the photo's faded
and not like we remember
the picture never did really
look the same

colors run
together inside
the darkened walls
of forgetful minds

it looks like time
is out of order
these fragments of memories
in clarity attest

the images are jaded
here on the page
and nothing like
the reality we've known


No Hablo Español...

Ok... so, I have this friend... A fairly new friend actually. One of those friend-of-a-friend deals. So, I don't know this guy REALLY well, but I think I'd like to keep him and his wife as friends. They're fun people, they live nearby, and we share common friends and interests.

There's a fine line that one walks when they're new to any relationship, the one that so many people can't even see when they're first dating or developing a new friendship with someone. You want to get to know each other. You want to like each other. You want to do whatever you need to so that you don't upset the fragile balance between you. At the same time, you both know there's no such thing as real relationship without honesty and authenticity so you can't just go along with everything the other says... especially when it goes against what you believe.

So... he starts ranting today about a the subject of non-English speakers (a.k.a. non-natives). One of his customers was mad at him because he doesn't speak Spanish. This is not the first time that this has happened to him in his job and I understand that's really frustrating to him. His response, however, was, "you are in america we speak in english, learn it" and "I find that to be pure lazyness on there part when they to the usa. the gov needs to be more strict about that."

Now, I'm not picking on him (well, maybe just a little, but I swear it's all in fun). I've encountered this sentiment repeatedly in varying degrees, and I'm using him as an illustration because he's the most recent example, and because I'm fairly sure he can handle me poking a bit of fun in his direction.

So, here's my view: I feel like all cultures and ethnicities should be appreciated and valued and, yes, even celebrated. However, I also feel that it is important to learn to relate to the culture in which are living. So while I feel it's important to maintain a sense of individual heritage and even language (which is, for a lot of people, a huge part of their identity and self-worth), it's also a necessity for people to learn the primary language of the country in which they live.

To further clarify, I think that it just makes sense, if you're looking to be a part of any culture, to become a part of that culture. One should NOT expect the world to bend to them. I would not travel overseas and expect every person I meet to speak English. But the main difference is, I'd probably find someone who speaks English in any other country much more quickly than I would find someone to speak Spanish (or any other language) here in America (particularly in rural PA).

We in America are incredibly insensitive to those who do not speak English as their primary language. As another friend countered in this debate, "I suppose the next step is that we need to get rid of thick accents, right?" Now, her point was delivered with all the politeness she could muster, but I know that she takes this subject very seriously. And, I don't think that Friend A was expressing this depth of "animosity" toward non-English speakers, but I honestly don't know as I don't know him all that well. But, I've heard that sentiment as well, usually in association with annoyance of a generally racist nature ("I hate calling Customer Service lines and hearing that 'Muslim' accent.")

I do think (with all apologies aimed toward Friend A) that it is rather hypocritical for someone to complain about non-English speakers with improper spelling and grammar, but then, I realize that not everyone is as linguistically minded as I am. I just find, in my own personal experience, that since most of the world is bilingual, we merely display our ignorance when we act and assume superiority on these types of issues. Just sayin', it wouldn't hurt us to learn some other languages.

Some days, comments like that from friends would really annoy me. Some days, they'd roll off my back, barely noticed. Today, however, is apparently a day when I come back with snarkiness and a blog rant.

On The Edge

They tell me to relax
to let go of it all
while I teeter out here
by myself

As if that's all it would take
to call me
into the center

As if it's really that easy
just one small step

As if there isn't this wall here
obstructing my view
hindering my path

As if I even belong there
and not banished outside
wandering alone

So, I'll let down my guard
and try to relax
allowing myself to let go

And when I inevitably succumb
to gravity's embrace
I'll fall in sweet bliss

Knowing I'm finally where I belong

What The Darkness Proposes

The lights went out
and the power went down
but the energy only increased

As long~dormant dreamers
in mystical madness
became children of nighttime released

In silent seduction
they cast off the confines
of whatever they'd been told to do

Filled with the thrall
and the wonder that waits
living fantasies somehow more true

As starlight collides
in the frenzy of freedom
that sleeps in the deadness of dawn

The pointless pursuits
Wasted drowning in day
Forgotten as Nox rights all wrongs


Today's creative writing prompt from A Writer's Book of Days is: "Write what the darkness proposes."



