controling the uncontrolled

Burning brighter days now
where i sit and sift the sad sands of time
through my ever-increasing sense of self,
whilst i watch the people passing me by
and turn to hear their distant comments on the air
..so aware..
and so in dispair,
for this inability to change into the one
to ease all others pain,
to find myself in love again,
to be a better self-less soul,
to have a code of honor which i can rightly live by,
but which is of all things my own..

I am standing on the brink of thirty,
looking at ten years into which my deepest fears have shown
the vast emptiness which lies within me,
whenever my mind tries too hard to wonder why,
and whenever i cannot master the yearnings of my foolish body,
which takes too much pleasure in the passions of my youth;
and whenever too i turn to find my soulmate,
and can only watch as he eludes my every step,
is just out of reach
or is simply wearing a mask that i cannot see beyond.
But i myself can never wear this mask, i have been reminded,
i myself can only wear my heart and my severity,
to cold light of day which greets me,
and beckons me forth on this journey,
wearing the most transparent sense of self i can muster,
and ready for almost anything, as i have never once been dissappointed...

swiching off & breaking away

my switch has been turned
to off;
no longer in lust with
the one i have loved for too long now
(to be of any real use to me)
his demonstrations
of our physicality
left this body o'mine longing
for the sweetest gentle other
who ekes out magic with his movements,
uses his voice to caress my insides;
he pulls heaven from his mind's eye
sends it to me with penetrating glances,
which i could only find in distant memories
of the once I who was longed for
by brothers so long long ago;
and this older, now wiser me
stares eternity in the face,
making plans for something permenant
upon which to stake my heart or
claim my space.
I am a weary soul delighted
to be at once free and fancied,
yet terrified i let slip the reigns
to forever or even just one more day.
BUT the whole world is now up for grabbing,
my body totally mine,
having finally, eternally
taken to flight & broken away.

scenes from an online dating world

the twilight resonates my heart's madness;
searching and responding in ways n'er tried before.
(tho twas god who closed that chapter in this life
twas he who has also opened several once unlikely doors...)
new suitors fly out from cyber nowheres
endlessly reexamining my quest for the tangible and more,
i seek to find the faithful companion of my dreamscapes.
he may be just a refreshed page away...
he walks the earth upright and careful
not to tread upon the strings of the heart,
not to wear the world so heavily and
not to make marks which won't erase from this earth's memory.

Now aware as ever that each little word does absolutely count
when you make your conversations heard through typing hands,
to be re-read by the diligent
who pick up on the nuances lying deeply between the lines.
and feeling blessed by responses which may be real,
may be false,
yet still seem whole-hearted enough in the posing.
this is a tricky dimension upon which to set sail one's
ship of hope,
and yet
it is so exciting a time
to reinvent one's emotional correspondence,
to build a persona which is worthy of my own admiration,
as well as someone else's,
to piece together friendships from the furthest corners
of my computorial capabilities,
to reach out and find myself actually touched and even sparkling
in the beautiful and irreverent misty moonlight.

plantains and puntang

i have been suckered back into
what was my self once
long ago
when i felt the speakers
pumping good vibes through my veins
and my body capitulated accordingly

i am still sending out smoke signals
still in love with the night
i thought i had lost
still empowered to take numbers
and send them in single file...
but i won't...
can't go there
not yet when the world is so wicked
and i am trying to be ever so good
and a new one woos me with fried plantains
but the taste of my once love still lingers in the air

and on my tongue
i have officially been wowed into silence
where i wait while my heart beats ever louder than
before
and am sure i have made a mistake
before i ever have made a move

and the mystic in me smiles
and curses my libido back to reality...
really
i can survive with much less.

wicked wanderland

am somewhere searching for a hidden meaning
looking out at the urbanity of my life
wishing only for treetops and clearwater
licking icecream on sunshine staircases
journeys to everywhere and then some...
would like to keep up romance
tho it seems too indefinate a must for right now
and i am helplessly lost in each moment
watching the days fly as they so often do
going on four years to nowhere
in abundance of friends and food
lacking time or enough reason and rest
to make the decisions count for...
myself and mon beau are secretly mistified and lovelost
we keep weeping dryly toward a posthumous relationship
which we will never keep up with and not lose our own selves in
Oh how the dark ones do taunt me
and make me long for sojourn and sobriety
and sugar in this here bowl...
alas i have naught for now
as my love reaches ever farther away
whilst we continue holding on to eachother's fingers...
and sucking on our toes
and heaven only knows what this future me holds
but the tease is in me,
and i haven't yet told it to sit down and shut up.

journey down south

Dust devils and delapidation dot this california countryside
where the ground thirsts and moans
as the sky opens up to beat the sun on down
This need for chopped wood and random irrigation,
power lines crisscrossing like umbilical cords,
connecting these less-than-zen szborra
with their abilities to move their god-grown goods.
Waste piles around the salvage lots and fruit packing plants
where the ugliness of mechanism and transport
interrupt my natural appreciations.
Filing past land that looks long worn,
acres well marked and marred for their plantings,
debris and old cars line the hwys where people drive past
to somewhere without looking;
Ugliness the omni-present byproduct of
commerce running wholy amuck with our ecosystem.
This is not the farmland i remember as a child.
There i could go entire days without seeing cars move
and could truthfully commune with the trees and the fauna
who were my only line of sight,
my friends the blissful foresters.
Instead, the industrial wasteland of Fresno,
a once-fine farmer's hellhole,
is where the old homes and monstrous buildings crowd around
like unpersonified overlords of the crops they are eagerly displacing.

ugh and goodnight...postponed

trying and failing for positive reinforcement weighing heavily on mind
this need to regroup and refocus
but to be touched and to communicate my femininity
watching the moon as it slowly turns to full
faces me from these windy empty skies where i am staring in wonderment
at the abandoned reality i once held so dear
from my treepost i sit ready to attack my aggression
and tackle my fits of needy time
i try and fail again to read the book he blessed me with
and swim the laps i promised myself
instead i sink thru the quicksand of denial and depression
call out to any passersby to save me from my own exhausted wandering
wondering still where i am and how i got here
too tired really to go out looking for anything else
too scared to really face that empty bed and go it alone
too aware of my own ineffective transparency
too thin-skinned and beguiled by the light of day
far too long having eaten and bathed with only his blessing
feeling shell-shocked and worn down no good to no one anymore...
but praying still that i can be good for myself