Intens(ity)

the music swells and I'm
feeling
All the love, the joy, and the pain of a life
interrupted
And yet there is a
sign
of hope and love everlasting when you
take
my hand, wrap me in your arms and
speak
in that voice like silk that surrounds and
fills
me with a love that can only be felt
here
where you are, where he is, where music
lives
This extraordinary gift that has been
given
to me through you is simply
indescribable
and there can never be
enough

Curious

Sometimes my thoughts get ahead of me
Like I'll be thinking one something, and my brain decides
To dwell on why it is the word (clairvoyant)
has such a funny sound to it, and what exactly
(clairvoyant) means.

Or I will sit and ponder
What my life would be like if I were a boy.
It would be a very big shame, for if I were one of
those members of the Y chromosomal club, I would miss out
On looking like my mother, or cracking jokes
About how I can still wear training bras.

To You

Whether or not these words reach you
(and really, it's better they don't)
You should know that it's been a long time
(about five years right? Right now I can't think)
But I've held on because I believe that some things
(even if they're hopeless, foolish things)
Are worth the hurt, the tears, the frustration
(and of course those warm fuzzy moments that light up all my insides)
And the time it takes for me to say the things that have been collecting cobwebs
(so old, so repetitive, and yet sweeter like wine the longer you let them lie)
Inside my heart.

Harvest

The farmer stands
On his stretch of land
And raises a callused hand
To his eyes.

There beckons not a sound
But a whisper from the ground
No there isn't but the sound
Of the dirt as it sighs.

He dusts off his shirt
Silently blesses the Earth
Thanks God for the dirt
That takes the seed where it lies.

Essentials

It seems
Silly to
Believe that
You are
Out there
Watching me
And listening
To each
Little care
That passes
Over my
heart.

You lived
Once and
had your
own worries
and now
that you
no longer
worry it
seems arrogant
to assume
that you
are listening
to anything
I say.

But every
day I
talk to
you in
solitude and
it feels
as if
you do
listen, and
answer back
in that
deep, chocolate-y
voice of
yours. I
believe you
hear me
And I
Believe you
Care.

Do You Know?

Do you know how much
It hurts me
When you tuck in on
Yourself and use
The disease
As an excuse not to
Live a full life and let yourself
Be free and happy?

Do you know that
I love you no matter
What but sometimes you make
It hard to love anymore because
It feels like you take
My heart in your hands
And squeeze til it's dry?

Do you know
That you and I
Will someday, maybe soon
Grow apart of ourselves
And this time, this next time
It will probably be for
Forever?

Dreams

Dreams can be funny things. I myself have had some pretty wacko ones in my time, not one of which has been giving a speech in the nude :) . There was one I had recently (not counting the one where Mel Gibson was chasing me on a horse; that happened a few hours after I'd seen Braveheart) that really resonated with me. I personally am a Michael Jackson fan, though didn't really become one until after his death. You know how that goes; you hear all this crappy stuff about a celebrity during their life, and it takes their death for anything positive to be said. Anyway, he was in my dream the other night. We were riding in the backseat of a car, and it was late at night. Rain was battering the windows, so loudly that I couldn't hear the tires on the road. I couldn't see the driver either. I sat on one side of the seat, Michael sat on the other. He looked how he did later in life, small and vulnerable. He met my eyes but said nothing. That's when I recognized the song playing on the radio. It was "Got to Be There", by the Jackson 5, with young Michael leading. We listened for a while, when somehow over the rain I heard him say, "That little boy is lost now." Just those six words. I moved in my seat and laid myself in the crook of his arms, laying my head on his shoulder. We didn't talk any more after that; we just sat and listened to the rain and the hum of the car. I don't know why I dreamed about him that night, but that dream has stayed with me. So many peaceful people have been destroyed by this world, for no reason. Oftentimes we don't see it happening until it's too late. I didn't get to see the beautiful side of Michael until he was gone from this Earth, but I believe what he was trying to do can be continued through us, if we just give it a try.

Flashback

I don't know
If I've ever found you beautiful
Because your walls are crumbling now
Your glass has been shattered
By rocks

But there's something
About you that still tugs at my heart
As I see you now
Empty, silent, and in pieces
The men in yellow hats paying no mind
To what was once hallowed ground

Your halls were once filled with children
With teenagers, parents, teachers, and custodians
That swept and scrubbed you up with so much care
Catching every speck on your marble floors
And dusting every cobweb away

You'll be gone soon
Nothing more than a memory
And a big ugly hole in the ground
You need to go, you are much too old now
A statue from a simpler time that has given up
And is ready to breathe
Its last breath.