don't let me forget
“I want to change the world because it scares me,” I said.
“I know,” he said, with his voice filled with tenderness.
Sometimes I want to forget him and then I remember that moment and my heart smiles.
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grace | love | photography | pleasure | the delicious now
you don't need to say anything
This morning on the bus, I was running my hands through my daughter’s golden tresses and started giving her a scalp massage. As she relaxed, I said, “Mmmm…this is luxury. This is luxurious like– delicious dark chocolate, puppy breath, a spring rain, velvet on my skin, the sun kissing my shoulders at the beach, red…
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what i love…
Last winter, I was leading writing workshops in a women’s homeless shelter. I was going through some papers recently and found this free write I did with the women using the prompt, “What I love about myself”. I wrote this on 1/9/15 and decided to post it because it feels good to read it….
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divine | love | photography | poetry | Uncategorized
true freedom
One Song by Rumi Every war and every conflict between human beings has happened because of some disagreement about names. It is such an unnecessary foolishness, because just beyond the arguing there is a long table of companionship set and waiting for us to sit down. What is praised is one, so the praise is…
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grace | healing | love | photography | self-excavation | the delicious now
need
I haven’t been this sick or this exhausted in a long time. A week ago today, I was caring for my sick daughter and here I am, laying here quietly, letting my daughter be cared for by another and surrendering to this virus that seems to have knocked me down and will let me back…
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divine | love | mystery | photography | poetry | sexuality | the delicious now
love me with deviant innocence
Lover, paint me with your desire! Write your poetry on my flesh– with your teeth. Lover, splash with me in the puddles of life! Explore the landscape of my earth– with your tongue. Lover, play with me with deviant innocence! Write your opus with whispers of song– to my heart. Lover, come to me now…
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divine | healing | inspiration | love | poetry
what is holy
A spoken word piece that I wrote for a performance poetry class at Freehold. A smattering of what I find holy. Here’s the text if you like that sort of thing: Holy is the heart-shaped divet at the top of a mountain in New Mexico and the snowflakes that let me see its outline. That…
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