Razor-sharp splinters sink into the mud
embedding themselves in permanence

These pieces of Eden left from the fall
fracturing light-scattered shadows

Drawing blood from over-scarred wounds
in the semblance of healing power

The colors of passion, of hope and trust
when ignited with joy become beauty

Alone these pieces are nothing but pain
but together they make something more



I danced in the rain
on my wedding day
on the thirteenth day of June

I've boiled the milk
and cried when it spilled
because I somehow lost the salt

I've slept east to west
on the bed facing north
and messed up the sheets on Friday

And I've dropped my umbrella
on the hard wood floor
as I sneezed in the chill of the draft

So I'll lurk under ladders
but I'm done hiding in shadows ~
a black cat ready to pounce

And I won't wait seven years
before I gather up the pieces
of this shattered and dying reflection



twirling in circles
'til we all fall down
in a panic of frolic
and endlessly spinning
captured in trails
like dogs in a frenzy
defending themselves
from personal attack

bead~covered glass
shields the elements
from all that's inside
as a drop breaks away
in inertia's grasp
slowly sinking at 45
degrees of freedom

not long thereafter
another bead breaks
falling more quickly
at a much lesser angle
trying to follow
but landing alone

caught in unyielding distance
of altered perceptions
and geometric dissonance
over time's senile space



the questions
this shadow
rising around her
threaten to strangle
what doesn't succumb

in this room
no one sees
the stuff of life and proof
and the echoing silence
from shattered remains

so she waits
barely moving
seeing glimmering time
trapped in her mind
sole dysfunction of haste

its darkness creeps
into corners of light
causing the answers to turn
chasing truth under rugs
as she grasps at the strings



Now I lay me down
to sleep upon the ground
as icy fingers creep
slowly through my bones
numbed to everything left
inside this empty heart

the agonizing pain
which makes me insane
is knowing I can't fly
without falling on my ass

so I'll curl into a ball
safe inside these walls
and find the only relief
left here in this dark place
like feathers on my face
the beauty of this comfort
in the midst of all the pain


Today's creative writing prompt from A Writer's Book of Days: "Write about a pillow."


Channeling the Ancient

'When I [Mitch Albom] asked the rabbi, “How do you account for all these different faiths? How can they all be right? Isn’t just one right, and the rest wrong by default?” He gave this example of trees. He said, “Do you believe that God made trees?” And I said, “Yes.” And he said, “So why didn’t he make just one tree? Why did he have to make a bunch of different kinds of trees? He’s God, and if he’s going to call this a tree, why wouldn’t they all look like this? But he made oaks and pines. Why? Because they’re all varieties of God’s creation. Why can’t you look at faith that way?”'

I am discovering that I'm a mystic, a contemplative. I think that I've always known this actually, but the reawakened poet in me is resonating with this form of spirituality more now than ever. My faith and my spiritual journey have become far more real to me and I'm finding this silent contemplation and the quest for deep spiritual connection to be the only things that truly fill my soul or fulfill me as spiritual being.

But apparently this is the stuff that scares a lot of Christians.

In my experience, something about the possibility of being wrong, or the possibility that God is more than a series of rituals, rules, or religion terrifies those who've been raised in the "Christian" church. Because to most people, admitting that we've missed the point (by having assumed that organized, mainstream "Christianity" is the only true path to God) means that we've somehow wasted our lives. But the thing is, nothing is a waste if it's leading us to a deeper and more meaningful relationship with the Lover of our souls.

I think the problem is that at the very core, all of humanity is filled with the same "collective consciousness" ~ an awareness of the supernatural ~ because we're all created by the same Supreme Being, regardless of what we call Him/Her or how we express that awareness. There's the deep yearning for something more, the need to search and sort through the great questions of life, and an innate desire to connect on a spiritual level.

And it predates Christianity. It predates religion in general. It goes back to the very beginning to the "God created..." where it was simple ~ a relationship. There was simply a man and his God, until the relationship shattered, and the distance was created. And as time moves along, that distance widens and deepens and humanity struggles to find that path back to God.

