someone else

there is someone else who lives inside her flesh these days
she is not the same person who used to dwell there
time has changed so many things so many times
that she changed, too.

she could have been one of those many women who became angry and bitter
but she didn't

instead her heart softened and she became more sensitive
life and death have taught her what actually matters
and that is only love and the memories made with those we love
she understands that memories are sometimes all you are left with

this woman who lives inside her now takes nothing for granted
she loves more deeply, cries more easily
and carries a sadness that has become a permanent part of her

every time her heart was broken it broadened the wound
and her vulnerability
so if you love her you need to love her completely
because that's the only way she knows to love you

5-29-20

she is all these things

thursday night thoughts (this ain't no dress rehearsal)

authenticity is worth striving for but it's not easy to be honest and real.  no, it's much easier to bow to the dictates of society and what others expect and think of us of us than it is to live according to what we desire and what truly speaks to our soul.  in the end if we do not seek our own path we will have failed to satisfy anyone, especially our self.  
our individual journey through life is ours to decide and to travel and therein lay the gift.  

if we do not choose for ourself, but instead allow others to choose for us, we deny ourselves the the full and unique experience of life.  we get one shot and a limited amount of time.  unfortunately we often wait until this, that or something else happens or changes or we change or someone makes a choice for us. we wait, thinking the time will come when things magically get better or it gets easier to walk away from the life, the marriage, the job, or whatever it is that we feel obligated to or afraid to leave.  then before you know it time has run out and we accept our unfortunate fate, one we actually chose because we failed to choose otherwise. "to not choose is to choose."

no, this is not a dress rehearsal.  this is your life.  

the holiest place

...is not inside a temple, a church or synagogue
it is not even fully found in the deep wood
or vast ocean

the holiest place, the sacred place, the holy of holies
is found in a relationship

we do not have to build a temple
or seek god elsewhere

our bodies are the temple
let us worship there

smc
5-21-20

this woman

i have hated this woman at times...probably more times than i've loved her.
i have fed her stories and lies about herself, told her she wasn't good enough or simply not enough.  sometimes i still do.

i've allowed others to treat her poorly, to break her and make her feel inadequate.  she has torn down walls and battled for others who failed to appreciate or stand up for her.

she has been beaten, abandoned had her spirit broken and her light dimmed, and despite this she still rises and loves deeply and believes she has light inside her.

this woman has had to be strong enough to carry on time and again while paralyzed by fear.

she has struggled to forgive herself for mistakes made as a mother, a partner, a friend.

this woman has a dirty mind, a smart mouth, scars and she keeps secrets...hers and other's.

she had done good things and bad things.
there are those who love her, those who like her and those who don't, but she's ok with that. 

this woman spends too much time in her mind and in her pajamas.
she seldom wears make-up but wears her gray hair like a crown.

she is who she is.  she won't pretend to be anyone she isn't. 

sometimes she is silly, but often she is sad. life and circumstance have made her this way, so when she smiles you can trust it's genuine.

she knows she's not perfect, in fact broken in some ways, but she has worth and she is still standing.
this woman knows she's a warrior even though some days she tires of the fight.

this woman is lover, life giver, and embodies strength and persistence.  she is a realist yet a dreamer, a wisdom seeker and a healer.  

you can love her or not love her, but if she loves you she will love all of you with her whole heart.  

this woman is a queen.  she just needs reminded sometimes.

this woman is me.

if i could

i would say i love you
but more than that
i would show you

i would tell you stories
and do silly things
just to hear you laugh


i would never be careful with my kisses.
never

i would make you soup
whenever you said
"soup sounds good."

i would paint my toes
in rainbow colors
and wear my hair up
just the way you love it

i would put on silky, lacy things
just to see your reaction
before i seduce you

i would teach you things
and you would teach me
and together we would become more
than we are separately

i would love you to sleep
with a night of passion
then love you awake
in the morning
with hot sweet coffee and kisses

when you least expect it
i would sneak up behind you
wrap my arms around you
and press myself against your back

if i could
i would weave myself into your flesh
so you would know
how loving you feels

