Friday, June 16, 2017

The Frame

I know that if we had just grown up together with someone who knew how to frame us, we would have beautiful compositions of our bodies together. My legs elongated around you, with just the right amount of sun kissed hue. Our faces lit by the dimmest of candle light. Our teeth as white as paper. How rapturous it must be to have flawless documentation of moments spent together, the pose almost meaning more than the experience itself. The angle. The crop. The backdrop. Just right.

But we grew up capturing the blurry instant that had no filter. Our bad wardrobe decisions, cratered faces and wooded-lots bare for everyone to see. Maybe no physical documentation exists for those moments. Did they even happen?

I'm sure that the feature of our faces could look proper with professional direction. The height of my heels would be perfect. The fold of your suit, superb. The artist would know just where to place the contrast and bump up the shadow to make us look otherworldly, the most in love. 

Friday, February 24, 2017


There are a few mountains in orbit around me who think they can land whenever they chose. They lay claims to my beating heart and the breath that fills my lungs. They purchase the skin that holds my ribs and stake a flag on my thighs. They hover and touch down, kicking up the dust of my memories and scattering the papers of experience all about my runways. I'm usually left, standing bare, in the middle with disheveled and dry hair, thirsty for any liquid and wondering how I got caught up in someone else's air. The vortex of a few words snaps me up violently and acutely.  I am theirs during the exchange.

Friday, January 6, 2017

Current Realizations

The virtual exchanges were all initiated by me, I realize now. Those quick, fast hearted chats and emails were all I had to keep my blood pumping in those days. You came back, though, a few months later after my will had perished, to tell me you were having a beer downstairs and to join. Your terms.  I am sustained by your distant longing, enveloping every bend of my legs and arms. It braces my regular movements and insulates me. My buffer, the transcendant and irreplaceable first magick light. 

Wednesday, November 9, 2016


Amidst my own positive messages of self healing and encouraging those closest to me to keep in the light, underneath it all is a subterranean sadness I feel for the American people. We are all a people of color. Where boys can paint on their eyebrows and ladies grow beards. We blend genders, races, ethnicities, ideals, values, religions, music, messages, and identities with the underlying message that we are all worthy of living on this sacred Earth. There is a place here for everyone, even as we seek to forgive those who voted in hatred to our highest office. May we surround them with light as we seek to destroy their limited view of our worthiness. May we sharpen our intuition to offer guidance to our young. May we rise up in mindful revolt to reject the narrow minded. And in our rejection, may we offer them healing as they have been wronged, too, so deeply by our capitalist and greedy society. Today, play patty-cake with a grown adult, look into their face and notice the beautiful color of their eyes. The Divine is here, within us. Let us glow together. 

Friday, June 3, 2016

Harvard; I want you

I have listened to the Harvard School of Education 2016 spoken word graduation speech only once. It was on an airplane back from New York. The plane was bigger than the usual one and I had the row to myself. I was later thankful for that because I enjoyed my chill bumps and tears privately as I watched him speak. For now, I cannot remember is name.

I reply back to him:

We exchange energy when we educate. Learning is a human business; a social art. It's not content work it's context work. Schools are institutions both spiritual and scholastic. I do not know how to disconnect the two. As teacher and student come together in the cosmic dance, gravity is there, but so are the individual masses of the knowledge both humans hold close. The electricity is allowed as both adult and child are free to open their currents to each other. Sure, there may be spark. Sure, there may be light. But more importantly there is connection and exchange in truly informative interactions. Teachable moments are transformative and they are conductors transferring the heat of knowledge to anyone within proximity.