In everything (poem)

Maybe missing

but I know what love feels like now.

It is infinitely tender, threading, interlocking, release

It is wiser than we are

It already knows

without question-

 

true to everything.

 

It is only interrupted;

It can never be contained.

it seeps out of me when I am not looking

and into the heart of everything

lf191107

Incredibly Unincredible (poem/ thought)

But now and then, and once for a long while,

the right one pulled me in close,

I’ve made so many mistakes

it’s incredible as many amazing things have happened as they have.

To have been so blessed

as to feel bliss w/ someone

even for a while feels such a gift.

Maybe I was bound to mess it up

with my worry, my intensity, my perfectionism

which make most feel separate from me.

But now and then, and once for a long while,

the right one pulled me in close, tingled my skin

& the heart of my depth and my truth;

brushed up against me,

a comfort beyond words.

But I couldn’t sustain,

even though I wished to,

maybe because I wished to.

I pushed it, and questioned it;

by trying to form it,

killed it

with unnecessary need and

unincredible words.

190918 lf

Petty (poem)

Time to return

to fully enhabiting myself.

To feel intensely had drifted

We had lost our charm

through petty words & actions

Sometimes we forgot

the daily wonderful,

the gift love is,

silent acceptance.

But the core remains

solid & aware

as it was in the beginning,

is now

and ever shall be

 

 

Appetizer: Spread: Hemp hearts, chipotle & sour cream

Served w/ sliced cucumbers.

I did a second batch: version two

This time I used:

Sr Crm

Hemp Hearts

Chipoltle

Minced Garlic

& a little honey

and served it with carrots and broccoli.

I almost made a third round, but I didn’t.

 

Memory wonders (poem)

Bones are carved, fat is stacked and people lean on what is there to support them

Keeper of the backbeat

Sometimes it feels there are only the surroundings that form

nothing sticks yet nothing passes, nothing to touch which is known to be my own

no sincere smiles meant to enliven

bones are carved, fat is stacked and people lean on what is there to support them

the blood runs circuitous and forgetful of it’s force and import

the brain strolls and scrambles, scratches at murmurs of past facts and future functions

there is little use to what’s been done and more often than not none of the millions of actions enacted serve more than a revolving process

Retreat in expression, for there are no receivers in sight

Memory wonders if it’s ever seen that which it wishes were whole the world over