For the Sake of the Song

For the sake of the time
and for the sake of the song
and who ever is writing that thing

some times its you and sometimes its me

and sometime its a firestorm

or meeting an oasis in a desert

sometimes its water and sometimes its a heat

and too many questions isolate the tune

and we don’t deconstruct here
I made my haven and it’s a safe place

and l let that man stay with me

whenever he is tired
or just when he is free

below the wide sky and its witnessing eyes
it was just not being alone

and though it is just what it is

it is some kind of home

sometimes its fire and sometimes a drink

but too much wondering

isolates the tune
and we dont sing out of key
Someone opened the gate and let that horse run
and she did run free
and I ran all over his pasture

I guess there are different safe places to run to

when you just want to run or just want to be

but I kept myself

and left my pretenses

and when it rains we dance in it

and when its hot we find some shade

and when its cold

we make it warm

and if its warm

its just turns to a burn

no matter the wreck outside

or the view points on the causes
or who is counting the costs
or listing out the losses

but in all those definitions
in this haven someone is listening

and there are all kinds of places to run
when you just want to run free
but in the reduction to the baselines of what matter

when he opened the gate he ran with me
no more digging up roots in the garden
as God is my witness I would never go hungry again
and I wouldnt be sorry

and that witness saw the whole thing
in the haven I made
and the safe place where he laid
so for the sake of the song
and whoever is writing that thing

and for the sake of the time
I kept myself when I stepped outside

outside that gate and outside those lines

31487278-beautiful-running-horse-with-art-nouveau-style-long-mane--black-and-white-vector-design

Advertisements

Run

and She woke at some five in the morning
realizing the personal loss

Of 
those conversations that could never be had

with someone who would never understand

whether drunk or sober

heavy or light

angry or stable

left or right

in those tears of unwinding

And fierce cries in the night

From repressed visions

And liberated art shows for one man

whether plays of the sexes

or psychological unties

Boundaries we cross

Sounds of Breaking free

Sounds of Breaking time

Either way

She was never going to hear them again

so the mare stares at her old gateways
trying to decide

should she just run free alone

or go back to rails

and security

knowing those times and memories

will never be the forever

that set her free

he that opened her gate…man

he let her be
he set her free

then he left her alone
to tame her own fires

and be her own song

and she woke at some five in the morning
feeling that loss

and who would understand

except that type of woman

to that kind of man

and only the tears that cry for no reasons
running traces that burn

explanations that explain
but never learn

so the mare stares at her old gateways
trying to decide

whether to keep running

or to hide

To All the Men I’ve Loved

To all the men I’ve loved. Because love is a complex things and there are many different levels, or kinds of love.

To my father, my first love. Thank you for calling me a princess so I’ve never forgotten my place in the world. Thank you for passing on your genes of being hard headed and stubborn, which has gotten me far in this world as a single female. Thank you for making me paranoid, yes even that thing that many may fault their parents for, I thank you for making me paranoid about the intentions of men. I know for a fact it has kept me in check and superseded what could have been fatal attractions. Everyone has dad issues, or parent issues, but overall…you were one of the good ones. Even with your issues. I miss you.

To my Grandfather. The only Grandfather I knew. Thank you for your dramatic, impromptu and inappropriate humor. For your debonair suave. For your love of reading, which was passed on to my mother. For your switch turn anger that scared me to death as a child, yet I recognize in men now and wont tolerate. Thank you for doting on my grandmother and for epitomizing all that is great in young to old sweethearts. Thank you for demonstrating  in your family, the art of gifting. Miss you, Grandaddy.

To my favorite uncles on both sides of the family. To my uncle on my dads side, with your righteous anger that actually was wholeheartedly unrighteous and I would never have actually agreed with you on, man you had tenacity. Thanks for being proactive in researching genealogy, I’m inspired to do that with the other side of the family. I always admired the nieces that came from you, who led their lives in such a strong manner. You may have had your angering prejudices. Your biases and weaknesses to and for the opposite sex, but to me you were a veteran and older bad boy of the family. Maybe the archetype of men I loved in the future. And your carpentry skills, why don’t men create anymore? I miss you too.

To my favorite uncle on my mothers side, my uncle who played with me as a toddler, under tables. Who did magic tricks with me and my brothers until we were old enough to know better but you made it so convincing, thanks for always being magical. For being cool and for being the humble favorite. I’m forever scarred and ruined by men with motor oil under their fingers…Who love to get in engines and see how they work. Who can fix the car or tell you whats wrong with it. Yeah, I see you in everyday mechanics. Whenever I see them.
 

To my second Uncle on my mothers side. Thanks for caring enough to tell the truth. Because you know you are right. Because you know the facts. Because you love to research. Because you care. Thanks for being suspicious and inquisitive. Thanks for making me question everything.

