Category: Misc


How long have I known, and repeated
artist on her soapbox
Art is process, not product
the journey, not destination

My own words echo in empty space
how sure of myself I was

I search for the eroticism of blank canvasses
instead I find fear

I stare into mirrors
looking for the one who created

what is lost

I am hiding, embarrassed by my grief
mourning bits of digital soul
while children starve and bombs fall in my name
by what right

My litany of greater evils
fails me
My grand philosophy of artistic theory
mocks me
My work
deepest passion, cornerstone of Self, temporal markers of my life

is gone.


caught me by surprise.
Finding me
without my usual gown
of self protection and silk.

You saw through my
words, images, dreams,
and touched
a woman alone.

You held me
in your magicians hands
feeling what I could not say.
I wanted to run
to refuse to look,
but saw myself in green eyes
and could not leave.

This reality is not
the one I have known.
You lead me
into an unknown ocean.
Frightened by its depths
thrilled by its possibility
I follow you,
fighting for breath.


I see faces in stones
         bodies in
         passion in fountains
   and dreams in your eyes

when you talk about music
  your skin softens
  your eyes turn to green
  your posture changes,
  you reveal
   desire so deep
It is the current that carries you

Has no one ever shown you
you, taken from you
tides of dreaming
    or cherished
      the waves that flow through
      when you create
what only you can hear

Do not wait.
teach your children
         and mine
to live each gift
to offer every passion
to Be
nothing less
      than what they Dream

Colors Of

I will
show you
the colors of desire.
lips parted, breathing in
the fire of your skin.

I will feed your soul
with the scent of passion
honey covered hands
soothing shadows,
offering eyes of deepest flame.

I will taste your breath
teasing my skin,
touching my dreams
creating screaming storms
etched into memory

I will teach you
for the songs of touch
for the hunger of words whispered
for the sighs of aching fullness

I will hear you
crying out in the moondark night
offering surrender
to the passion you create.
it belongs, not to me,
but to you.

Elemental Calling

Moonlit night flying,
soaring spinning
weaving amongst clouds
owl, Sister of the feathered wing
I call you
to this place between the worlds.

Fireborn Goddess,
I stand before you
charred singing spirit
feeling, feeding the flames
born in time out of mind.

Wet Ocean Mother,
you of the wild and exhaulting dance
surging breaking waves
craving, ecstatic,
bringing me the fierceness of lunacy.
Join me in this circle.

Ancient Serpent Mother
I touch your Earth
beneath a dream draped Oak,
my life rooted to your calling
shedding skin and self.
The circle is cast.