Espíritu Intuitivo

Black Ink

In those times, I could only write furiously.  For there was a darkness within me pouring out liked a panicked crowd.  Hurried, but mad with no understanding of what it was running from or where it was running to.  Only that the shadow needed to be moved, transformed into another type of a darkness.  Possibly turned into the purple starry sky.  The darkness and I both agreed on the stars.  There, we met in mutual peace.

When I walk the streets
I see the many different faces of God. 
And I think how crazy it is
that many of them don’t see their own power
because they believe that God is something else.

Today I am many people

I heard rumor I died today

Darkness becomes the daylight hours

Darkness becomes the daylight hours
I never thought it synonymous with dawn or noon 

There is no place to find my tears
when my inner earth is composed of drylands

Angel wings run from me as I chase them
Or maybe they elude me

I am trapped in the complexity of my own prison
Worn from carrying a burden that feels like
turmoil & bereavement within a rock
weighing upon my chest

My soul used to write me
Highlighting the pleasures of life
Filling me with memories
of my own design

I’ve escaped before
I remember freedom
But being a prisoner to one’s own hate
Ceases all letters sent from the soul

Words…

Words are the least reliable form of communication. I’m scared that when I’m in love, the poetry just won’t do. I’m afraid “I love you” has become so commonplace that I’ll just never say it. And nothing I ever do will accurately communicate the ocean of rapturous and beautiful love that dances in my soul for her.

Natural

I trace your body with the brushes of my fingers
painting from the palette of colors I hold in my soul
I’ll create a masterpiece upon a masterpiece
Then I’ll place you in the tub
and bathe you
We’ll watch the colors
flow down the drain
so you can see as I do
that nothing you put over your body
will ever out shine what is naturally yours

Solace

These tender hours are by far the most precious

These tender hours are by far the most precious.  I have turned the stone over, never finding my secrets.  Never finding my identity.  I stood over the well in anticipation that my reflection would have something to tell me.  I rendered nature useless after that.  Yet these hours are by far the most precious.  Caught in the hours between a second of eternity, I have all the time I need to find my way.

I pass souls on the dark roads.  Their tiny lamps lighting their way.  We exchange smiles, but painful longing glances.  We can give love to one another, but we will never be able to help each other find the secrets we are looking for.  I no longer look to the moon for assistance.  My dearest stars, I have neglected like precious pups.  Yet, they will not perish, for they hope that I will find my way. 

I write my name in the sand, far away from the cold ocean so the giant droplets won’t destroy my creation.  I act as a scientist analysing and observing the lines and curves of my name.  Hoping they will be the sign posts on the road to lead me home. 

It is night again.  The air of quietness that brushes across my flesh is filled with hope and solitude.  I have eternity within a second of eternity to recapture my soul.  It is here somewhere under my grasp.  I have all the time I need.  And these tender hours are by far the most precious.

What Mat(erializes)ters

Watching their lips part venomously 
uttering black fog that blocks out light
They give precious creative energy
to things that should never matter
I should say instead: things that should never mat(erialize)ter
When on the tip of the tongue is creation
Speak and it is so
This is why listening to each other speak sometimes
makes the reason behind troubles known
Everyday I stare Death in the face
She is glorious and ravishing 
She is precious because she reminds me
to only think, speak and do things that will create light

take a look at what you did

take a look at what you did
the cosmos and marigolds are ash
and the soil is tarnished

where, now
will we sow seeds of our future
where will our Love grow?