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Oct. 16th, 2008 @ 07:46 am the amazing poetry of david whyte
i found out yesterday
that i need a ct scan, and a needle biopsy
at almost the same time
someone sent me this poem...


All the True Vows

By David Whyte
(1955 - )



All the true vows
are secret vows
the ones we speak out loud
are the ones we break.

There is only one life
you can call your own
and a thousand others
you can call by any name you want.

Hold to the truth you make
every day with your own body,
don't turn your face away.

Hold to your own truth
at the center of the image
you were born with.

Those who do not understand
their destiny will never understand
the friends they have made
nor the work they have chosen

nor the one life that waits
beyond all the others.

By the lake in the wood
in the shadows
you can
whisper that truth
to the quiet reflection
you see in the water.

Whatever you hear from
the water, remember,

it wants you to carry
the sound of its truth on your lips.

Remember,
in this place
no one can hear you

and out of the silence
you can make a promise
it will kill you to break,

that way you'll find
what is real and what is not.

I know what I am saying.
Time almost forsook me
and I looked again.

Seeing my reflection
I broke a promise
and spoke
for the first time
after all these years

in my own voice,

before it was too late
to turn my face again.
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Sep. 25th, 2008 @ 07:32 am coda to the rubicon
but on this day
i am coming to get my things
and the magic incantation i am quietly uttering
is
i
am
leaving
and so it is done
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Sep. 8th, 2008 @ 04:52 pm The Rubicon
‘A limit that when exceeded, or an action that when taken, cannot be reversed’

On such a morning as this
Ringing loudly in its’ ordinary bland noise
Garbage trucks clanging in the alley
Traffic noise
Sounding vaguely like some mechanical ocean

Running deep within hidden channels
Knowledge coursing through veins
And blood
Decisions hanging on threads of fragile steel
Seemingly so ordinary
Are you coming to get your things
you said
No I said
I’m not
And so it is decided
Waters of rushing dramatic liminality
Crossed seemingly without effort
With a sideways glance
Oh
You said

What is it in you
He said
Frowning over his oh-so-psychologist glasses
That cannot recognize
When you give yourself away
You’re a cheap date
My friend
He smiles
You do not get
That you deserve more
You give yourself away
But
I say
What if
I say
No
You must not give yourself away

Upon this day
We have seen her
Fawn-like
Dappled coat cast silently
Blended with protective layers of green
Hidden
As gentleness often is
On the other side of that rushing river
Stones slapping against angry current
Too slippery to cross unaided
Is the sacred vessel
Who knows
She is untouchable
Pure
And deserves happiness which comes
Without blood
Somewhere across that endless aching
River
That has no bridge
One deer pauses to drink there only in shadow
Iphigenia eternally fleeing her father’s blade
Strike
Hot
Be Klytemnestra
Who killed her daughter’s killer
Because purity
And hope
And trust
Had been removed from the world

Across that river
There is a time
And a place
Where all of us
Are enough
All of us deserve
Love
None of us has to die
To discover our value
Or that we would be missed
Decisions are not always born in blood
But in time
And nature’s call is not always the jarring voice of the raven
Saying
Away
Run away
Forebear
And forlorn
You are not welcome here
But the tangled happy threads
Of a threadbare
Careworn
Life
Wrapped inexorably around us
Not to be denied
Not to be forsaken

Say yes
To that contract
Decide if and when
Caesar’s boundary must be crossed
Few things in this life will require that voyage
Death almost certainly will
But that ship is not ours to steer
Solely
We belong not just to ourselves
But to those moments of darkest decision
Where between
Known
And
Unknown
Our hands let go of the trapeze bar
And we are thrown
Into stark
Beautiful
Terrible
Magic space
Where our words
Become flesh
And our deeds
Change fabric of life
For ourselves
And countless
Nameless
others

It does not work
If we think we will survive
We do not enter the River
Wondering what is on the other side
As much as
We have explored already
This side
And found it either wanting
Or too much
As we ourselves have always been told
We are either wanting
Or
Too much

Cross this then
Burn the last remaining ship
That can return you
If this must be done
If Iphigenia dies
At her father’s hand
Know why it must be done
Why it needs doing
Utter those words
No I’m not leaving
An incantation
Which will throw us
Headlong into a different life
One life
Must die behind us on shore
Next life
Across the water
Remains out of reach
Drink then
From these waters
Emerge from shadow
And fear nothing
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Jun. 2nd, 2008 @ 02:36 pm i'm the Magician
The What tarot card resembles you Test
Your Score: The magicianYou scored 65 change, 81 wellbeing, 73 wisdom, and 59 truth


