Finding Home

You just get used to it. Eventually. That ebb and flow of expectation and disappointment. Sooner or later you begin to memorize the script by heart. You even know when the attempt to change begins. For whatever good intention there is you still find it in your heart to appreciate it because you can't help it. And then you wonder could it be true? The road to hell is indeed full of good intentions. So where are you off to? To hell? Or a heaven of intentions? But again it really is a matter of how much a heart can hold. It's amazing how quickly and slowly a heart can heal. In one instant you feel as if the wind has been knocked out of you and all you see is the world spinning, and in the seconds that follow, that familiar acrid acidic process in your insides, at the pit of your gut takes place ever so slowly. You fail to identify what it is until you realize, "oh its you" --your natural ability to adapt, accommodate, adjust your perspectives and ultimately your expec

Poetry Readings A sacred haven where boys Became men And men turned Into craftsmen Artisans Of words and Emotions The very language Of your hypothalamus the very function Of your left brain Exploding Like Katy Perry's Fireworks Unashamed Unfeterred Unapologetic you hear them Articulate Throes Of sorrow Desperation Of lost loves Of happy endings Of musings That speak of The chaos In their mind Taboo almost And yet it is Taboo That makes it All the more Beautiful Euphoric nostalgic eternal Where women Reveal How cold a fire Can turn And how the heat Can emanate From ice Where spite Is thrown Here and there And yet It is picked up Again one by one Like shards of glass Reattached and turned Into one hilarious Song Of romance And love and frisky Sunsets Singing your Age old pain that ironically Is the prime Ingredient Of your joy Gibran was right

So here we are, on this frayed bench The sun has set And the wind is picking up Not unlike your words Startling Almost like silence And banging cymbals Deafening You are one universe Of contradiction and yet beneath It all The pauses And deep breaths You take Makes Me want to Run my fingers Through your hair Cup your face And tell you Over and over Until you believe it "It's okay." Breathe in Breathe deep The questions, They're there For God knows what And who knows What the hell for You'll find the Answers soon and no, you won't Find it in this place or anywhere else I take your hand Press it to your Wildly beating Chest I say, It's right there. Listen to Rumi Pain has its Mercies And the wound, The wound Is where the Light enters You Just be still Wait, listen Look at me I found you Didn't I? Oh I'm telling you, You'll find yours