Dislocation

The weight of the world
bears down on my shoulders until
separation.

My consciousness dislocates
from its usual comfortable socket
and stretches beyond its reach.

The familiar is a veil of mystery
and all of space is folded,
forced back in
to my awareness.

I am hyper-extended
to the point of breaking
but the cracks
are a vacuum
to be filled.

Sometimes we must be broken
to be made whole.

Is this growth?

After the bones are set
in their ways
their movement finite
their attachments defined.

A test of fortitude-
how far are you willing to reach
to hold it all in?

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Caught

The downpour of the rain

matches the thunder of my heart

As we huddle beneath the singular shelter

of an umbrella that fights against the wind.

We gaze into each others’ eyes, seeking:

Do we dare make a break for it?

The streetlight on the opposite corner

is our only guide.

 

Could we make it?

Could we toss away our shelter and our attachments

and dash for the other side?

 

We release our grip on the umbrella

and immediately the wind

whips it away, fabric flapping

as it separates from the metallic skeleton.

 

We glance at one another

as we stand fully exposed to the elements

in surrender to this moment.

Laughter escapes our lips

that sounds like rain falling upwards

as we leap from the curb,

hand in hand,

and run towards the light.

Breaks

Here we are anew

with unknown behavior

dancing, dancing

in a way that’s nev’rending.

 

Here we are again

not really knowing

Does he, will she

the question is paralyzing.

 

Unknown

feelings flow

in a river that conjoins us.

 

Confluence, merging

Energy, exchanging

Line between us blurring

Never really knowing

should we stop or should we go?

 

Its so compromising

and so

feelings overflow

energy overload

clarity is let go

 

And we wait

for the beat, the break

that illuminates the darkness

a movement that guides us

out of what confuses us

and into the spin.

 

 

Corporeal

If I tear down this Temple

will it set me free?

If these walls of flesh and bone

were removed

would there still be space

between me

and you

and the All One?

 

This physical beingness

so fraught with pain and pleasure

are you but a distraction

cleverly placed

smoke and mirrors to cloud my eyes?

Or are you the gift

of a lifetime

a birthright to be claimed

An expression of this beautiful plane

to which I am bound?

 

Pain is only

electrical impulses

Synapses firing

in an ethereal communique

Neurotransmitters carrying a message

translated through the body.

 

Pleasure, though

coaxed from the more tender points of interface

a cascade of chemicals and activated nerves.

 

Does this make it an illusion?

As real as the electricity that flows

through our material world?

If I turn away

will it turn it off?