Enfuego

"The way of love is not a subtle argument.
The door here is devastation.
Birds make great skycircles of their freedom.
How do they do it? They fall,
And in falling they're given wings." ~Rumi

I'm a lover. It's my nature, it's what I do. I fall hard, fast and DEEP, and all to often, it's a blissfully painful experience.

I awoke this morning with a pain in my shoulder and the memory of a recent lover playing in my brain. Immediately I checked my blackberry to see if she'd contacted me via fb, gmail or good ol' fashioned text message. She had, but the deeper aspects of conversations were left untouched. She played on the surface, keeping a foot in the door, but no more...

The steel turns.

On the other side of my dome dances another recent love who wants, perhaps, too much. She pulls for my affection in manners all too familiar, and I watch the love that engulfs her bring out the best of her beauty in manic expressions of poetic brilliance. Psychotic obsession leads to some of the best art mankind has ever known. Whether that obsession is a fire for God, a die-hard world-worn quest, or the all-consuming love of another human, it doesn't matter. It's the spark within that does the trick...but I'd be damned if I called it comfortable for anyone.

Conventional wisdom dictates that I shouldn't care. My primary focus is and should be my mission, my purpose, the work at hand...but still this soft heart of mine beats pink and vibrant, and is easily aroused by those with whom I choose to open. History shows that I'm willing to give it all, gamble everything and torch the ships in the name of love, branding me with a string of names too long to claim...terms of endearment and bile-ridden insults...all stick and none of 'em hold, just like life.

Yeah, I shouldn't care, but I do. This fuels me. Towards what, I'm not sure, but it feels like aliveness, and that can't be a bad thing. So many days I've spent in comfortable numbness, quietly longing for the flames of life to lick my skin and make me feel again. Here I am, in the fire...wanting what's just beyond my reach.
Stretching.
Growing.
Living this Love.

God help us all.

the internal bitch

i'm taking a break from complaining...a 21 day fast from letting negativity and bitching fall from my mouth...and it's starting to get interesting.

just as there are external and internal detox reactions during a physical fast, i'm starting to notice a shift in my head...

yesterday i boarded a plane back to austin from l.a. after a work weekend, and i found myself in a mood. i held true to my commitment and kept my mouth shut...and then i noticed how much complaining naturally takes place between my ears.

so i got to work...instead of fueling the cycle with antagonism and analysis, i chanted. i chose a mantra, closed my eyes, and chanted silently while watching the brat in my brain throw an unwarranted temper tantrum.

before i knew it, i was asleep, dreaming the battle into bliss, and when i awoke, i felt much better. i chose a new attitude, and the perspective of that new vantage point allowed me to see more clearly how lucky i am. i watched the sun set below the horizon of clouds, then bliss overtook me as we dipped down through that white horizon to float above fields of green and gold below.

the bitch and the bliss...all rolled into one whole human.

love this life.

today i feel like a douchebag.

this feeling is unfounded the really real reality, but it's the way i feel. there's so much that i WANT to be doing, and the chief among these is traveling and teaching. but i'm grounded for the moment...working out this life business in the city of my blood.

i'm putting myself out there in ways i never have before, and i'm getting shot at. the blade of improvement is carving at my flesh, and the pruning hurts. my friend and sometimes coach is telling me that my favorite part of my promotional efforts is keeping me from being understood, the people who are responding to my promotions are my broke-ass friends, not the people of means i'm aiming to attract, the class i taught yesterday was ill-attended and full of unsurity, and on and on and on and on and here i sit, bitching on a saturday. sweaty. hot.

ugh.

i think i'm taking all this shit too personally...i'm internalizing the effects of my play in this world...

truth be told (as always), i'm experimenting, and some of the experiments aren't working the way that i'd like them to. perfect. the work is getting more powerful in its falling apart.

okay, time to work some more.

unknown haiku

Arisen from the depths of heaven's descent

Persistent and patient she awaits her sin's fruition

Sidewinding backbiting subtle and slow

The snow rolls uncontrolled down from the blue mesa

Broken Black Branches
The Boy In Her Belly Grows
Cold Rain Rakes the Pane

flip trip

Every fibre of my being screams
F U C K Y O U !!!
Still, I proclaim I LOVE YOU.
And TRUST that God/Goddess will see me through
Using the fire of my anger to change danger into loveplay
For at the heart of my malice is pain
And love is the only salve and salvation.

heart shaped hook

She deals in Painful Transformation

Ripping the flesh from her father's face that he may feel life a little clearer
Carving sorrow in the hearts of every man she comes across,
Delving a deeper vessel of love.
She'll love you more than you've ever been loved.
She'll hurt you more than you've ever been hurt.
To her, they are one and the same.

Still healing the wounds of a father's unfortunate choices.

Attritious Affection
Righteous Rejection
Revenge in a Valentine.

5/8 Freeflow

Wanna try your hand at rhyming?
Sure.
No purity can reside
Where candida hides
Only by bringing to the light what is inside
and taking a flashlight to shadow
can we manage the truth and seek forsooth
the beauty of you
only within moments of prolonged silence
can the violence inside cease and settle down
can the jealousy and rage that plague our days
lay down the blade of outrageous misfortune
it's such a simple trick
sit down shut up and breathe to find peace
then that stillness emanates to the city streets and country lanes
to the desert sands and bomber planes
and the tanks and trucks that fuck with us
daily we pray for some end to sufferance and
through prayer and listening
hair still glistening from
nary a hint of me
swimming deep in the springs
coiled and wound tight on a central still axis
waiting to explode in concentric circles
whipping and slipping and dripping with pearls of shivaic knowledge
shhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh
sit still, child and let your soul run wild
while your mind grows mild
it is the only way
this is the center of adventure
the central core of more than you can imagine
the quintessential commitment to self and service begins within
with a deep breath, sans sin
as sin merely means to be in the lack of
the absence of
the ignorance of
the everpresence of God,
Yahweh, Jah, Allah our Lord
and the depth of feeling comes right here with this
simple hiss of oxygen and CO2 passing past lips
and through teeth
white and shiny
like folklore hineys about to get bitey
by fangs of the same hue as
the love that comes through you.
Amen.