Thursday, March 22, 2012

who are you?


Who are you?
Of what I've made of love's not ever been like this before
And outside of what love once was is nay and all the more
Transcending distance, time and space, it's opened up my eyes
Touched by something mortal's yearn until the day they die
I have but cannot hold, yet held by that which lies in dreams
And though "they" say it cannot be, it's "realer" than it seems.
Who are you?

You breathed upon this flicker, and turned it to a flame
And who can now contain such madness, many call insane?
Yet as a gale within the night that plays on my heart strings
And hence the music of my soul is filled with what you bring
For I am neither worthy of this grace that touched my frame
More blessed than all the angels, yet i long to know your name.
Who are you?

A missing piece to a puzzle? A half that makes a whole?
Endless searching; realms unknown, this mate of my soul
Read between the lines, you bare the name of such Sweetness
Longing for soft lips that kiss and breasts of tenderness
Destiny that calls to you thus calls me forth to sing
Soon happy ever after lying underneath my wing.
Who are you?

Lover or muse or mate of my soul?
An illusion more real than all in this world.

Tuesday, January 24, 2012

unmasked.

















You people wear your masks each day afraid to show the fragile
Do you even know who you are?
You don't know
All you know is what they told you to be.
You're so predictable, I know your life before you live it
Hopeless, hopeless, hopelessly lost
Always looking for love. Love always looking for.
It can't be grasped or held
Exhausted from the endless search
Love comes from... Where does it come from?
Who is it's Creator?
Ahh... the Creator!
Find the Creator and find Love?
You people are so mechanical
I know your next move. Boring!

You people wear your masks each day afraid to show the fragile
Do you even know who you are?
You don't know
All you know is what they told you to be.


photography by Bobbi Jo Brooks.



the story unmasked.

there's a story behind this poem. i lost a treasure and now it has been found. i was so young when i wrote this! it had to be late fall in 1997... you see, i was dancing with the Fort Lauderdale Ballet Classique and remember being at a dress rehearsal for the Nutcracker performance that we performed seasonally as is accustomed around that time of year. i parked my car in the auditorium's parking lot, and then while commencing with hours of rehearsals and run-through's, there was some commotion among the crew and stage managers backstage. There was talk about a car being broken into and whose it was. word travels fast and when i came outside, the window to my Mitsubishi Eclipse was indeed smashed on the passenger side, and "they" took some of my most valuable items, or so "they" thought. in fact what was taken would not be of much value to them at all, but to me, priceless!

i left my vintage light brown leather bowling bag in the passenger seat. the contents were irreplaceable, but not what the criminals expected. my "book" was in that bag, also known as a model's portfolio - gone! the photos were amazing and i am still proud to have worked with some of the greatest photographers in the industry. the only good thing is that most of the photos were already saved digitally and could be replaced. i also carried a portable dvd player around that i used for possible presentations with my music. that too was gone, but not much of a concern to me. but the most dear item to me that was taken was my journal that held in it all my creative thoughts and poetry, lyrics and anything else that came to my creative mind. this was my treasure! i can imagine these thieves thinking that they found a bag that contained money or credit cards, or something that could be sold on the streets for a few hundred dollars, but when they looked in, they probably just threw it all away disappointed from all that effort. but out of all the inconvenience, my journal and the fact that it may be gone forever devastated me. i didn't want to even think that i placed it in that bag, but deep down i knew i'd lost it and was praying that i was careless in this one instant. the only thing on my mind was to get home and find this book safe. searching all around i knew it was gone, but i still looked in different places where i could have possibly left it, still hoping that i didn't do what i know i did.

it was this poem, now named "unmasked" that had always haunted my conscience. i so loved the first line imprinted on my mind: "You people where masks each day afraid to show the fragile". i wanted to revisit this thought more and to craft this lost treasure and bring it to its fruition, but i knew it was now lost and gone forever and i would never be able to remember exactly what i said. i had the option to rewrite this poem and it could go in many different ways, but what was a trying to say at such a young age and why? and how could i replace the essence of what was now lost? and now looking back i realize it was a profound opening statement that i still cherish today!

