Tag Archive: hope

Sometimes You Just Have To Channel The Fire


Sometimes you just have to channel the fire
Of dreams you have dreamt; of all you desire
Into the heart of a phoenix whose song you hear true
And let hope spring eternal, like the flame within you


Neurotic Insomnia

Is tomorrow the day
I’ll wake up and say
“It’s really okay
That I am just this way” ?

A Prayer To The Sun

As you peek through the bleak
Clouds of winter
I long to feel your rays upon my face
The buds will burst, full of thirst
For sun and rain and all they’ve missed
Amidst the soil.

I emerge anew, coming through
The sludge and slop
To a small pasture on a hill
The vista beckons and my heart reckons
Nature wouldn’t give me something so beautiful
As a memory
As a heart
As a love
As a passion
Just to snatch it from my outstretched hands.
I have too much reverence for this light –
Was my worship of the sun too cavalier?
Do not let the sun go down on this life yet, please.
Just a few more dawns,
I promise I will be as appreciative as I’ve ever been.
Bless me with your golden rays.

I will go when I am to go, but knowing me it probably still won’t be without a fight.

Nightmares and New Conquests

I dream of many things. The future is a mirage of beautiful potentials. My dreams pour out of fountains, streamers of color, each a different, fully realized possibility.
But I do not sleep. I am exhausted, from all of this inadvertent creation and emotion. 
I understand that it is good to plan ahead, but must I really be as prepared as a Girl Scout on cocaine? 
I dreamed of you last night. 
First I kissed your pillowy lips, gently, lovingly.
You stroked my face, my waist, my ass.
And then I remembered how I feel.
How you make me feel,
When you blindly announce all of the reasons I shouldn’t be with you
They sound an awful lot like bodies, minds, souls, hearts, names. 
And I shove you away from me.
You protest and I attack,
Paddling, clawing, pummeling,
Whatever physical harm I can try to infringe so that you might know how the inside of my emotional body cavity feels, every day. 
But you hold me at bay.
Somehow I am unable to make contact, 
You deflect my attacks and I have to approach with a loving hand in order to attempt a slap in the face.
But in your aura, your ozone, your magnetic field, 
I cannot touch you with harm.
My insides writhe with fury
And still no good comes of it.
I awake with a feeling of dread
When I went to bed with such delight.

I met someone else. 
And last night we had an amazing time.
I enjoyed his company
I enjoyed his attention
I enjoyed his touch
I enjoyed his body
And most of all, I enjoyed his empathy.
Oh, believe me when I say that I am sure he has a whole host of unenjoyables, but for the moment, I am delighted. 
Especially because at so many of my self-announced red flag moments, 
For instance, when I mentioned you,
He shrugged them off, or,
Suggested some sort of thoughtful reason why it was alright. 

I would like to see him again. 
And I definitely do not want you to be in the way,
However subconsciously. 


Who knew that it would take another possible realized potential to get me out of this rut of you?
I need to be careful.
I need some space of my own.
I need space to see other people, remember?
I need to be clear with him. 
And myself,
And therefore you,
That other people I do not believe can include you anymore, as much as it pains me.
Because of course I miss you, 
But as this dream burdens me as dead, rotting weight
In my heart and in my gut
I am beginning to realize that the pleasure might not be worth all this pain
Especially since you do not seem to be able to receive any when I try and dish it back.
I am growing weary. 
In fact, I am exhausted.
Give me back my dreams, and give me back my hope. 



PS – I think the reason I hate kissing with as much tongue as everyone else is that because of my acute sense of smell, I also possess an overwhelming capacity for taste. Which makes saliva a little more potent of a substance than some may think. Breath odor is a real thing, people. Ugh. 

Hope on the Horizon

OkCupid tells me I’m a Sonnet:

Romantic, hopeful, and composed. You are the Sonnet. Get it? Composed?

Sonnets want Love and have high ideals about it. They’re conscientious people, caring & careful. You yourself have deep convictions, and you devote a lot of thought to romance and what it should be. This will frighten away most potential mates, but that’s okay, because you’re very choosy with your affections anyway. You’d absolutely refuse to date someone dumber than you, for instance.

Lovers who share your idealized perspective, or who are at least willing to totally throw themselves into a relationship, will be very, very happy with you. And you with them. You’re already selfless and compassionate, and with the right partner, there’s no doubt you can be sensual, even adventurously so.

You probably have lots of female friends, and they have a special soft spot for you. Babies do, too, at the tippy-top of their baby skulls.

This is true. All of this is true.
I found someone. And I’m going to fall in love with him, I think. What’s funny is that I’m not going to meet him for a little while. He doesn’t live near me. And already, in our 24 hours of internet correspondence (and my intent profile reading) I have deduced I am going to like him very much, from afar.