The magician represents the conscious mind. With focus on an idea or goal, the conscious mind sets into action these ideas and brings them forth to the material world. The magicians hands are stretched forth, one to the sky holding a wand, and the other pointing to the ground below. This is suggestive that as is "as above, so below". The table in front of him has all the tools to make this possible. The wand, cup, sword, and pentacle, which are representative of all the suits to the tarot cards. The mage has an undergarment of pure white, showing his pure wisdom and is held shut by the serpent around his waist. The outer garment is red, symbolic of desire and passion, which has no belt holding it shut so it can be removed if necessary. The flowers in the garden represent things as well. The red roses are symbolic of desires, and the white lilies represent pure thought, untainted by desire. This card is under the vibration of the number 1.

some extra words:

taking action
doing what needs to be done
realizing your potential
making what's possible real
practicing what you preach
carrying out plans
producing magical results
using your talents

acting consciously
knowing what you are doing and why
acknowledging your motivations
understanding your intentions
examining the known situation
concentrating

having singleness of purpose
being totally committed
applying the force of your will
feeling centered
setting aside distractions
focusing on a goal

experiencing power
making a strong impact
having vitality
creating miracles
becoming energized
feeling vigorous
being creative
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May. 20th, 2008 @ 08:06 pm okay, one last poem. but i had help writing it...
so i followed my 3 year old around for about 5 minutes, just listening to everything she said...


Lessons From a 3 Year Old May 2008

Anja
I wanna go open
Bingo
Say
I wanna
(kaia)

Young one
Too young to know
Not all of your wants
Will come true
Call them out anyway
As loud as you can
Time enough later to find out
How the world works for those
Who forget those simple words
I want
(amy)

Go Baby
Way-Yo
Way-Yo
Huh?
No fall
(kaia)

No fall baby girl
May all your falls be small enough
That we can catch you
At least for awhile
Until you learn to catch yourself
And later decide when and if it’s worth the leap
(amy)

I want
To watch a movie
I wanna watch a movie!
I wanna watch a movie!
I wanna watch a movie!!
(kaia)

May there always be time at
The end of the day
For fun
For joy
For learning about the rest of the world
Or just giving parents those ten beautiful minutes
To sit on the couch, blinking sleepily,
Kissing the morning into awakeness
(amy)

Anja
I want up
Anja
Up
Oh, sorry
(kaia)

Ah
The three year old
Who knows how to balance wants
And needs for love
With awareness and understanding of others
You could teach us
Could you not
(amy)

Uppy
Way-Yo
Way-Yo

This your Cherokee war-cry
So similar to how you call out your own name
Before you do something you’re afraid of
Quietly whispering ‘kaia kaia kaia’
Before you test your own bravery
(amy)

Go bicycle!
(kaia)

And we must always have motion
And power
And an ability to transform and transport ourselves
We the women of the world
Who give birth and nurture those who will
Change the world
(amy)

Anja
I want mushrooms
I want mushrooms
I lika my bed
(kaia)

Rest small girl
Full belly
Warm sheets
Bathed serenely in the warmth
And safety of home
We all lika our beds
And our homes
And our lives
Short fleeting beautiful sparks of luminescence
That they are
(amy)


By Amy & Kaia
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May. 15th, 2008 @ 01:51 pm how common am i...? oh dear

HowManyOfMe.com
LogoThere are
3,291
people with my name
in the U.S.A.
How many have your name?

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May. 14th, 2008 @ 04:29 pm so...i seem to have run my course
this journal was originally
a way for me to post poems
get things out and try to metabolize them
and i've done that
have had a year of crazy poetry writing
and now am torn
the only way i ever was able to write
was because i told myself that no one would ever see the words that came out
and before now
they haven't
and now find myself changing
wanting to move toward an audience that never existed before
for what? for whom? why??
and i realize
as i wrote my last one
that i've come full circle
and have been essentially distilling and hammering down
the same images and ideas
and so must consider that i'm done
i usually don't write terribly much
when things are going well
but mostly when i've fallen into darkness
and am mapping the terrain in order to find my way back
or to an entirely new place
and now i find
that instead of freeing me
my poetry
or any obligation i might have to its' call
keeps me from living fully in my own wild and precious life
(thanks mary oliver)
in much the same way
that those who tote a camera along
even to something like close up whale encounters
block themselves from it in their futile attempts to capture it
the picture never being what the experience was
the poem never being what the process has been
i'd rather drop the camera and look in awe
without shield, barrier or distraction
upon the real, living, breathing world
complete with salt and sun and occasional sprays of whale snot
my poems have always helped me
and distanced me
from myself
which i no longer have need of...

