are we human, or are we dancer

another week gone like a train you cant catch, or a flight to your sister's wedding that leaves while you're stuck at jfk (snow delay).
another card pulled, relationship, answering a question in a bizarre esoteric advising that i may never grasp.
another chapter of doing nothing but being so preoccupied, pointless right.

when you finally know
be it where to go
who to love
what to fucking contribute to this existence
whatever is sitting at the controls likes to cocktail things up a bit
and throw meteors and mountains, and red seas, at your heart

the storm rolled in during drosha and the sky turned a incriminating black.
winds pushed us toward the smells of shabbes and just as we neared the birds were released cleansing us silly in ecstatic sparkle and skin hugging clothes. ah

disillunsionment with yourself must precede enlightenment
well thank you

labour of love

and so you are there
when the tornado swirls around knocking everything you think you love off its kilter and you remain still

when the dogs are barking and your assignment is due and the racket is a pure orchestration of peace

incorporation of nothingness

remember, yes?

to be, in love

The speckles in the sky
Want nothing else but you
So soon
But yet can’t wait
A guilt almost worth it.
United seems too desirous
Too now
Too pleasing
To wait for right
And respect in You.
Lessons tease
Emotion and ecstasy.
I’ve forgotten and long for teaching
But how can so many hours
Be hummed in passion
When emptying is now
And impulsive.
This is what it means
To be
In love

to be, continued

As much as my mind governs senses
To keep me following numbed
That I that is, that am,
Creates moments of reconnect.
Seen and Saw
Victory only comes after battle
And I wonder if peace is a constant goal
Or where it just is.

I know where is best for I
And all I need
Is constant redevotion
To develop desire
Of place, of people
Of this ONE.

since we swang

Naming comes again but this
I haven’t been able to explain for too long
And don’t want to ever again.
Lost is living
And freedom from the saddled racetrack.
I want to rock on my feet
With my life balancing on my head
And my love flitting around me.
My floating.
This is it
And wherever Ed may find me.

The mosquitoes buzz without landing
Making music in the croaking night.
My cold feet remind me of the ground
And rubies touch gently down
But I forever stare at the skies
Which have become my home
And am the bliss that follows me.

People can read and scoff in fear
Or disbelief which I agree
But this INABILITY has engulfed me
With Mine
And fingers web connecting.
There is no more beginning nor end
But simple NOW
And simply nice.
The pen is propriety
The Power of Know
Is Yes.

evening aarti

The ground shimmers
And tearing my gaze I’m surrounded
By hued shadows
Interrupted by electricity.
The wind roars deafening –
I am embraced by It and crickets.
My shoes squeak and kick soil
As my right foot sickles outward a little.

Boys played cricket on the train-tracked field
To the sun’s setting
And bicylcle bystanders.

I left them now as I left them then
Mezmerized in pages of dates and photographs.
The mosquitoes threaten now
And nets are pulled
Before hair is brushed
And soiled clothes folded neatly.

it had to be you

I no longer crave isolation,
Regeneration alone.
I long for your harmony
For your hands and your sigh
And the wondrously moulded puzzle peace
You keep tied to your heart.
I finally found truth
After wandering and parched.
This is home and abundance.
What magic is budding
And extending its nectar
For little hungry pollinators
To spread further than we can dream.
Infinity is possible
Divinity is proof.

שמע ישראל יה אלוהנו יה אחד

the silence after is exhausted
Following crescended chaos
it lingers tingling
as matted bodies slow breath
and shiver from aftershock
stiffened to move.
the skin is red as divinity strikes surface
and from this, everything.
pleasure is exeriencing eden,
a paradise lost in lie,
fear and poison.
can the act of making love sustain
truth
xoxo