, beating, BEATING inside my cage.  This earthquake couldn’t be happening.  I was a fighting bird fighting myself, flying into the fury of survival, of psychological torture and embarrassment.  Look, my chest, the ribs, a xylophone to harass.  Flip me face down so you don’t see my heart pop.  Pop. Pop.  A disgrace to my dignity – he even looked ugly, not only in his physique but in his selfish soul.  Looking like Rocky Balboa, the puffy hair, the shorts, double shirt with cutoff sleeves…with an air of arrogance as always.  Coming over to kiss me hello, Rocky apologized for not returning an email I’d sent him: an invite to yet another soirée.  “It’s OK.”  Silver Lies couldn’t capture a moment; she always gave them away to the quickest answer. 

Thinking of the Love she didn't invite: I would have invited you but I didn't think you'd like the crowd.  They were all human.  Not like you and me.

Lego Man

E. Kelly's Spiritual Journey on I promise you: A discourse:

“Much of what affects us is invisible.  There are great energies within us and without.  Some can be used; others must be endured.

There are energies thrusting through space, going through us like a sieve.  The theory of astrology is that wherever matter rotates in space it throws off patterns of energy contained in ions.  These travel through space and penetrate our atmosphere and physical bodies.  Sometimes energies meet and catch in a pattern.  At those times there is enormous stress in that area.  It can manifest sometimes in rashes of public behavior – rebellions, assassinations and so on, outward evidence of inward stress, affecting individual and group energy patterns.  Sometimes there is nothing we can do about it except keep our balance and inner peace.

Sometimes we are acting of our own free will.  At other times we are responding to those energies.  People live in a very closed context, and what may seem whim or chance is locked.  We are integral parts of the universe.  This should teach us not to impose ourselves on others.”