so...
i don't even know to whom i am speaking
the ether out here
and perhaps it will change for me
but until i have new words
or images battering their way out of me
i'm content to have done
be free
let go
and be let go of
and just live
for is that not what we're all about?
i'm going away
and leaving
my own self-revelation
and need to be known, seen, tapped into
in the hands of others
who must walk their own paths
and to all those i say
luck
peace
freedom
goodbye
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May. 12th, 2008 @ 09:38 am jolly good...
happy to be my favorite englishwoman; almost as happy about batman being #2, frankly...so, i'm a mix of a gun-toting englishwoman, a nocturnal dark crusader, and a drunken pirate...that sounds about right...

cheers, all.

Created by: Ian24601

Quiz results:

Which Action Hero Would You Be? v. 2.0
You scored as a Lara Croft
A thrill-seeking, slightly unscrupulous, tough-as-nails archaeologist, Lara Croft travels the world in search of ancient relics perhaps better left hidden. She packs two Colt .45s and has no fear of jumping off buildings, exploring creepy tombs, or taking on evil meglomaniacs bent on world domination.
Lara Croft
83%
Batman, the Dark Knight
75%
Captain Jack Sparrow
71%
Maximus
67%
Neo, the "One"
67%
William Wallace
63%
Indiana Jones
58%
El Zorro
58%
The Terminator
54%
James Bond, Agent 007
50%
The Amazing Spider-Man
33%

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Apr. 15th, 2008 @ 09:47 pm patterns
ah yes
i try to find meaning and sense
in everything i do
a pattern
to explain why things happen
so i can go on
and try to control my world
but sometimes
there is no pattern
there is only hurt
and love
and pain
and things not going how you'd expect
and the sneaking suspicion
that it will all make sense years from now
if only you could see it clearly
yet i know
i'm on a path
and i've pulled people to me
who are wise
and good
and helpful
i only hope i can understand
what they have to teach me in time
and that i'm there for them when
they really need me to be
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Mar. 24th, 2008 @ 01:46 pm so, apparently i'm a little dark
Current Mood: exhausted
cause i keep reading other people's stuff
and it's cheerful
i guess i'm using this space as a place
to do whatever i need
and lately?
it's been to purge a lot of stuff

this whole past year for me
has been about the destruction of the old
giving way to the new
sounds fun
until you really really feel as though
you've destroyed so much
you're not a person anymore
but a collection of old stories you no longer wish to tell

so...
i've let some of them be for now
and i have some new stories to tell
stories about how lucky i am to have people in my life who email me
or drop by unexpectedly to make sure i'm ok
and former lovers who still speak to me
and a dog with white feet and yummy toes
and 3 year olds who say my name with joy and laughter, along with many words for poop

i feel exhausted
and empty in that kind of 'can't do anything else, it's not up to me' way right now
my mother is very very sick
and scared, can't breathe
choking, crying and coughing blood
and i'm mad at myself for not being braver
for being angry and tired and pissed off at my brothers
but i promised her
she wouldn't be alone
so...
uh oh
darkness again
i keep catching that train to heavy-ville...

it's been a helluva week
thank the gods i'm not in school right now
not sure how i'm going back
and that, sports fans,
is about as cheerful as i get right now
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Mar. 18th, 2008 @ 08:45 am Ah, insomnia
Dormez 3/2/08

Spit out
The poison
Choke back the rest
Quick here it comes again

Beloved mistress of sleep
You disown me
But claim everyone else
You are my first dance
With
Infidelity
You betray me
Embrace everyone but me
Have I not deserved you
Have I not lived without you
Long enough?
Do I not auger
Your comfort
Your deathly fingers
Dreams
If only of despair
Can I not do
What children are born
Knowing how to do
How long will
I wander
The night time
Peering in at the windows of
Everyone else’s life

