Poetry addressing root chakra (grounding, earth)
My damp, snow laden bows, weighted by the burden of winter’s past and present.Tested by the elements who rebel against their motherEarth and life itself. Life’s sap in my petrified trunk flow not.Slowed to a crawl as it selects which appendage to feed next.Each feeding in relation to and dependence upon the other. Inward I …
There is a differenceBetween admirer and friend Lover and soul mateBoth? Chasms presenting as inchesBedrooms to stadiums Those that see, those who observeStay In judgement, admiration or need. I release to pressureDrowning in misperception Them Not the fewKnowingWho know Me.
If I could record my heart,My love, despair and hope; barely acknowledged. I’d blow the speakers of your mind.The chest of your heart – and anything you hold dear. I’m not a threat.But I present as much. Inward I go; volume decreased. Pointless. Confronted; perhaps cornered.My body sways; rolls and stands walls tall. Octaves …
A gaze, beyond magnetic. I thought I couldn’t be seen. Not one captured in this lifetime – but from one long since past A story of two; paths so dark, convergent and yet parallel amidst the desert Lost and thrown away, as if by design Our oasis presented The King and Queen of sands.
I love sensuality. And the endless power behind it. The knowing, calm and focus.Sleepy eyes that know their privilege, purpose and target. I love my body – regardless of state,how it tests my mind and heart. All for me. And that’s exactly why I scare the shit out of most men (and women) As I …
I don’t know how you found me. Or if you were given to me. Everyone else passed. Even when they never left. Ridiculed. Diagnosed. Sidelined. You, however, paused to stop; taking. No, making the time, to enter my interior. Through my exterior. You saw flowers in my weeds. Courage in my foundation, and inspiration through …
I will always feel more than most,but I am not unique. I will never know who named me,but I am not nameless. I will always stumble and fall, But I am still,standing.
If I were spirit and nature itself, I would float a lazy river, half in, half out; hypnotized by the canopy of leaves and birds dancing overhead. Light shifting and sparkling with the wind. Composer and performer in play. Eddying in each moment, aware only of a bird’s call or warm current that catches me …
The goal is a hundred, but I want less. Less of what others desire, and more of what I require. One percent of the human condition that only the rare, wounded and gifted experience; and even for them – only in the safety of their dreams. A crude and fantastic earthly existence, where flesh is …
No one can truly prepare for the day or split second when their life will end. The inertia and gravity of that solitary moment is inescapable. It’s a truth that inspires, paralyses and haunts us all. That split second when, consciously or not, a lifetime of theories, addictions and personal evolution collide in reckoning. This …
