sometimes i think that i wouldn’t feel so lonely, if maybe i was just a little less of myself… a little less intense, a little less emotional, a little less afraid, a little less self-centered, a little less sensitive, a little less outspoken, a little less vulnerable, a little less free-spirited, a little less hopeful,…

You call me Queen, but how am I to know what that means to you? You hardly know me but for a night of magical connection with the universe. I want to believe you, for you are as beautiful to me as the words you spoke to me that night. A lifetime ago, I would…

first poem of the new year and a few unpublished ones… enjoy! ego strikes; humility reels me back in; surrender guides me to places i couldn’t dream of experiencing in the shallows of my smaller self… all the while, grace whispers her secrets to me as i fall into the arms of my own potential……

That steaming mug of nectar that whisks my nightmares away making room for the reality of a new day to settle in Warm, sweetened and creamed lifting the grogginess from my eyes so I can see the difference between the theatre of my mind at night and the theatre of the world in light.

I hate you, you wheezing sacs of mucus-filled cavities threatening my breathing no matter how much I blow my nose it stays stuffed up in exactly the same spot You turn me into a whiny-baby with a froggy voice I hate you! Phlegm, phlegm go away, don’t come back any other day…. let me rest…

Dreamscapes flit through my mind as I lay in my favorite position snuggling with  pillows all around me and I feel the coolness of the air as the fan above me circles lazily I hear a bird or two, and the whooshing of the fan and feel the grosser needs of my body command my attention…

Clinging to threads of Faith left over from a better time Knowing that something different is possible having lived it before Finding my way through shadows of experience Each old one a lesson Each new one an opportunity to become the higher self and live free once more

I face the page, blank, staring daring words to jump from my pen but the emotions that drive inspiration are as flat as that lined canvas. Even the gray clouds that seemingly match my mood have more texture and depth than the doldrums of my heart. That stupid page stares back, mocking laughing at my…

A bit of ambience graces my senses whilst waiting for the conversation that will reveal my desires and fears A confidante who knows my most intimate thoughts as though they were his own reminding me that I am not alone in my struggles, nor in my triumphs so I can breathe in a fresh gulp…