how diamonds are made


There are so many humans entering this planet

Why are we coming

Why are we here

Why do we keep coming

Into this plane of compressed existence

Of push and pull of down and up of right and left

Yes we know there is unity, unitive consciousness and center and radiance beneath it all

Yet we need to go/we need to allow direction/the compass

We need to feel the pressure against our skin and against our heart

We need to vibrate with laughter and tears

With racking sobs and sighs that move our diaphragm quickly and spastically

With deep sighs and moans and soft smiles that float our organs and without effort release our breath

Love is, an ode to Dr. Maya Angelou

LOVE is everything, love is all

Love is what you’re running towards

love is what you’re running from

love is your running

Love is lifting your leg and dropping it

love is the space between the steps

love is your breathing

love is your heartbeat

love is the thing driving your heart beat,

and the silence when the beating has stopped

Love is this cat, right here, right now

the vibration that moves through me

from her purring

Love is when you say

no, no, no, no

Love is the illusion that

you can stop things

Love is the way

the water falls off your chin

love is the pool it came from and falls into

Love is your loudness bursting through

the quiet of this moment

love is the way it rends me

love is the way you notice

Love is that I care what you think

love is that is doesn’t matter to the thing that is

thunk upon, love is the movement towards the idea

Love is you running in a circle

love is your struggle with yourself

love is the manifestation of pain,

love is the curse of the pain

when it is nameless and dropping

love is reaching out, love is at the

end of extension, love is the illusion

of disappearance

Love moves underground, love is the ground

love is above ground

love is the invisible space in the molecules

that make the ground

Love is the firmament, love is the stars

Love is the lesson of love

Love continues

love is the ageless time of one hand meeting another

love is the identity

love is the tongue cleaning the wound.

ODE TO ROTHKO CHAPEL

ROTHKO CHAPEL

There is the space

And there is the void

And there is the watcher

Silent over her charges of night

Protecting the channels

Into void and stillness

Into subconscious leaps

Of monsters and allies

Of yesterday and now

I look up and you are shifted

again, a border

Arises and dissolves on the

Edge of my sight

I ask and I wait

I used to ask and create

And perhaps that is still true

Yet from a place further back

Or maybe further out

The old way used to scream

And cry for attention

The dramatic and theatrical

(do not be distracted by the peaceful and wrathful deities)

I die into the quiet


Medium of now

Discipline at my back

To stay unraveled and not knowing

To not grasp the pieces and braid them together

The guardian she watches me still.