False Magic

We all want to surround ourselves with beauty and contentment and love. But sometimes in our search for these things we fall for false magic. The things that seem close to what we are reaching for. The little voice inside whispering; “maybe this is as close as we will ever get”.  So we call it ours and dress it up and pray that it all holds together with wishful thinking, some Hail Mary’s and crossed fingers. But despite our desperate embrace and no matter how many of our friends and family play along, we all know. We all see beyond the smoke and mirrors and the magicians assistant, and we know.  That a path or a relationship or a deed that takes effort to justify is not authentic, and therefore, not worth the descent.  But if you are diligent and unfaltering in the ensuing climb, you learn that the things you craved from external sources were within your reach all along. And maybe that was worth the fall.

Breathing Life into Dreams

I used to call myself a writer.
I used to need to write
not for the finished product, but for the act of it.
Not because I needed to be heard, but because I needed to speak.

Because if we don't set them free,
how do we breathe life into
these dreams that we dream?

I used to write to exist.

Does that mean, that in the absence of inspiration,
that I was living half a life?
Because, in that time,
I. Loved.

I loved so big and with a force so strong,
that it carried me away.

I loved so much that I was lost.

So how do you write when your words are not your own?
When your voice is drowned out by the chaos,
the current
of a love that's not right?

You don't.
You don't fight the current,
you go along in the direction you are pulled.
And you wait
To be spit out by the sea.


And when you reclaim control,
collect your senses,
can feel,

you turn your back on chaos.
Make your way to a place of peace.

A place quiet enough to pick out
the whispers of new dreams.

A place where your voice has value.
Maybe even some magic.

A place to build a home.
At. Long. Last.

I used to call myself a writer,
but now I can see,

That I shape my life
with the magic
of my dreams.

The End of "you and me"

we ran free, you and me
a night under Christmas lights hung carefully from the trees
we held hands and were excited just to be together
finally
you and me

I don't want to count the moments
when the good ones were so few
I don't want to know the moment
when we lost it, me and you

because what we had, I never really knew
and wishing and praying never made it true

and I hate that you sit where you are
the miles between us never felt so far

but I can't move forward wondering
if you've any bridges left not burned
if you might lose the grip of the bottle, if you'll learn

if you will find a lover who would make you leave your shattered world behind
or if you'll make it back this time

what I want is peace
for you
and for me

but I can only work on me.

so save a portion of your heart
reserve it only for your new start

free of you and me

Francesca

I feel like I've known you since first I could read
But I discovered your words tucked neatly on the shelf in my third grade class
a treasure buried next to The Babysitters Club and Nancy Drew
a story so fantastical but a mirror image of emotions too new to understand
and something so. much. more.

I too felt alone in a house too small for so many people
my eyes were grey, where her's were violet
my hair cropped short when her's grew tangled and unbridled
but both of us wondering "what time are we upon, and where do i belong"?

I entered adolescence in a fog of depression lifted only by my imagination.
I sat alone in my room and sang to birds from my window
I drew faces with my fingertip on the rain spattered pane
I tacked up pictures of fairies and braided flowers to crown my hair
I cried in secret about my mother's illness and worried I had driven my bio-dad away by simply existing
And I tried not to be in the way

When I was taller, more filled out, and just beginning to bloom
I fell in love.
I read and re-read Witch Baby's Letter to Angel Juan
and contemplated the existence of Souls and Mates

And when my heart broke I listened to Fiona Apple on repeat
and looked for meaning from Dangerous Angels
There were more than a few.

When I was alone with an infant at my breast
numb with exhaustion  but my heart overflowing. (OVER FLOWING)
we curled up, my Little between my knees, and read about how you guarded the Moon
And I didn't feel alone.

Is it any wonder that your words feel like home?
You've helped shape my world.

Autumn for Maureen

another autumn, my world changing hues
I smiled today and thought of you
your auburn hair and curlicues
how the fall seemed to belong to you
a backdrop crafted to frame your lovely face
your beloved garden resting, blanketed by leaves and spider's lace

I hope your view is clear and true
to watch the earth while it celebrates you.

Something Better

We don't share blood, but something better
I have no memories of my childhood that we don't share.
My brother's been my enemy, my ally and my best friend
and even in distance, he's always there.

Show me a man who is more giving.
Show me a man with more love to share.
My brother is a man who did more with less
and who conquered hardships beyond compare.

We don't share blood, but something better
a respect and a love that was earned.

And now my brother has given his heart to a girl
and my brother's love is returned.

I won't get to see the look in his eye
when the eyes of his bride find his own.
I'm on a journey of love myself,
and making my way back home.

But my brother is happy and deserves nothing less
than the joy in his heart and this girl in her dress,
her heart, their future and the joy in success

That they've created something better.

If love comes easy

If love comes easy
like the trickle of the stream
it's not for me

If love calls softly
like whispers on the breeze
it's not for me

give me the torrent
of a storm on the sea
give me the cries of  a love
fighting to be

then that love is for me

in a world so vast
where seasons
burn hot, grow cold, then turn mild
I want a love where my heart turns wild

untamed and free

I want a lover
who is perfect for me
who will bare his teeth in anger
and howl when he's moved by me

if love comes easy
then it's not for me
give me the cries of a love
fighting to be

I imagine your body
curves lines and hue
texture of skin
the feel of muscle, bone, sinew

my head resting on your chest
I feel your voice travel
from my core to my limbs

feel your energy move through my body
until it leaves mingled with my own

I smile as I imagine the imprint our love will leave
against the earths atmosphere

body lain dormant
waiting for you
I open my eyes waking
to the essence of you
sun salt and sea
waiting to be known by me

you coax gently
peeling me open
like a late blooming rose
closed against the harshness of the wild

Salty sea water mixed with blood
snow capped giant, glacier water flood

Pine tree roots growing out of his boots

misty rain and rocky shore
his name a necklace my heart wore

He's the road and home,
he settles me though still I roam

my heart wanders no more

The Lover's Tree

Let the moonlight rinse your cares away

let your mind empty but for thoughts of me

lay your head in the milky light

against the trunk of the lover's tree

The night lays heavy

broken only by the breeze

be at peace my love

for that breeze carries me

As the last leaves fall and the night turns cold

when the full moon rises and your heart unfolds

I'll appear in the night before you

and we won't ever be the same

Lay me down and kiss me true

love unfurling the way the old oak grew

carve our names for all to see

that we are bound by the lover's tree