Passion for Sale

How could this be

I have never received any passion

When having to pay a fee

Stick in the probe

Reactivate that part of the brain

When the heart beats rapid, unrelated to fear

The world becomes sane

There are passions

And actions

And fashions

And reactions

Passions

Demand nothing

While For Sale

Requires a buyer or sting

Those so worried about prostitution

Ought to be concerned

More for the loneliness

Of how that money was earned

The Great Greta Garbo

Sullenly said “I want to be alone”

From the silly smoke of a fashioned cigarette holder

Perhaps there is a passion in being known

It is as if there is a step missing

Of what to do next

There are only vague directions

Keeping us vexed.

All In Divine Time

We arrive at the shallow shores

Of swampy waters from which we came

At the apex of decision

Do I want to return

What is it I still need to create

Or understand?

Will I choose to arrive

As a woman or a man

Which ever one I have too much of

I will select the other

Climbing up that pillar

To be launched

Flung back into the world

For yet another thrill seeking challenge

Where I have been

Is everywhere at the same time

As days and years are unmeasured

In the course of endless space

I long yet, once again, not completely satisfied

I wander through the traditional

Only on the fringes of something really new

And everything in its due time, in its season

The truth is impenetrable

Bobbling, in my floating, non-sea worthy vessel

Getting ready to make that great leap

Not yet believing it is almost time to return

Lessons in the chest pocket must be carefully read

Maybe, when just waiting at the airport at boarding time

Understanding that E.T.A. is not the issue.

Parenthood

I have the book

With all the answers

From all the mistakes

I’ve made

Everything now has

Been corrected

In an orderly, timely procession

A procedural manual

For sure-fire success

I have lived through the burns

The anguish

Of immature judgments

And impulsive invincibility

That has lead me up

This 90 degree angle

Slaying the cursory dragons

Along the way.

Now I open my book to you

Old and tattered

Be that it may

Each page packed

With suggestions

For an airtight life.

But you, my child

Leave the book unopened

Instantly putting it aside

To create your own stories

Of trials and tribulations

Your own dragons slain

No interest in my history

Other than a trajectory glimpse

Speed Dial and More

Living in a sea of mystery

From where did I begin

And where does the world end

Deserts to cross

Dust in the face

Sweat on the brow

Sore and aching muscles

Hearts that open and close

Solid clans of religion

That circle to the God head

Eternity of promise and submission

Are we the masses controlled

Or are we so out of control

Clashes of culture

So many other communication break downs

Our body memories

Reach for touch

Of the heart, the hand and the mind

An ocean of darkness

Between the green, blue sea

Sky that reaches to meet it

On a sun filled day

On earth’s paradise

Tomorrow we may know different

But we have hardly evolved

Going in circles

With new age technology toys

Everyone has been imprinted with a yen

To enslave the machine

And set their time free

Transmission of power

Leaves us all in the dust

Without all the adrenaline

Needed by our brave, “survival” ancestors

We may be losing pace

With our needed evolution

Fixated by games and toys

Flash drive messages

Smothered in abbreviations

While our internal life dries up

Like a plum in the sun

Emptying out old suitcases in our mind

That equipped us with the tools

We no longer think we need.

Marijuana Haze

Have a hit

To start your days

Night time sleep

That’s the way

You are in a marijuana daze

Feeling lost in its haze.

Tried to keep it a secret

For so many years

The professional façade

You kept so dear

But your friends would love you, any way

Despite all your fears.

Until one day

The gig was up

Marijuana had

Overflowed your cup

Forty years of anesthetizing

Renders you

A new born pup.

What to do

To get rid of the head pains

The internal aches

Of refrain

Letting go of an old friend

With mixed disdain.

Anguish fills your hours

Unrelenting doubts

Limit your powers

In disbelief of

how you got here

caught in the groove

of shame and fear.

If only you will guide yourself

On a new kind of road trip

Forgiving and replacing

Old habits you’ve kept

You can transform yourself

And not feel inept.

The truth stands

Right before your resistance

Change is doable and necessary

To transform your existence

Bite the bullet-Let go of the passé

You can go the distance.

Say goodbye to your old sidekick

You counted on so long

He will seduce and beguile

But you know he is so wrong

Gather up that strength from within

And play your victory song.

Let a day go by

and then another

with exercise and positive intentions

for yourself and others

give you the gift of clarity

incrementally and progressively without a shutter.

Do you really believe

This is all about weed

The depression and anxiety

You know are about unresolved need

Yes this is physical

But the emotional is what is making you bleed.

You are divine and brilliant

Filled with humor and light

Explore your spiritual nature

It will nurture you with delight

Be the healer to yourself

You are going to be all right.

Cousins

Cousins

You can see the resemblance

The blood line perpetuating

Repetitious patterns

Of those that have come before

With behaviors of kinship and longing

Fill the heart with joy

At such a reunion

Of food and merriment and catching up

And meeting new, young cousins

In the throws of play

Mari Juana Hooked

Free as a bird
If only your mind could
Believe it.
Instead of freedom
You are captive
To thoughts of fear
Keeping you restrained
In the pain
Of dependence
On an addiction
To hold your world sane
Trying not to ambush yourself
With the truth behind
The illusion
That drugs will keep you safe
And once you break free from that struggle
Your horse will run wild over the cliffs.