Everyone foraging for the happiness that was always right there to be had.
With unlimited stillness we are all feral, finding home.
For poetry lovers
A Manifesting Practice that takes your whole self into consideration. Virtues + Clarity + Steadiness.
Manifesting is an art and a science—and you have to leave a lot of room for mystery, while upholding your Faith. No one has THE way. Life is complex. But here’s everything I’ve been given from masterful teachers over the years, and practiced myself with some exquisite results.
The first time I’ve spoken about the “living death” I experienced last year—may this help your own heart
This is the first time I’ve publicly spoken about the “living death” I experienced in the Fall of 2018. I went to the darkest place of my being—panic attacks, identity crisis, loss, disillusionment and… incredible awe. GRACE.
SPIRITUALITY IS… Dirty. Obsessive. Deeply concerned. Scabs, shame, transmutation, wet kisses, the holy cross, desperation. Presence. The birth canal. Time bender…
Anxiety and fear, mercy and bliss.
It’s lying to yourself until the needle of Truth pierces your life and stitches you whole.
Spirituality is doing the dishes and looking for your phone.
I hope you’re insatiable.
If you’re on your creative edge, you will continuously want more. True desire is full and insatiable. She is appreciative and ceaseless. She is present and she sees possibility everywhere. This is the divine paradox of intentional creating. You’ll love what you’ve got with all your heart today, and you will be ready for more tomorrow… and the next day.
The Begging Bowl: a poem for love
Eventually, we will all beg for love—proudly.
17 things I did to make the MOST of the year + 4-day workweeks and a poem for loving your life. My December Roundup is here!
17 things I did to make the MOST of the year + 4-day workweeks and a poem for loving your life. My December Roundup is here!
I know the colour of your eyes (A poem for loving your life while you’re aware of eternity.)
I know the colour of your eyes (A poem for loving your life while you’re aware of eternity.)
The Ultimate and Immediate Why
The Ultimate and Immediate Why:
Swallowing fresh water,
inhaling
clean air
through our mouths,
speaking
words of adoration, and
kissing.
I saw a Muslim man roll out his prayer carpet…
I saw a Muslim man roll out his prayer carpet in Union Square park
to prostrate to his god.
People, dogs, pigeons, were passing by his intimacy.
How you listen is how you live. (A poem for being of service.)
You may hear this as an order, an invitation, or as the opportunity of lifetimes.
How you listen is how you live.
Can you hear the women crying?
Can you hear the soil gasping for clean air?
And did you hear that? That’s the sound of a good man asking, How can I serve?
How do you serve?
Pressed against a star (a poem for longing to be home.)
You are worth waiting for,
tall beam of Light.
And I will open the door for you like our lives depend on it.
Thoroughness (a poem for devotion)
I have expressed from my longing and obstacles
the balm of thoroughness,
rare as rose oil,
nothing cures like devotion.
I stroke it on wounds and desires
There was a time when You lived to protect Me. (A poem attending to the oppression of women and the universal longing for communion. For starters.)
There was a time when You lived to protect Me.
The Bright Privilege
Sometimes, my heart is so openI can’t tell if it is a gaping wound or a portal for everything that ever was and ever will be…
Just Love. (My most epic declaration of desires and demands, inspired by Eve Ensler.)
You know what I want? I want JUST LOVE. Something so pure it transmutes my terror of not getting what I want into what I want the most: JUST LOVE…
focus (a poem for sacred prioritizing)
We dance ’round fires
to pray for others to change,
and we change our names
so that a reality we don’t truly want
will let us in the door…
You have no jurisdiction here (a poem for boundary-making)
The outline of my being
shines brighter than
agreements I made before now…
The Chorus (A poem for those of us always trying to get ahead.)
Chorus:
The long time of loud striving
the symbols of success
keeping time in my head
always a quarter b-b-beat behind…
Kundalini rising (A poem for your fire)
I am looking
for a place
to put this fire…
Being each a star
If I ever tell you
that I long for my
Star Home
don’t back away…
choosing feral
That tired beautiful animal in me needed to die,but not like a sacrificial offering…
Come Closer
Desire enchants you to the woods
and has you push through the muck
with the patience of a Lotus.
Come closer.
Search everywhere for your keys.
And then she makes you drive all night, desire,
With no map or insurance.
Empty your belly.
Empty your belly of rage and striving Create! Create! Create! and all the while, be still so you can hear the code of The Beginning.
The Cold Kind of Darkness
A poem, with audio. I never feared the darkness, only the cold that can come with it.
So vast
My love for you
is larger
than any compass could map.
But like a Queen
with the luxury of time and resources…
I know I know you
I can walk down streetsin new cities or be in a stadium waiting for the concert to begin
and I see your face
and I feel
I know you and you and you and you…
Passion over perfection. Love over politics. The Story of Mrs. Mulvey.
I was in a special English class in high school, the one for the word geeks and bookworms. That was me in the front row with big hair and leg warmers, talking Bronte and Shakespeare. Mrs. Mulvey, my English teacher, was on the outside of my teen drama (and there was a lot of drama back then — I left home when I was sixteen), and we rarely spoke out of class, but how she treated me quietly influenced my entire creative career…
you are more (a poem. a prayer.)
you are more than your name your frame your DNA more plenty than all that you have…
a poem for my son
when you were bornmy days were suddenly full
of trees and apples of hope
and the machinations of terror
