ribcage dance

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when I told God about how you are my favorite and how my heart is going crazy, God replied,

“that’s why I gave you a rib cage…its perfectly safe for your heart to have seizures and do some ecstatic dancing. if you take a deeper breath, it will give your heart a little more room to bounce and it will feel less constricted

Breathe.”

cinco de mayo

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do you know the girl from impanema
she makes me wanna dance until i see ya
we’d walk down on the shore
where i could free ya
the way you set my soul my soul on fire

do you know the girl from gold golconda
she made wanna search until
i found ya
we’d hop onto her boat
and i’d surround ya
the way you set my soul my soul on fire

you make me wanna dance dance dance
the night away
you make wanna dance
with all the things
you say
you make me wanna dance there
in your arms so strong
you make me wanna dance
the whole night long

do you know the girl the girl from everywhere
she always worried everything would disappear
but everything has changed around this time of year
the way you set my soul my soul on fire

you make me wanna (chorus)

do you, want to, do you want to dance?


you can check this song out at:

gold flag of golconda

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Dear Lillian,

sometimes there’s just some grieving to do; you may try to avoid it but it hounds you, you know. and until you feel what you need to feel, no matter how strong and prepared you might be, like Achilles, your heels get attacked by the hound of grief.  it bites at your ankles like a nest of ground bees, but its too painful to actually stop and swat. you have to run. you have to run like a mother fucker while they attack your very source of motion.  and if your feet fail you, you can start to crawl. walk on your hands if you can, drag yourself thru the mud, but don’t give up. dont let them get to your heart.

you have to keep on. and find your way to the black pearl.

and once you get thru that purgatory nest, trying to pull you into hell, you feel like you see a new world, like Plato escaping the cave, and the newness is like a golden and colorful heaven, like in Golconda.

i don’t always get to my Golconda, but when i do, i find myself.

when there’s nothing left to forget, and there’s nothing left to remember, and you find that all that’s left is

the silence of surrender.

you don’t need the vortex of others to lose yourself. there is no more losing here. i already played that black flag losing game, Lillian. there’s no green flag winning games, either.

all that’s left is the white flag of surrender and the gold flag.

the gold flag of golconda.

i will meet you there, Lillian, at that flag pole. you can play jazz piano and i will play marimba and then we will dance. not to forget. not to remember, but to surrender to who you are.

it’s pouring

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i just wrote you this beautiful poem about me crying more in the gentle rain, though my phone deleted it and i felt so angry that it was lost. i titled it “unlearning” because my sadness changed to joy when i examined my feelings in deeper meditation.

do you know what the poem said? (not verbatim….it is now lost in cyberspace, hoping you heard it or felt it at least)

it said,

i love you even though it hurts

it said,

im glad it hurts because the feeling is a gift

it said,

i would rather feel love passionately, and scream about it with gladness in my heart.

beats the hell out of the apathetic and subtle tears rolling down my face during a gentle rain.

lets see if my phone agrees to publish this one.

and now ….its pouring.

gentle rain

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i love gentle rain.
it kinda makes it feel like
it’s okay to cry some tears.
not heavy and loud sobs,
but nice and gentle ones.

and then there’s those moments
of humidity following rainfall,
where there’s a warm fog hovering
around the earth,
like the earth and atmosphere
are confused as to whether it’s cold or warm.

that’s how it feels after a gentle cry.
your body is kinda cold from the tears and the sadness
but having released them, it’s like a warm embrace
surrounds you
and
you realize,
the fog isn’t actually confusion like so many have written of it…

it’s actually a reminder:
that when conflict is in the air,
cold, warm, cold, warm
the surroundings respond
too…
and have a way of bringing it all together
into something new.
the fog is a new creation, after all.

it’s all going to be okay.
it’s going to be okay.
and it’s time for new creations.

malbec dreamc

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so i pack up the tent in the morning,
kinda of grudgingly cause i’m depressed as hell,
and i head back to the house.

i have a bottle of malbec and decide to have a glass with lunch.

then i pass out.
in my dream, you return.
we talk on the phone about sleeping bags
and i dare to tell you that i missed you.
you say, “yea, i get it.”
and i tell you that i think i still have your flashlight.
you agree that you will come by to get it.

i insist you should just stay the night since it’s a few hours drive.
you hesitate, but then agree once I tell you that I’ll make breakfast sausage with coffee cakes in the morning.

i get so ecstatic and hang up the phone.
i should realize it’s a dream at this point because it’s an old fashioned landline phone.
but instead, i start readying my house.
and as i’m looking in the mirror,
i wake up and realize that it was just another dream.