And we do what we can to find it. All things lie within our hearts; placed there by God. I think a true desire to find God will lead one to the appropriate path.

Jesus declared Himself to be the ultimate example: the way, the truth, the life. He lived a life of servitude, a life of humility, a life of love, and a life of contemplation. And He is the embodiment of this way to God. Those who KNOW Jesus will find God.

But what of those who never had the chance? How about those who spend their lives seeking God and never hear the name Jesus? What if we've entirely missed Jesus' point? What if those people know Jesus better than all of us who fill the chairs in our sanctuaries every week, sing our songs, and pray our prayers?

I'm not offering answers here. I truly don't have them, but what I do know is that it's ok that I don't. If I did, I wouldn't need God. I would assume that I've "made it" and I would be no better than Lucifer who decided that he was "like God" (leading to his expulsion from heaven).

I will walk the path to God without apology and without fear.

I will continue to seek and use any tool from any religion that is available to me to do so. I'm not afraid to admit that God is bigger than Mere Christianity. I'm not afraid to walk a labyrinth, or light a candle in memory of someone I love, or see God's fingerprints in the sky and hear the voice of Love in the wind. I'm not afraid to challenge the status quo of Christianity, to throw off the rules and regulations set up by those who have bought into "Christianity" being the only answer. I am not afraid to allow my spirit and my soul to explore concepts of communion with God and others through "non~traditional" means. I'm not afraid of the "new~age" movement which is, for the most part, little more than a reawakening of ancient spiritual practices on the road to understanding God. What goes around, comes around and the wheel of time keeps turning.

For those of you who've read this far and are now praying for my soul, I will reassure you that I do believe in the the basics of the Christian faith. I may not interpret everything exactly the same as all of my Christian friends and family, but in what matters I can agree.

I just know there's more to this "abundant life in Christ" and my God created me to be this way for a reason. I intend to find it... or die trying.


Carving the Moon

I don't want to talk
about crossing the lines
or standing in corners
or traveling through time

I want to dance
in the circle
of pale moon light
and know that it's here:
this water
real life

We build all our boxes
to keep us inside
on this spherical planet
in "linear time"

Creation repeats
through living
through death
and the planets evolve
over seasons
endless in years

Why shouldn't I feel
that there's more here than this?
That hell is a myth
and heaven doesn't exist?

What was will be over
again and again
co~existing in echoes
of what we've reflected
in the moon
in our souls

I don't want the answers;
I'll live with the mystery
of time overlapping
disregarding our history



it's in the air

this weighting


each one
drenched and drowning

in permanent change
and uncertain instability ~
dangling in danger

struck again
merely waiting
finality of judgment
as the jury deliberates

who will make the final cut


The Wish

Close your eyes
and hold on tight
to moments

missed and misremembered

Take a breath
and picture

what you want to be

Another year older
decades wiser
but eons more unsure

of where this path will lead

Exhale slowly
and then let go

of all you think you know



There’s a girl inside
shoved so deep down
I don’t know that I remember

She’d come out sometimes
to play and dance
in sweetened haze descended
from liquid fire consumed
before such freedoms ended

She’d like to have friends
and not need to hide
under layers of lifetimes
insignificant confines

She huddles under labels
like blankets people gave her

crazy and insane
unstable and careless
heathen and faithless

Disregarded again
as nothing more interesting
than silly
… immature

but her view is something different
buried beneath pain

so she swallows one more pill
and follows prescribed methods
living up to outer expectations
to function on the inside

But even now
as she submits, she wonders
if she’ll ever fly again

her heart is somewhere outside
this grand façade of sane
Not big enough to hide the pain
Not hard enough to protect her
from the one she longs to be



I feel
so tired as the wind
moves in. Like
the back
of someone's hand. Struggling
to move even one step

Mostly the colorful aroma flirts
with my senses, teasing
me with it's psychokinetic
instability. Forcing me
to notice the exquisite
agony as the charm ascends
and insight spreads.

This pristine production
on a backdrop of pretense ~
a generous remedy confirming
a malfunctioning creed.

in the imagination of one's
erased, the end
results in hyperbolic
in the dangerous safety of
rejection's lovely