5-17-20
for J

in these moments

the way you watch me cross my bare legs as i sit at the kitchen table

the way you look like a dream lying naked on my bed awaiting my company

you draw me close, as close as you can, face to face, my full breasts against your skin

words are not needed.  they pour forth from your eyes like honey

running my fingers through your hair, pulling you in to taste your lips, you yield to me

your hand glides across my hip making its way up my fleshy inner thigh.  i yield to you

(and i would a million times more).

my fingers wrap around your silken hardness feeling the desire swell in you.  wanting it. wanting you

pleasure building.  perpetual ecstasy in the wanting, the giving, the receiving

we fall into each others eyes as i rise and fall to your touch

there is no conclusion in this meditation.  there is no need for an ending

we are here now, aware of ourselves.

we notice and unite our bodies and spirits.  heaven and earth become one.

5-12-2020

for J

the power of the crone (the wise woman)

Author: Maya Luna

If you want to be a bad ass sexually empowered woman, embrace your inner hag.
Thats right.
The crone. The ancient old woman. The witch. The hag.
The crone archetype is an aspect of the feminine not exactly associated with sexuality.
Women groom themselves to be girls. The younger the better. 
Paint those lips red and blush those cheeks like you are wet and ripe for impregnation.
Make them believe you are in perpetual ovulation.
Make them hard. Make them desire you
Get that face lift. Suck in that belly. Bat those lashes.
Guess what.
The crone doesn't give a fuck.
And that is her power.
She embraces her spider lines and swinging, sagginesss.
After all, this is what life does to the body of a woman...eventually!
Does that make you uncomfortable? Would you rather not see?
Her secret threatens to corrupt you.
She can make you wild.
She can reveal to you your power.
Your volcanic senseless holy
Once she opens her mouth, the jig is up.
They tell you she is crazy.
Dangerous because she has broken out of that jail cell you call restrictions.
How would you have sex if you didn't give a fuck about how pretty you look?
Or how flat your stomach is?
The crone is not an object of desire.
She is free to claim her own desire.
In a world that praises women for being objects of desire.
Where the more lust you can seduce the more value you possess, the crone is laughing with that cackle that only women of power have.
She does not possess the enchanting beauty of the maiden or the fertile reproductive juices of the mother.
She no longer bleeds. She no longer bares children.
Her sex no longer waxes and wanes with the moon, gaining and draining energy with each passing tide.
She is full.
The portal to her blood has been sealed.
She is drinking in the nectar. She is bathing in its luminous darkness.
Her sex is a diamond pressed and polished by years of experience and wisdom.
She has passed through all the phases of initiation as a woman.
That heavy web of social conditions all feminine creatures are baptized into.
She is unraveling herself from these webs.
She has liberated her sex from all their stories.
She is making it to the other side.
Freeing herself.

7th week thought stream

the morning of april 24th, 2020 (approximately)


a full 8 hours of drug induced sleep.  thank you dr. george.  yet i do not feel as refreshed as i might from a summer's eve douche.

rain drips from the awning above the kitchen window.

another morning to ponder as i sip instant coffee and battle the cat for space at the kitchen table.

the last time i douched was after i compromised my integrity with a man i didn't love.  it was an act of self-care...the douche that  is.

"dear vagina, i am sorry i allowed someone who didn't value your sacredness to enter.  it hasn't happened since and i promise it won't happen again.  but you know that don't you?"

as i sit, i finally concede to the cat's persistence as she sprawls across my notebook, to indulge her and myself in a tactile experience.

outside the window the maple tree that lives next door has small green leaves beginning to fill it's previously barren branches.  a train rumbles as it passes through town several blocks away.

i am hoping the wind dies down to allow a comfortable walk this morning.

the wind chimes outside my back door sing.  i wonder if they annoy my neighbors.  i don't care, i only wonder.

yesterday on my first walk of Spring i noticed all the alleyways i could traverse, which made my walk more interesting.  one can walk down (or up, depending upon how one looks at it) a sidewalk and see how the neighborhood presents itself.  but wandering through alleys offers a glimpse of what is behind the facade.  instead of trimmed hedges and pretty flowers there are rusty gas grills, piles of rotting timber, and remnants of last years gardens.

it has been 7 weeks in isolation.