Who’s Winning?

“…love was as hardwired into the structure of the universe as gravity and matter.”
– Dan Simmons, The Rise of Endymion

one-ocean

For my own contribution to the pretentiousness of celebrating Saint Beheaded for my Defiance of a Medieval Catholic Pope’s Marriage LawsValentine’s Day, I wanted to simply share my own notions behind LOVE and the definition that I personally carry of it; for anyone who may be interested…
Love is not knowing, but jumping in anyway.
Love is the feeling of stitches dissolving in your skin.
Love is the smile of an innocent child in the grips of wonder.
Love is a giant, canine bearing sea-lion being afraid of you.
Love is sunshine.
Love is an all-encompassing acceptance that changes your DNA.
Love is hoping against all logic or reason.
Love is being the first face to come into view, every time.
Love can be tangible.
Love can be fickle.
Love can bring us to our knees, in many different variances.
Love will NEVER leave us alone.
Love is darkness.
Love is light.
Love is the answer as well as the question in languages that humanity does not yet speak.
Love may be a language that humanity as we know it never learns.
Love was the mother of all Hatred.
Love is the force behind all of it, everything.
Love bore Mother Earth, the Sun, and every star.
Love is God. God is a Goddess. The Goddess falls back in Love.
Love can conquer all.
Love doesn’t necessarily want to conquer all.
And lastly,
When I didn’t love Love, it loved Me, Anyway.

Bent.

I am the face blended in on the train –
with open wounds bleeding blame and shame –
I am the darkness that protects the light –
blinded by a goal in sight –
I am the reasons why I hate myself –
just me to blame and nobody else –
I am the hatred in the moments alone –
when the place is quiet and nobody’s home –
I am the purpose that drives so many vessels on fire –
I am the face of the weary and tired–
I am not satisfied with the way things have become –
I am not going to accept what you’ve done –
I am the one who meant each word I said –
I am the one that you lied to instead –
I am the one who is sullen and down –
I am the reason none of my friends come around –
I am the cause of all things tragic –
I can make people disappear from my Life like Magic – 
I am the cultivator of this poisonous place –
I am afraid of my own body and face –
I cannot tell which creatures won’t bite –
I will eventually resign to this fight –
I am convinced that I’m better off without –
I am aware of what they’re all talking about –
I am the one who tied the original knot –
I guess that that’s a detail that each one forgot –
I am not filled with any cold from the snow–
I have mastered that defense system, you know –
I am a human fucking being –
I have a heart that pumps and bleeds –
I am not interested in dramatics and games –
be decent to me, and I’ll treat you the same.

Dark Heart of Me.

I have these dawning moments when:
everything around me tightly closes in
tunneled down by a tornado’s spin –
and at end of the tunnel –
lies the booming realization;
I have these dulled down memories:
so very many once meaningful things
carved, imparted on the dark heart of me –
but I have let them fade away –
no new recollections to retrieve;
I know of some of the sacred divinities:
many of the Elders have shown me things;
drawn like a map midst the Mysteries –
however, any mystery is gone –
what fills its place, tastes despicably;
I live midst a sense of danger and doom:
like a shadow cast down by a permanent gloom
no matter where I go, it’s with me in the room –
it’s impeded upon and seeded a part of me –
not likely to change back again anytime soon;
I display a die-hard tendency:
hardens the hardness of the people I see;
deepens the darkness of the world around me –
 yet, I lead all the horses down to water –
and wait there until each one drinks;
I am modified by the things that I’ve survived:
skin on my body from cells that weren’t mine;
ears pinned to my head for a while, like Frankenstein –
these things were never easy on me –
but they’ve sure made me feel alive.
I try my best to remember to look ahead:
to not get myself tangled in the ‘said and done’ web
not to worry about what he or she might have said –
no matter what anyone will try to contrive –
we’re each just another day closer to ending up dead.

Sledgehammer.

Like a bus

that couldn’t stop,

its driver, legs locked-

board-straight,

baring down-

the desperate weight,

the failing of brakes;

beneath heavy feet,

where the tires

touch street

screeching, scraping

metal shavings

but, all forsaking

can’t quite stop

in time not to

run right over me.

The Sledgehammer swings,

it’s wielder, well-meaning-

momentous force-

impact to the chest

sets into course,

broken by the best

of darkness creeping

right in through

my own big mouth.

Tread In Shadow.

Where have you been hiding
for these days of mine passed by?
which demons were you fighting
when I asked you for the time?
what goes on inside your head
while your hand unzips my fly?
which memories come back to you
when your breath becomes a sigh?
do you still think that True Heaven
is a place in between my thighs?
have you forgotten how you left me
and never bothered to tell me why?
does your betrayal and embitterment
shine right through the blue in my eyes?
are you aware of the pain in the air
multiplied by moments that drip-dry?
do you know that I’m empty without you?
the skeletal remains of a burial site;
and, though I am forsaken in darkness
I tread in shadow and by moonlight.

Awakening Giants.

A rhythmic, rainy day
Live Oaks swaying;
of wind-blown,
dark-tarnished
antique cutlery,
spoons hung from forks
to a sun-porch –
by disintegrating
fishing string;
the fog clings
a smoldering fire’s
taunting smile;
a veil of mystery
suspending
everything for miles;
thunder rolls –
the molasses-slow
awakening
the Giants
from the Isles;
It’s a well-planned
last stand, tea party,
we priestesses sit,
card-tabled by
light mahogany –
a séance to the dead
and a curse for the living.

Growly Monster.

There’s something dark that stays with me;
ever-present within, and threatening;
at least two blatant steps ahead,
of the slippery tread,
that I beat.
Can’t get away from its angry, clenched teeth;
or the burning inside of my chest cavity;
cerebral pounding in my head,
the growly monster under bed,
please, shoot me.
A shadow that laughs as it follows my feet;
at my dwindling sense of any real thing;
eyes that paint everything red,
a body, gone brain-dead,
just finish me.