You two are the standard I hold all men to.

To my ex husband. You got me at a very green age. You were older and seemed so much more experienced and educated. You weren’t. You just seemed that way. Ultimately you were just as green as I. You taught me to be tougher than I should have had to be, You taught me to see when I was being lied to. You taught me to spot an insecure man, who despite being talented, would never allow himself to reach very far. You taught me to take what all the other men had taught me and use it. I had to, in order to mentally survive you. I may be fifty percent of why we failed, but I don’t miss you.

To my pastor and stepfather. Thank you for showing me that there are educated men who admire women physically and mentally. Who want their partners to excel in life and succeed in their dreams. Thank you for the counseling and advice, and guidance. I may not be getting my Masters if it were not for you.

To my best friend. Thanks for proving that yes, a woman can sleep in the room next to a man a that man not try to jump her bones. Thank you for being present and willing to help in so many situations. Thank you for seeing me at my worst. Thank you for the willingness to attempt to be a balanced view point. At your worst and your best you have always been consistent. I owe my best self to you. One day I might be able to give that.

Lastly…
To the man who saw what no one else would call out. The lover to the wild in me, thank you for giving me the space to run free. Thank you for making me speak my own thoughts and teaching me how to articulate my own mind and need. Thank you for letting me in your world and for coming into mine. Thank you for honoring our disagreements and for touching me so deeply. There is nothing I will ever write that I cannot thank you for. Because you were the first man to call me a writer. I love you, I miss you. Thank you ..
Thank you all.

menshands

 

Thank You

To the man who heard my voice

and let me in his world

Thank you

For the late nights

talking about nothing but everything

and all those lines

all those lines in between

Thank You

In this world of definitions

about whats real or beneficial

baby you were real and beneficial to me

for all the involvement and authenticity

for saying your own thank you

when it wasn’t necessary

for all the grateful times

thank you
for letting me unwind

after small disasters in my life

thank you

for just letting me in
giving time sensitive advice

from a fully lived life

thank you

for the love and muchness

that was ours in our moments

thank you

for allowing this creative woman
to be creative
and act out in rare forms
outside the box

and outside the world

Thank you

for always thanking me for being me

Thank you
Thank you for being my friend
being a kind of lover
and being a man

 

When I was in California

I got some sun in California

for a day or so
and I thought man, is this the same sun that shines every where else?

I was out in wine country and sitting under the big western sky
and thought man are these the same stars that poke through every one else’s night?

This is what I’ve been missing

and it’s interesting the perceptions we have about places

and people and their spaces

the breath of the grapes and their dirt

the openness of the sky

and the dryness in the air

makes you come alive

and then the tourist traps selling their tourist crap

from places where history was made

here get your Alcatrez magnet

I saw my lover in California
or maybe California is part my lover

those wide open thought spaces

stars in his eyes

and dry like the warm heat of the sun
and the breath of the life in the dirt

that feeds the grapes that I drink by the bottle

a high kind of buzz

its the same kind of thing

baby gets his own set of mindless tourism

but please no magnets from Alcatrez

Fell in to California
or California just kept part of me

either way I met my lover in California

or California part was my lover

11219526_10153795294616812_2314261190829632253_n

Born Male

Men in the desert
white privelaged racist

men on wall street
with their white privelaged money
women play victim and suffer

and march and cry and make a lot of money
at the expense of some white privelaged male

and the guity men keep repenting

for the sin of how they were born

can’t change who you are

but you can sure pay for it

pay for it all your life

Riots and rebellion

and disregard for life

trashed respnsibility
its no ones fault really

unless you are a privelaged male unseen
hey you werent even around
but that is what they believe
and the guilty men keep repenting
for the sin of being born male

cant help it baby
but you can change the world

and no matter how much you change it

and no matter how much you pay

you are still gonna be a privelaged male

maybe one day it wont be this way
cant pay your way out

cant give enough to charity

cant give enough to the right party

and weild enough anger for the all the different rights out there

there are still too many of you takin up too much space

white privelaged male

he shaves down the parts of himself
injects some silicone

and airbrushes himself to an illusion

making himself smaller

pays a lot of money and walks a little taller

in America you can be whatever you want
for the right price and sympathy
no one will tell you truth
in all this madness and rhetorical abuse
they hate men unless they act like women

and they hate women if they act like themselves
so lets make a whole a new distraction and pretend
and some pretends you cant walk away from

and no one dares say he is white privelaged male
maybe that only sometimes applies

sometimes when it’s necessary
to drown out questions
and project political lies

but no matter how you hack it baby

you can’t change who you are
but you can pay for it
guess you’ll be paying you whole life