needle my heart
thread me with hurt
keep me just alive
feel the cold anger
turn to hot sorrow
as I fight to survive
pull back bitten nails
pin me with pain
and pleasure derive
it’s torturer’s art
to keep us apart
and this love deprive

needle my heart
thread me with hurt
keep me just alive
feel the cold anger
turn to hot sorrow
as I fight to survive
pull back bitten nails
pin me with pain
and pleasure derive
it’s torturer’s art
to keep us apart
and this love deprive

a memory
it is not mine
upon a log I sit
‘neath the snowy pine
under darkened sky
beside earthen stove
a bitter wind kicks up
in the moonlit grove
the jingle of the horse & sleigh
as it carries him so far away
I cannot weep, I do not cry
a muted heart is breaking
and as the silence lies
a frozen bough is snapping – loud
to crack the quiet
still, expected in the freeze
I do not startle, there is no breeze
no wind at back to impel me
my bones have stiffened here
my mind is anything but clear
as the winter’s solitude
forces delusions rather rude
inner quietude never did follow outer
now it’s simply easier to hear
internal screaming
though the fire burns, continuous
it takes us not
because it cannot reach
what we refuse we got
buried below
alive and dead
some peace & love
blessings bestowed
how are these all stripped from me?
as he plods on down the snowy path
I know he won’t be coming back
so I’m wrecked to watch him leave
though it is not my memory
I have placed upon the shelf
the feeling
for later
it’s insecure
incorrectly placed
never found the stud
I don’t know why such a weightless gift
should appear so heavy
it will likely fall
not the for the first time glass
has shattered
infinite and
finite sharp crystal gems
allowed to cut again
weapons cast upon the floor
because I was afraid,
I guess
why else
was such a lovely
feeling
shelfed?
Open your mind, heart
to feel what you feel, name it
your Spiritual Guide whispers to you
as a wave that laps the sandy shore, gently
receding, absent whitecaps
Name what you feel
be not afraid
for what rises will fall
and what fear have we
of what is not permanent,
never mind what we cannot name?
What we cannot name does not exist,
so what is it?
and you go within,
as instructed for
within is all there is
when there is
no out there out there
and you feel
disappointment
red, raw, and sinewy
funnily, sadly, and sorely
familiar, rubbed, worn and
blistered, in risk of rot
if you let it fester like
resentment –
you can’t
I was here first your way
in or out of this one
it’s not yours, except
you lay claim to its
disappointment
as though it could have been
if it could have it would have
and it didn’t so it won’t
and you think
acceptance
the sweetest fruit,
sometimes the heaviest to bear
laid at your feet as you risk despair
only having to pick it up, lift it
with legs of wisdom,
but no –
I chose
to disappoint myself
yet, hope
hope is here too
blossoming as a new bud
for disappointment
could not create sorrow
where love and compassion
had already taken root –
my mind protected by a gate of
incredible goodness, the only pleasure
I’ll happily increase in samsara’s garden
where running never yields escape
for the iron fence is the nature
of the mind – presently misunderstood
so hope,
hope that yields to faith
is what transforms my dream
because I must believe that
change is possible, is real
to make progress, effort, heal
I trust my Spiritual Guide’s instructions
for I put them to the test
and when hope transformed to purest
Faith, I see they are the best
and still my foolish mind cannot
afford to rest
because I was the mind of
unnecessary disappointment today
the utmost waste of breath
when each and every thing that’s ripened
has been for my swift path’s benefit
so this too I will transform
and birth love so great it shall
become the norm, even if time be brief
we have so little to work with,
yet there’s so much we can achieve
if we hold correct belief
so, still I see the disappointment
my mind claims as mine – though truly
I could do without, here, add to that list
my deluded doubt
I know my happiness doesn’t lie here,
and still I mourn a temporary loss –
so instead, I donate
these mistaken minds to the cause,
the cause of the effect, the only one
I wish to possess, the greatest mind
of precious Enlightenment
(for others’ benefit, may I forever cease
these horrible, painful minds of suffering)