Take me
Or don’t
Fine
Don’t
I don’t need you anyway
When you do finally come for me
Better make it stick
Better make it real enough
Good enough
Deep enough
Hard enough
True enough
To take me down all the way

For I am forever doomed here
Cut off from almost
Everyone else
With only you
To look forward to
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Mar. 13th, 2008 @ 09:54 pm Gun Oil
Gun Oil 2/3/08


Bitch
Stupid filthy bitch
Knocking over the yellow candle-stick
In the basement

Do it again
He says
Hand raised
Eyes glittering sickly
Again

Spinning around
Caught by the neck
Like a deer in a snare
Hard cylinder
Shoved cold
Against tiny
Eight year-old teeth

Gagging
Spitting
Silent
Don’t move
Breathe
Look
Just disappear

Do it
You bastard
Just do it

Why does an eight year-old girl
Know about words like
Bitch
Cunt
Bastard
Why
Why not
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Mar. 13th, 2008 @ 09:53 pm Parent-Teacher Conference
Parent-Teacher Conference 2/3/08


So bright
So smart
They said
Voracious reader
Loquacious talker
Soccer player
So.
Bright
So?

He feeds on us
You see
Harvests our fear
Reaps the honey of our
Agonized sobs
Drinks our brightness
Gulping greedily
Stealing our sleep from us

It is just as well
In her dreams she flies
Away from her attackers
But always falls
And gives up

Runs under the pear tree
While horse-sized spiders
Claw at her
Gnashing filthy pincers in
Thirsty rage
Back and forth
Ceaselessly
She runs in her dreams
Under the arachnid gauntlet
Better that
Than go into the house again

Brightness cannot save you
Dreams cannot help you
He will always find you
You must find a way to fly
And not give up
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Mar. 13th, 2008 @ 09:52 pm Night Raids
Night Raids 2/3/08

Fingers clamped over mouth
Silent eyes wide, head shaking
Belly crawl, ‘quiet, like an indian’
Past the dark burning black star
Icy
Wary
Ready
All she had to do was follow him
Safely past
Like so many brotherly games
This one practiced
Trained for
Scuttling silently on belly
She did her best to please, to be perfect
To avoid detection from
The seething snake-mass
Of sparking rage
God-/father
Tearing up
Flesh light love
Eating everything around him
Cramming that empty star-hole
Full of life he can never have
Love he can never feel
Fear which feeds him
From children he will never know
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Mar. 13th, 2008 @ 07:48 am New Year's Day (1985)
New Year’s Day (1985)

You can’t do this
She screamed
Before they shoved
The snake-like rubber tube
Down her sobbing throat
Extracting 14 years of bile
Poison
All in one violent draught

Jesus the nurse said
Lifting one dead white hand
She tried to cut her wrists too
Could have done more damage
With my own fingernails
She sneered

My god my god why
She screamed
Silently
Helpless to stop the tableau
Unfolding below
You can’t do that to her
Don’t you see
You can’t rip open her shirt
Show her breasts like that
Put a shock right on her heart
My god how can you treat her that way
She’s only a child
Oh god those hands
Those dead white hands
Are mine
She breathed
Choking in air as cold
And heavy as ice from a frozen lake

Gasping
Falling
Breathing
Fighting
Fading
Realizing
I’m here
I am alive


But I’m a ghost
I’m immortal
No substance, no weight
No consequence to things I do or say
I’m here to watch and learn
And someday
I might rejoin the race
But I’m only a child
Don’t rip open my shirt
Shock my heart like that
I’m not really here
Death is my backup plan
My secret ace in the hole
Deus ex machina
It will rescue me
Come for me in the end
But not today
Not yet
Today I am here
Just today
Watching
Waiting
For her chest to rise and fall
For her hand to move
And reach
And grasp
And want
Anything

Here
He said
Thrusting a warm wash cloth at her
Not staring at the blood and
Charcoal and puke
Staining her mouth
This might make you feel better
Why does kindness bring tears
For her
When no amount of cruelty
Ever has
Can I believe some people
Are good
For no reason
Why am I here?
I’m left with
Love and kindness
In the end

The small things
We do
And disregard
Without thinking
Because that’s who we are
These things
Nothing else
Bring us to a state of grace

