apologies

apologies
yeah
i make em
minimizing
my reactions
disengaging
my feelings
from my actions.
apologies
you accept them
letting me bow down
kiss your feet
as you stomp
on the burden
i bare
i give away
my rights
human being
perfection
another myth
i put faith in.
your apology
i despise
a sacrificial
excuse
a frame
for abuse
yet I persist
in engaging
in the exchanging
of this
divisive mora
timid tone
not my own
an adaptation
crucified
by conditioning
and second guessed
estimates
tears of shame
pour onto
ice
indecision
renders
infection
a price
i pay
with passive
aggressive
currency
the energy
from foreign
entities
a likeness
a loveliness
a ridiculed
resistance
to authenticity
anxiously awaiting
acceptance
ego takes
the gift
and uses it
for resentment
cycle
circle
system
induced
a birth
a soul
reduced
to sorry

2.20.09
me

lovesong

sing me a field I can run thru
build me a bicycle for all
blaze trails that bridge humanity
let the goshawks hear our call

breathe the air, strong and distant
that fuels the flame of the wise
fly to the edge of a cliche
scream visions to the sunrise

run alongside the wolf pups
reflect on the wooded hue
ring the bell of redemption
exposed by the morning dew

perfect the vision of love
push thru conflicted bounds
make instuments of insult
and peace your only sound

us...11/22/09

Salty Aftertaste

Twenty days later
I sing with loss.
A quick toss
to the wind
and like the salt
of my many tears
held inside,
I ride the wave
of the breeze
and hope for
a landing
in the promised land.
By whom
I cannot define,
nor resign to
believe.
I know the swine
may reap this
burried treasure.
A pleasure
so hidden,
even the wind
has no clarity.
Still I travel.
I learn of love
from centures
and ventures
unlike my own.
And in my zone
I weep for you.
Heat and dew
entrench me.
A wretch.
I catch a glimpse
of paradise
and like Moses,
I am led away
with intended
Shame.

Nameless.

I believe that
heaven
must not house
leaders.
Only sheep
find solice
from their
eternal suffering
there.

The sheperds
and the ravens
take flight,
beyond the sight
of desert shores.
The extraordinary
greets us with
open arms.
Piercings with charms,
rainbows, farms and
indiginous masses
swim the streets
of Dharamsala.
The celebration
ongoing.
A still
knowing
settles us all.
We are awake.

2/20/10 me

Tea Party

As the term passed over my head, I drowned in a sea of innadequacy. If I were to read, instead of check Facebook statuses...Had I created a time for The New York Times and I to share coffee...In the event that I hope to discuss the pending actions of our elected officials with one of the hottest men I have ever met, then perhaps I should CHANGE.

Barrack Obama cannot be our poster child for change. We must embrace the change. I must make changes relevant to the life I desire. A lack of desire is exactly as it sounds...dead. I am alive and creative. Therefore, I must be the change I wish to see in the world. Blah, blah, blah! What does that mean?

I posed the question aloud and within my "brushfire" starter soul..."How can I reach those who may want similar change?" "Where do people like me...the under-educated, slightly politically active, largely opinionated minority spend their time?" And, "What motivates us?"

As I crawl thru this subject, like a reluctant spelunker slides thru a space with less than two inches of room for lung expansion and more than four gallons of water pouring thru it per second, I relate to the balls-out manner in which this decision must take place, ie. FAST and FURIOUS! Just DO it! Go for it. Be aggressive B - E - Aggressive. B.E.A.GG. RrrE.SS.I.V.E! An Extreme Freedom Sport moment...Go BIG or Go HOME!
So, here I am. Blog started...check. Topic chosen...check. Find audience and FREAK them out so they act...??? Next.

When I asked my friend, the very hot, politically saavy man crush how he thought people could be reached, he simply opened my eyes to the "spend one half hour per day reading The New York Times gig." So there is where I continue this journey.

Aloha.