The Shades of Missing You. {excerpt}
You loved how I growled because I kept them away from us. Until I crumbled alone. Until I bit. Until you bled. Losing you taught me the fragility of trust.
Browsing Category:
poetry
Passage of Pieces: We Sewed with Our Words. {poetry}
I asked him how he perceived the beauty of creation from his place of darkness. With few words, he showed me that light can exist as much within as without.
All Roads End, Even Circular Ones. {poetry}
She would turn to him and say, "Goodbye, my lover of many lifetimes. Now I must take another road." And she was gone. All roads end.
Can We Meet Each Other Fully in Our Love? {poetry}
Can you meet me here with love? Will you be afraid? Will you open yourself with truth and walk the path to my heart which I have laid bare for you?
An Infinity of Now in All Space and All Time. {poetry}
Now is a moment richly endowed with the sum total of all of the nows entangled in the quantum expanse that is an infinity of now in all space and time.
Do You Not Wish to Enter Your Dark Forest? {poetry}
Wish you not to celebrate it? To be purified, baptized by your own most sacred pains, having made a halo with bloody hands?
So Many Beautiful Words. {poetry}
It is so dark inside my head. I can’t see. I pretend, I speak, I look, I live, wrestling those words. One foot on their throat, but begging for their mercy.
Everything Is Missing, Dad, Including You. {poetry}
Dad saw himself as disabled, and in some ways he was. He was an emotional cripple, that’s for sure. He flew into rages over nothing.
The Last Communist I Knew. {poetry}
The last communist I knew was my professor, an Italian from Calabria, who invited us
over for chess. He gulped wine and crawled around his kitchen floor.
Where Am I When She Calls? {poetry}
Where am I when my mother finds my father on the kitchen floor? Why does this girl with her face painted white want me to kiss her clean?
!["You must have a room, or a certain hour or so a day, where you don’t know what was in the newspapers that morning, you don’t know who your friends are, you don’t know what you owe anybody, you don’t know what anybody owes to you. This is a place where you can simply experience and bring forth what you are and what you might be. This is the place of creative incubation. At first you may find that nothing happens there. But if you have a sacred place and use it, something eventually will happen. […]
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Our life has become so economic and practical in its orientation that, as you get older, the claims of the moment upon you are so great, you hardly know where the hell you are, or what it is you intended. You are always doing something that is required of you. Where is your bliss station? You have to try to find it." #JosephCampbell #RebelleSociety
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Happy Monday, Rebel! What's your bliss station today? ❤](http://scontent-dfw5-2.cdninstagram.com/v/t51.2885-15/sh0.08/e35/s640x640/80006255_3335064936520499_8943008855071934994_n.jpg?_nc_ht=scontent-dfw5-2.cdninstagram.com&_nc_cat=111&_nc_ohc=mHjpsv3EfmUAX9o4BE3&oh=6a2950f2231dbea35770d7d8cc174c00&oe=5EC9FE28 "\"You must have a room, or a certain hour or so a day, where you don’t know what was in the newspapers that morning, you don’t know who your friends are, you don’t know what you owe anybody, you don’t know what anybody owes to you. This is a place where you can simply experience and bring forth what you are and what you might be. This is the place of creative incubation. At first you may find that nothing happens there. But if you have a sacred place and use it, something eventually will happen. […]
_
Our life has become so economic and practical in its orientation that, as you get older, the claims of the moment upon you are so great, you hardly know where the hell you are, or what it is you intended. You are always doing something that is required of you. Where is your bliss station? You have to try to find it.\" #JosephCampbell #RebelleSociety
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Happy Monday, Rebel! What's your bliss station today? ❤")