i've been in Miami for some time now, cleaning out my whole life and the things in it. i stumbled upon this old journal given to me by a girlfriend a while back on my birthday - she writing the first entry, encouraged me to write and fill it with all my creative ideas. somehow i must have copied this poem from the journal that had been stolen. it's funny now, because i've looked through this before desperately that it might be there and for years the pages that contained it had missed my eyes. after all these years, i have found my lost treasure!

usually i make major edits on my writings that i publish, crafting the words, shapes and punctuation. but in this case i have generally left this as is, in it rawest form. i've only made small changes with line structure and punctuation. it has not been reworked. the only major word change is in the first line where i replaced the word "every" with "each" as it had been rehearsed in my mind for years. for me it shows a young mind at work exploring topics that are still important to me that still need to be fleshed out and possibly reworked in the future. but until then, i hope this poem does all it can to those who read it

Wednesday, December 7, 2011

love/hate.

Love.
Hate.
I hate Love.
Probably because it grasps me so and won't let go.
Loose me from your grasp!
It chokes me with a warmth that soothes with
Such, sweet, agony.
It's pleasure is my pain - hurting to perfection.
There's nothing left - loving me relentlessly
Loving me to death.
My life was in you.
Tempting me with tastes that torment when taken away,
But I am here. Naked. Shivering before you.
Cold winds hiss, delighting in spite to crush my will.
Yet I won't succumb to ungodly rule.
I've come to realize, these lies but only speak the truth
Of what you fear in me. Fear in me!
You hear in me, though I do not say a word;
And still I reach my arms to you and will not let you go.
I will not let you go.
Hate me? Maybe so.
I will... not!
Love.

Wednesday, November 2, 2011

this... may it be.

I'm writing to, and for you tonight.
Because this... is all I have.
And even so, the blade I'm given
Cannot cut the depths
Of how I feel.
And I don't want to feel... this!
So I 'm writing to you now.
I will not write of her - not yet,
For in those... words - if they
Exist or could be ever uttered,
Would bring about my very death
In one instant. A good death!
That I am moving closer -
Take in all of these... words.
I've said too much and far too less
And need not make
Of what others call "sense".
But those... who have been touched by
The essence masked within
The craft of what I claim to be,
Know the love inside of me
Flirts within, but lies outside of what
This... mind can barely fathom!
I give my all and nothing simply because I am
As much, not less I want to be; but
Daily find myself falling - failing at every
Attempt.
This... is the life for me?

In this... I pray a seed is planted
Of what this... love should be.

Wednesday, October 12, 2011

presence.

I stand in the Presence of what I've been searching
Feeling only now that, maybe it's always been there
What now? My body trembles... trembles.
Confused as to if it be delight or fear
I am addicted in an instant, yet bear no guilt
And crave a fix of what I am already feeding
Before I've had my full, I am begging for a fill.
It's this same drug that I'm forever pleading:
"More, give me more. I want more!"
And then this voice... gently whispers

Saturday, October 1, 2011

night moon.

Night Moon, I call on you to sing!
Sing a song as I lay down awaiting dreams.
Tell of adventures from times long ago
Of heroes fighting for love and a place where souls can grow.
Night Moon, it's the sweetness of your voice that delights
My heart to thump in anticipation of dark nights.
And we are one. United with you in each day most well spent
Pushing for dreams as I dream of your song
That no ears have heard like this before.
Sing to me Night Moon!
Sing your song to me again once more.

Wednesday, September 14, 2011

being.

Why was I born? To carry this burden...
Fitting nicely on my back.
Heap on!
Took my vow - nah go bow!
Just ask me how? Secrets I cannot know.
But I know, relatively speaking, that
Time is no master of mine.
Where am I to go in this jungle of brick and stone?
I roam as a king without a throne
But i am not alone. I am not alone.
Convince me against my convictions
That I do not speak the truth!
Otherwise, we are all living a lie.
I've given up all within my very being
And yet still I love... more than I could fathom.
Being.
That's all I have (at least right now)
And share with you. Do you feel... me?
It may not be much, but I give.
It is everything.
Isn't it?