My god my god why
I’ll tell you why
Because I have miles yet to walk
Before I die
And so many hungry ghosts
To feed along the way
So many lifeless hands to hold
So many heartbeats left
So many
Thank you
For not granting my wish that day
Thank you for giving me breath again
To cry and scream
And laugh and yell
Thank you
Thank you
Ssshh…
It’s okay
We’re all still only children somewhere
It’s okay
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Feb. 11th, 2008 @ 11:21 am Writer's Block: A Favorite Poem
Tags: ,
<lj-template name="qotd" id="300" / "Diving into the Wreck" Adrienne Rich Anything by her, actually "Thirst" Mary Oliver (anything by mary oliver) "Lady Lazarus" Sylvia Plath "Ariel" Sylvia Plath
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Feb. 3rd, 2008 @ 02:44 pm (no subject)
My loved ones are hurting this week
S. is in the hospital, bleeding profusely for unknown reasons
K. feels helpless and lost beside him
Are your papers in order
Do you have a death wish
the doctors ask him

Maybe i shouldn't work longer
T. says
maybe i should just give you my condo to live in 
after i'm gone
you could sell it
more money
please stop smoking
i beg her

It's a mistake
A. said to me
this is all a mistake
you're late
where were you seven years ago
it was supposed to be you
am i a troublemaker
am i mean
a heartbreaker?
she asks me
eyes wet, downturned
face sad and tired
no my love
i tell her
those of us who love you
do so fully, completely
of course it's agonizing
if and when you move on 

my loved ones are hurting
this week
full moon
maybe
cycles of the universe
maybe
that's life
that's life
love and death
both undeniable forces of nature
we all must eventually submit ourselves to and answer
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Jan. 19th, 2008 @ 11:05 am What Do You Have To Say? - Me Behind The Wheel
Tags: , , ,

What do you do when you're in the car alone?

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View 431 Answers

 what do i do in the car alone? other than sing to music (radio or not), ponder my next class assignment, play with hand puppets (if i'm stuck in a traffic jam), drink coffee, write aloud, daydream, fantasize about graduation? that's pretty much it
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Jan. 16th, 2008 @ 03:51 pm What Do You Have To Say? - The Soundtrack of My Life
Tags: , , ,

What songs would you include on the "soundtrack of your life?"

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View 454 Answers

 "Consequences of Falling" KD Lang
"Requiem" Mozart
"When the Stars Go Blue" Bono
"Chasing Cars" Snow Patrol
"Never Be Mine, The Fog" Kate Bush
"My Immortal" Evanescence
"Tragedy" Brandi Carlisle
"Stormy Weather" Lena Horne
"Go"  Indigo Girls
"Diamonds and Rust" Joan Baez
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Jan. 16th, 2008 @ 12:52 pm What would you do if you only had 30 days to live?

I'll never forget the day she asked me that...
and how i responded
that was almost a year ago
"She" was not the "she" i was married to at the time
Nonetheless, it's one of those questions that really stops you, makes you think and bleed and cry and shout and stay awake all night
if you let it all the way in
which i did

a few months later
i left my sweet love
my home
my dog
my future

and lived past 30 days...
do i wonder
now what?
like someone with a terminal illness
who burns bridges, finally tells people what she really thinks, lives recklessly without care for tomorrow
or what will happen to the 401 (k)
only to wake up and think uh-oh
i'm still alive

yes 
i do
and at the same time
this is my life now
i bless it and welcome it
as much as i fear it, am scared of it
and weep for my old life

i know, i know
how dare i cry for a world and life i left?
i walked out on a perfectly good secure future
with someone i deeply loved and was with for 7 years
what the hell is the matter with me?
why would i do that?

Because someone asked me
What would you do if you only had 30 days to live
And i listened to her
and began living my life that way

The trick is
To remember each day
That we are dying
And live that day as if it is our last
Yet still plan for that future

What is it we can say 
That is not trivial or insulting 
To those who are dying?

What is it we can do 
So that on our last day
Our last breath of air will not be spent saying " I wish I had..."
Wishes, nothing
My aunt died able to say she had no regrets for her life
Except she would have played with her children more
and worried about  money less

And I ? what would i do to avoid that fateful deathbed phrase "I regret"?

I would have loved my dog more, played with her more
I would have told my spouse all those things it's too late to say now
I would have ...so many things

Regret, sorrow, grief, guilt, rage
All part of the same breath as joy, life, laughter, love...
and so we go on
to the next 30 days

What would you do if you only had 30 days to live?

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