Fear of Possession

They say I disappear.

I can be “Intimidating”

Not just give you the cold shoulder,

But can fucking freeze you out.

You see, my default is rather feline.

Though I yearn for companionship,

I am quite content, satisfied and fulfilled being alone.

And yet…

Sometimes when I lift my eyes in your direction,

the insatiable hunger of fire can suddenly

flash and lap you up in its heat.

It threatens to burn everything in its wake

as my eyes dance over you

like a cat toying with its prey.

So I try to spare you,

try to keep my energy contained.

But I admit at times it escapes in a moment of carelessness

and flickers like flame.

Sometimes I get so tired of holding

this raging passion under my skin,

that when I think I’ve met a worthy match,

I long to let her out to play.

But please don’t be fooled by my flirtatious dance.

Know that I will never let you own me.

So don’t try to bridle me,

or put me in any fucking stall.

I don’t want your ring or your name.

And certainly need no hero.

If I feel the heat of your brand,

I will smile and nod

as I gracefully evade your grip.

Skittish and frisky,

I’ll simply prance away.

Though I sometimes

tire of dancing alone,

miss the warmth of body heat in my bed,

I prefer the loneliness of being alone,

for loneliness is much more painful

while pacing the fence line of a failed relationship

gazing longingly at the open green outside.

I’m not sure I’ll ever be ready to be contained.

The Word

Is there power in a word? 

Could it hold the power of creation?

Do we speak our way into existence? 

The Christians say:

In the beginning was the word and the word was GOD. 

Toltec shamans say:

Be impeccable with your word. 

Because it’s how we define our world. 

How we define ourselves. 

If so, we should be careful with the labels we use. 

Careful about the stories we tell, of ourselves and others. 

For our mouths can heal or maim.

Be magical incantations or angry weapons. 

Which do we choose? 

I’ve often wondered why we knock each other down rather than build each other up.

My son laughs at me when I ask why there aren’t video games of how many people you help and inspire rather than how many you can shoot and kill?

But really, why pay homage to the hatred, give our attention to the fear eating our world?

And why do we want to lend our words to those of the oppressors?  

Why do we do their work for them? 

Make it easy to defeat us? 

Make us question ourselves, doubt and divide each other. 

Why do we repeat their mantra that CRUEL is powerful? 

It seems to me we’ve already lost the war when we destroy ourselves to prove ourselves. 

But then again,

We’re the ones who have given those words their power: bitch, cunt, whore…

We’ve loaded them with their meaning. 

What if we simply stripped them of their meaning? 

The whole structure implodes and crumbles…

But then I’ve denied the power of the Word. 

And without the Word, I am nothing.

Chimes

The wind is singing to me,

sacred and sweet.

I keep thinking I will wake,

and find myself dreaming.

But instead, you reach out your hand,

silently reminding me

to take another leap.

With each step, walls tremble.

Shatter into a thousand reflections.

Leaving nothing but turquoise sky.

I’m dizzy from the freedom

I was trained never to see.

Reclaim my birthright.

Sing a liberation song.

Not some misguided homage

to an arbitrary nation or religion,

but to the simple miracle of being alive.

Breath, the great equalizer.

Air shared and mingling,

roots intertwined.

Open palms stretch to the heavens.

Choose me. 

Choose life. 

Choose wings.

When I do,

You are there.

Eyes, a burning fire.

Blazing through illusions,

strata accumulated over millennia,

and blown away like loose sand.

My body is kindling,

offered to an open flame.

We walk on water.

Dive through air.

Laugh through solid rock.

Because we do not hold on to injury.

Refuse to be broken.

Claim our ancestry from before time began.

No rings to bind.

No ties to strangle.

No forms to sign.

Just a simultaneous melting,

fluidly melding into one.

You are the nest I return to,

but also the form of clouds as I soar.

A permeable essence,

where questions lose shape

and morph into knowing.

And doubts dissolve

into a smile.

TEACHER

I know I am supposed to be your teacher

And when I was a kid that meant a thick wall divided us

El río profundo para nunca cruzar

But in 10 years

it is you who have molded me.

Chipped away at that muro

With laughter and amor

Questions and creativity

Mischief and mistakes.

You push me to define myself.

To set my boundaries

but also to learn to bend.

Sending down my roots

deep beneath the surface of what you see.

Challenging me to expand,

to make myself large,

to embrace you in your myriad of forms.

You who have faced death, disappointment and loss

and yet persevered.

You who take risks,

left it all on the field, the stage, the test.

You who hesitate and poke at the world

we pass down.

You inspire me to stretch my branches

tall and wide.

To shield you with a protective shade

so you can grow strong enough
to endure the heat beyond these walls.