ANIMA REX, my foundation.

ANIMA REX

My underdeveloped Feminine

There’s the sea

Calm,

She smokes a cigarette alone on a pier

White cropped hair carried in the wind,

Solemn and mysterious,

Curved and sexy.

I see her,

Behind a glass case.

and I, on el otro lado,

I critique her with the janitorial squad.

I listen, I know,

I talk, I don’t listen.

I agree and look out at the sea,

And she Is cradled in my wind

And I am regaining my consciousness

Or my awareness

Sometime. as

Salt on my tongue.

Phoenix Tears

“I think the world now is begging us to let the breaking happen. Within. To mirror and heal the breaking happening all around, without. We are being asked to break. Break Up. Break down. Break out. Shatter. Bleed. You’re on the right track now. The right track to break into radical loving like a thief hungry for soul, ready to serve sweet, dark humanity and the earth’s tangled questions that insist we return her urgent call to let our hearts break into compassionate action.”

                                    TRANSFORMATION 2016  

Neuw Moon, Old Poetry of What Trust Is.... Circa 2009

Right Now, 1:12 pm on a Friday in October of 2009

Right now I am lost in her irises.

They are easy pools of contemplation

That I slip into with a zealousness

of the greatest intensity, but one

pock-marked by my many years of

walking wounded.

In fractions of seconds of minutes

of hours of days of years I’ll

see tribulations.

But I think I’ll always come back to her irises.

And rest.

Drink from the endless gourds of life kept grounded by

her mind.

And she thinks she’s gone,

but she’s not. She’s right

here,

and I am in her irises.