Friday 24 February 2017

Call Me A Millennial

"Lost,"
you called me.
I fought back.

A double life in more than two ways,
shoulders from the weight,
from the climb to nowhere of my
I-can-do-anything dreams
to the unknown,
a symbol
for life in transit.
Another sunset a different pillow
another sunrise a different direction.
some call it wonder lost
some call it wander lust
I wonder and I wander
in lost
in love.

To be tired is in vogue
a racing heart is the way of the world,
so why not chase the pulse
and follow the firing of my neurons,
enlightened by new pathways,
stronger when they're followed,
a pattern of the untraceable
a system of change swifter than we evolve.
A culture of the mutt that I am
searching for the past
unraveling the future
resting when I realize breaks are resistance,
pausing is counterculture,
and I want to be different sometimes.
Lost is found.

Call me a millennial.
Love me or leave me,
because I've learned that 
love stays
     before it's time,
     or when it's time to.
I don't always have a say
so I might as well go with the flow
while carving my way,
call me a millennial.
Call me for what I am
and I'll resist your label -
a gift to my generation -
wanting to be known while rejecting it.
Call me for what I am.
"Lost."
I cringe. I cry. I smirk...
"Lost..."

I put roots down and found home
until I awoke to my branches as metaphor,
and the trees reminded me
that my feet weren't meant
to stay stuck in the mud trying to grow,
so I moved, move to find power
not in the depth of my footprint
but in what the ground where I step whispers to me about that place
where we meet where my feet dance here or there,
settling is not nature, but being 
earthy and elemental yes!
I am a nester and a nestee and nests move with the seasons -
redefine lost.

Lost is where our eyes are open,
because there they have to be.
Lost is where we pay attention.
Lost is where we find us.
Lost is where we find self.
Lost is where we hold on.
Lost is where we let go.
Lost is where we reach out.
Lost is where we reach in.
Lost is where religion loosens.
Lost is where the mystery is the magic we need.
Lost in me,
I am found.

"Lost,"
you called me.
I fought back
Because I have a secret,
lost is found.
Call me a millennial.

Now,
another sunset a different pillow,
hold me.



Wednesday 8 February 2017

Growing Pains

all this shadow,
addicting.

the abyss,
a freedom in the ride of feeling
on the edge of pushing fear.
emotion junkie.

my shadow side
indulged. by you.

where i find you
we exist in the dark
meaningless,
here i meet you.

zero fucks given,
a lie told every time we do...
in between sips of wine, twist of fate
facing our faces
and our fears.

primal divinity of our
nature and our nurture
meaningless miracles...
let's wrestle
through it.

honest in the the glow of
honey candles
and a string of lights...
love in a moment
trying to contain the blood
but heart bleeding past the brain
onto the pages of morning light...
love in a moment
something more but now
is all there is.
a moment of shadow.

a season shared
shadow seasons
seasons end, right?

shadow side,
exploring
exposed to the light.
let me look in your corners
let me know the child inside
the fears, the soul's secrets
the core in honest

the illuminating dark
all this shadow
repression released reveals.
we, we play. in the abyss we've been told to resist
we, the fire lit. exposed in the dance of contrast
we, the shadows. little fires, they are warm.
me, my growing pain.

seasons end, right?

me, my growing pain.