This is a familiar, yet forgotten, feeling. When was the last time I pined for someone I couldn’t have? Well, there’s Cornelius, the young man about whom I’ve written an entire play – a whirlwind of prepubescent pining – and for him I wait. But this new one, this gentle giant, the possibilities are endless.

How to begin the grieving process?
I believe I am almost ready now.
I have bitched and moaned and cried and written, or at least tried.
Tried? Or was it more like allowed to seep through the cracks when I had a moment to stop resisting.
I believe I am ready to look over the edge now.
I am ready to plunge into the water.

You, distant man, you will help me. Because you are available, but not yet attainable. Because the Unacceptable Answers you possess happen to be how I actually feel on subjects, but am too afraid to broadcast. Because you are driven, and optimistic, and kind, and articulate, and tall. So, so tall. And large. Pin me down, son. Pin me down such that I can barely breathe and then whisper the gentlest nothings in my ear, such that I have no choice but to hear the beautiful words that spill from your lips.

What I Am Seeking

I am learning to love my body
Although depending on the angle
Sometimes I slip back
Into doubting
Its Profound Beauty

So please remind me
of my allure
with your eyes traveling along the curve of my

Everything about me is delicious
I am falling in love with
My muscular thighs
They are not going anywhere
I realized
So I can work them
Sweat them
Trim them
Shape them
But they will remain
At least in presence
So I embrace them

And by God, you had better, too.

Because this body
As my good friend Rabi’a said:
This body, all in all, is good enough for embracing –

But the Friend who lives in my house
Is the lover of my Heart.”

I would like you to be both
Lover of my heart
and my body
Because I am all of me.
Please love all of it.

Hold Me

What is the best cure for nightmares?
I have a serious case.
I waste away hours and hours of the night
on the computer
on a pipe
with a book
stuffing my face
it matters not
only to avoid actually allowing myself the luxury
of letting down my guard
and floating into the pillows
and the jersey sheets
to bask in the glory of
peaceful slumber
I’ve lost that.
I am too vulnerable.
I am too exposed to the tyranny of my own conscience
to volunteer
instead I weasel my way out of hours
that I need
my body needs to sleep
my mind needs to rest
my heart needs to heal
but something is stopping it.

Hold me, please
I do not care what you look like
You will not be too [whatever you fear] for me
I am open
I am waiting
I am desperate

I am not looking for love
I am not looking for a lover
Albeit I seem to be finding them along the way
I am merely looking for a good night’s sleep

What is the cure for nightmares?
I don’t know, but in the meantime
Just hold me.

I Did It, This Time

Agency is a funny word.
So is Compromise. 
Martyrdom is A Hat I wish to Remove for a while.
Happiness is hemp bracelet I shall now wear, even in the shower. Even in the rain.

After rain comes the rainbow. After rain comes the rainbow.
The rain can be beautiful.
Let the rain wash away the poison, the sadness, the memories.

Leave me the good ones.
But, you see, you have to pick and choose those from the shattered heap that was your love.
Look at what you’ve done. 
Look at what you’ve broken.
You want to hold onto the good memories?
If you can find them in the rubble, they’re yours.
But I’ll probably say, “I told you so,” when you cut your hand.

Mosaics are nice.
Newly created pieces of art made from recycled garbage that has been crushed because it no longer needed to serve its purpose.
Where am I going with this?
I no longer need this version of your love, so I’m going to shatter it and eventually piece it back together into a haphazard collection of jagged bits. 
What have I done?

I have done what I needed to do to be happy.
Maybe happiness will be with you.
But I need to know that.
I need to have seen all the options,
calculated all the outcomes,
anticipated all the catastrophes

and if I think I’ve done that, 
calculated the appropriate algorithms
to deduce that you are the best possible gamble 
based on the best possible odds
in this incredibly unknown terrain called Life

That you are The One I Want To Be With
then I promise you I will drop everything I’m doing and get my ass to where you are
But until then, I have some living I need to do
For Me
I don’t know what it looks like
Except I know it doesn’t have you.

Thank you for giving me the space I have asked for.
I am holding you in the Light.



I hope that when I look back on all this
in ten, fifteen, and plenty
I will be able to say that
[ blank ]
saved my life.

I hope that
I will not say
[ blank ] 
ruined my life.

that doesn’t mean
of course
that there weren’t shitty times
because sometimes it’s all just too much
you know?

of course you know.
I’d be delusional
if I thought I was the first –

for what?
for anything that would apply when one is so entwined in
[ blank ]

while I don’t know
if I’ll actually have a say
in whether it happens

I can hope all I want
that I’ll be the last
or the only one who matters anyway

[ blank ]
though you may not last forever
forever you will have lastingly
changed me