The Void


My heart a vacuum

void of any life

cold, dark, and hollow.

My soul is empty

a hole in the universe

gravity absent.

My body broken

as it shelters in it’s place

grieving as it licks it’s wounds .

Nothing can fix this,

mirror, still water, deep thought

a useful solace.

Hard thought blended with horror

head bent in sorrow

face on bitter wall.



Stand facing to the world, child

let your fingers touch the wind

this too shall pass, breathe.

One Spirit has it in hand.

Trust that what will come, will come

let chaffe float away

dandelion seeds

Que sera sera.


more on mindless platitudes


when life hands you lemons, throw them at the person telling you to make lemonade!

you choose your own happiness?  Put big yellow smiley faces all over the outside of, and paint the moon and stars all over the inside of, and fill it with flowers, call it your happiness palace, but it still smells like shit and its still an outhouse.

the very definition of platitude is a trite and meaningless statement

and yet when people are going through the most profound and deep moments of their lives, we want to plaster happy face stickers on their pain, like big yellow bandaids.  Put this on it won’t hurt any more.

am I the only one who craves truth?  am I the only one who thinks being real is more important than smiling in the face of your own heartbreak?

in the face of death?  in the face of pain?

why do we want to tell people, pull yourself up by your boots straps when the problem is that the boots straps just snapped off and you are standing in quicksand, it isn’t always as easy as your little platitude.

glad i went through it, hard for everyone around me but so glad that i trudged along on my own, snotty tear stained and red faced for a whole year.  glad i did, stumbling fumbling trying to remake my life for another year.  glad i did.  and then building brick by brick a new life, glad i did.  i didn’t make lemonade i built the fooking pyramids of egypt.  so take your lemons and make your own damn unsweetened drink.

i tell him, you know, the truth is, that he wasn’t such a bad guy, he was smart, and sometimes he was nice, but the truth is, i was just married to the wrong person, he wasn’t right for me, at all.

he says, because you were dumb, when you married him, you just were not thinking.

yeah i know i say.

he kisses the top of my head as he waters the great big healthy plants behind me, reaching over me.

knowing you makes me realize it, i say, realize what kind of man is right for me.

you are such a dork, he says.

i know i say.


you know everything happens for a reason….

just dont forget that shit is still shit.

and sunshine is still sunshine

and the moon, is made of cheese.



The morning is cool for summer and I sit on the back porch with a coffee enjoying the morning sun and light breeze.  I breath in and out and for a second I realize my mind is in a meditative spot.  Yet another thing I did not accomplish this summer.  Yet.  I must get back to it.  I have been angry maybe out of proportion to the small issues that have come up.  I have to let it go I realize because in the end I am only hurting myself.  I have this notion of things that annoy me are my own issues, not the issues of the people that have said or done things that on the front hurt but on the back end of it are right.  The other day I read someplace, I believe it was a quote from the Dalai Lama that we must temper truth with compassion.  That we must make sure that when we tell a truth to someone that it is not an all out attack.  Every single person on this planet has a perspective, mine is neither unique nor is it so special that it makes me right.  My truth is not everyone else’s truth.  Truth is a concept examined by philosophers, poets and filmmakers and by religion.  Can anyone truly know what absolute truth is?  Until you do know, pipe down and spend some time listening.  And trust me you probably don’t know.  What harm is there in listening for a moment.

Religions claim that they have the one and only truth, the only path to God.  But if there is only one God, are not all paths leading to it?  Politicians claim to have the truth, but we all know that their truth can be bought, is sold, and is said with forked tongue and crossed fingers so they can take it back if and when it serves them to.  News agencies, in print and televised and flashed over the internet, they too have a truth, that can be purchased, manipulated and sold to the highest bidder.  So you must really seek out truth by turning those things off and thinking.  I know thinking is hard, it is difficult, but not thinking is why we are in the big mess of this culture that we are in.  Not thinking is cool, according to the children.  Smart people are nerds and geeks, a compliment to someone that is.  But the kind of slack jawed acceptance of the absolute garbage we are being fed is not going to work really, anymore.

I come to this notion that I have my own truths to work on.  I sit for a while with this notion that I have the power to react to things as I react.  Its old news I know.  I can choose to react like a maniac and I do sometimes, I can choose to react with shame or fear or hurt, but isn’t it better to just speak, and say what it is I need.  Stand up for me if someone speaks ill of me, figure out a way to do so, know that I am already criticizing myself and I don’t need you to, find a way to motivate me by holding me up and not by punishing me.   But in the end accept who I am.  And if you cannot I am good because I have so many friends in my life that do.  I thought of  this as I walked in the wonderful refreshing night, how very fortunate to know exactly who stood by me when I was a train wreck.  And knowing that even those that could not do what I needed or wanted, were in fact exactly who and where they were supposed to be for their own reasons.  They had their own truths.

I know the song is kind of random to the post.  But in a way it is my truth tonight as the breeze flows across the open windows of the house, it was the truth as I was kissed goodnight under the moon and stars, it will be my truth as I close my eyes, and when I wake in the morning it will in part form my day.  And there is one thing I can promise.  My truth is that I am so worth it and as a friend said some days ago there is something intrinsically beautiful about a scene reflecting on rock skipping waters, so you are not sure what is up and what is down.  And while you rest awhile by these quiet waters reflect on truth.  You may find your mind drifting somewhere in the vicinity of it.  Please, do not shout when you discover it, let others get to it on their own, in the quiet serenity.