my father
told me once
to turn my anger
into positive action,
and i struggled
to find the honorable ways
to affect change.
i asked him later
what he meant
and he told me
never to do anything
without love
in my heart,
and suddenly,
it all made sense.

he says

he says i am punk rock
and Emily Dickinson
and that the combination
renders him incapable
of anything but wild love.

a new religion

bend me into prayerfulness;

for the blessings in my life,
i know not how
or to whom
i should express my gratitude.

i used to pray to a god
who made the earth
in seven days.
i surrendered to him my sins,
and i learned to repent,
and all of my thankfulness
i gave to him.

i later,
wrought with questions,
began a quest deep within
and have come out
with fingers painted
in world religions that claim
they do not mix.

i want only
to bow down
and to kiss the ground,
but until i know at whose feet
i should kneel,
my prayers will be in kindness
and my kindness,
i give to you.

a blessing

it is friday night,
and as i sit in bed,
listening to the clicking of keys
beneath my fingers
and the last stammers
of a thunderstorm,
i realize
i am blessed to feel as if
this space
is warmed
by an always-lit fireplace.
it is one apartment
out of two-hundred and thirty;
its construction
is similar - if not identical -
to the two hundred
and twenty-nine others,
but within these walls
lives magic.
the oven heats to four-hundred
and fifty degrees.
he kneads the dough.
we sip wine,
and i watch as father and son
talk through glances
and debate
and laugh.

their love is so beautiful.

i am overwhelmed
with the blessing
of being part
of the putting together
of dinner,
and as we sit down to eat,
i know
i am home.

She is proud, she is struggling with herself; but kind, charming, generous.

Fyodor Dostoevsky, from The Brothers Karamazov    (via everybodyphoto)

(Source: violentwavesofemotion, via a-peapod)

heart and soul

i am a wild woman,
with emotions strung
like party steamers
and whims running rampant
through the manicured lawns
and filing cabinets
that are my brain.

i am a delicious afternoon mid-week,
an indulgence in
the soul fattening qualities
of a heavy-bellied laugh
or a make-out session
during lunch break
with no remorse.

i am the national anthem,
a melody you know backwards
that forgives you
when you forget the words.

i am blades of grass
after a summer storm
with growing pains at my tips
as i reach for the sun
or ache for the quick
cracking of my back
under bare-footed children.

i am quenched thirst
after a hectic week at work,
a vodka-lemonade
or black and tan,
as the heat of a bonfire prickles
at my shins
and warms me,
heart and soul.

may peace be with you

and then i realized
as the sun did break
this morning in august,
it revealed a world reborn
and brought me peace.

on accidentally falling in love

it is not
that i tried
(because to try
an effort expelled)
to fall in love with you;
it is just that
i met you,
and my heart
could no longer beat
without doing so.

If you love two people at the same time, choose the second. Because if you really loved the first one, you wouldn’t have fallen for the second.

― Johnny Depp (via emmysafari)

pulling back the masks

i wish i could say
that i don’t remember
the before you
time in my life,
but if i did not remember,
i believe you would not
be mine.
our lives before each other
led us exactly
into each other’s arms,
and the before
detailed our reasons
why it was in
each other’s arms
we chose to stay.

There is something infantile in the presumption that somebody else has a responsibility to give your life meaning and point… The truly adult view, by contrast, is that our life is as meaningful, as full and as wonderful, as we choose to make it.

Richard Dawkins, The God Delusion (via quotes-shape-us)

my heart says GO

my heart
knows so much
and so little
at once.
do i trust
her desires,
believing that
is for living,
or do i stifle her
and avoid
what might be
a mistake?

missing pieces

i feel as if i was a puzzle,
completed, but then
i was shaken up,
and dislodged
from the pieces
i so long searched for.

every day since then,
a handful disappears.

i can’t decide
whether to
put together
what is left of me,
or to accept my loss
and begin anew.

doors closed

i have dreamed
of elevators
for two nights
in a row.

one night,
the cables stretched
and snapped and
left me suspended
by a thread.
the other brought me
again and again
to the wrong floor.

i’m told this means
that i am both stuck
and that i don’t know
where i’m going.

for some reason,
my dreams
keep repeating
things i already know.