Love Letter 224 Tumbled

willing to be silent

I stop

moving.

it is hard.

every stone is a jewel

every shell a new necklace

even my feet feel the pull of distraction's glamorous entourage of bouquets.

life is a feast

but what, here, is sweet?

I wanted to go everywhere

but

at Your Shore

I cannot leave.

Your open arms

hold nothing

but sacred psalms

and all my tears, voiceless and unfitting

pour

into your well.

you have not told me what to do

but you have pried me

from the very wrong I do

just by being more

than I could ever ask for

in a way

I could never ask for it

I Love You

Your Beloved

Love Letter 223 In Parts

I don't remember all the details...

you may want me to

but...

All I can make out

is...

I fell in Love

so easily

when I met you

and...

I have

never

landed.

I Love You

Your Beloved

Love Letter 222

I AM WIDE OPEN GOD

a scoured out gullet, purpose undaunted by infamy, happiness flaunting her wings --

Wide Open

You have liberated my soul

softly, soundly,

I am free

I hear the swifts howling "samsara samsara"

but I am the ocean

freed from the tides

I hear the wind coo

and the wild owl "hawk"

I know my place in the universe

my grapes into clay powder

my uniform a basket of uncoined phrases

kindling the muse.

I am no one. yet I am so lucky.

I have found You.

and my soul whistles silently

to all who don't know, "there is Love, there is Love... here, now, there is all."

I love You

Your Beloved

Love Letter 221 Dandelion Ashes

You wonder why I don't rest,

chasing lunatics in my own skin

cherubs carrying torches

aiming their firearms at the sun

Why would they give to that which already has?

They must know something I do not

Sri Ram

Jai Ram

I sing the ragas

I recite my poems

on the faintest heart, I milk the earth for a bridegroom

I browse for your favor,

but I dare not rest!

because the pungent spell of dandelion ash

is growing in a tree trunk

and there is a poem there... a dry birth...a torch waiting to burn.

I Love and Adore You

Your Beloved

Love Letter 220 Drink Up!

We are getting close!

All this love talk has made me miss you

and yet feel your presence more!

each letter is a new diction of love

more slang, for each nuance of how I carry on

long into the sweat-filled night, deep into abracadabra,

weeping like a blanket which has been wrenched off

in passion

have you caught on?!

have you ever tired of these violent advertisements of thirsty evangelism?

teasing the ceaseless thriving of YOU?

can I say more, and what can I say?

all these arrangements are relative cocktails, compared to the endless party

of your Actual Presence

I am only a groupie, recording your every whimper with my third eye

only mad, I count the times you close your eyes and remember God

Allah, Rah, and The One Who Knows

(but isn't it you? I consider, as I play back the reel of our endless years)

I Love You

Your Beloved

Love Letter 219 Limber Up!

I have no names for God but You

You You You You You

What other word could be so obvious, available and useful?

For You to Be God -- for me to see it

I must hinder my ego and make limber my heart

so I can remain unconfused

the sea of Divine faces reflecting one truth

oh, may I see it, may I see that bright truth!

hinder hinder hinder! limber limber limber!

this is the great catastrophe of prophets

Their truth seemed too simple: Love

oh, to rest the complex

and embrace the emptiness!

so I may see YOU

Your Beloved

Love Letter 218 UP

I am an amateur at this

Hercules, Euripides and Spider Man

pull together to help me up...

my courage: in tears

They scold me

in a garden where birds hear: "Why are you giving up?"

... Eventually, they leave

after sharing some soup,

but I pretend to lie still, unmoving

I pretend to not hear

what the birds are saying:

"Trust us...We know which way is up"

Your Beloved

Love Letter 217 Trickery

I have been holding on to something sacred...

YOU

and this holding on is trickery,

for You slip beneath my grip and fall apart ---

strands of Perfect light

dizzying my chase

to get you back.

how far have You gone?

no where --

no, You will never go

I just needed to let go

to know that

I Love You

Your Beloved

Love Letter 216 Before Columbus

In my communion

I have let you go

like the common man

the housewife

the butcher

and the fowl

I have lived up to you

like a bluebird on a black bird's tail

I have looked over and over the ocean

for Atlantis

and Hades

and Hell

I have given Dante my number

and held the hearts of fleeing doves

I have dug through tunnels thick with bruised aortic impulses

and scraped back the blood from secret grails

For You

I have put everything in order

just waiting for the wind

I have shewed away my Lovers

I have painted my walls gold, and left a crystal path of my elation

for you to follow

...if You ever

come

I have lain a plate of pearls, and broken oysters just to find you

I have remembered dreams and picked them clean for details of Your hideout

You have become a word

I can't write down

or say without something awful being absolved

sometimes I wonder

just how dangerous our hunger has become

for You

all us dirty impatient angels

pounding on your door

for one more miracle

is it you? is it you?

we chant each time we feel alive

and of course

all I have forgotten

all I have forgiven

is a mute verb

my memory

like a giant pool of You

my mind a scented single pillar of Your smoke

my body

still a filter for Your potent Holy Joke

if I am not here to know You

then I ask

why this burning ego bowing down to You

Why this crazy/crazed mask looking through your window

why this enamored crowd panning floods for You

but we are still One

even in this setting out for new worlds

no fleet can claim a land already Founded By Love, Invented By Your Gold

yet still we travel

in and out of body

to discover

what we have always known

You You You

in Our communion

I forget Who is Who

and let the Name go

So I can Be

Symbiotic with what is

Being has no name without a witness

come now, what are you looking at?

Join In!

Love Letter 215 I Have Heard About the Heart

You said the heart was reliable

but how would you know?

Your heart is a silver stud on a golden alpaca

and it moves when dragons chase the moon out of the ocean...

I look to mine now and then

and still

I cannot tell the difference

is it my heart?

is it my head?

which of these holds the answers

I wanted to name you the prince... the princess of all creation

but I just can't get out that last vowel

I just can't seem to believe dust to dust is the same thing as eternal

I just can't wrap my heart around

the weeping infidels and rheumatic slaughters

that happen daily

and often

and without miracles to shift them into romance novels

I just wonder

when I am aching

is my heart responsible?

can I mind over matter?

can I wash it all out, as though a storm just passing

can I sit in the zendo

when thousands of others twisted in villages and given to the violence

are broken by the kind of chains

only man has thought of?

where is his heart, I ask you?

if it's so reliable.

today I danced

because the dancing is a way to shake you back into my bloodstream

because ecstasy creeps in when I am busy swirling

because

no heart

no head

is present

only the outstretched opera of my awe toward You

Oh Liberator

You have sent many in Your sandals to share a bit of bread

Your spilling cup of prophets often dead because they carried Your carpet through the world

I wish only to enlist Your favor

for these three meals

-- waking up

-- walking in the world

-- and sharing bread with others on Your carpet, Beloved

reliably

I Love You

Your Beloved

Love Letter 214 When the Winter Doesn't Seem Cold

I do not write the love letter

it writes me

I do not notice beauty

it notices me

I do not speak

but words come through

and this

is a way of living

without

work

I think of you

without trying

to picture

any part of you

even the sum too glorious for my fragile mind

my heart loves

though I beg it not to

or sometimes

forget to acknowledge anything it feels,

yet, it feels

I made a temple in my sleep

with pillows

and murmurs

though I was sleeping

so I don't know

how I did it

I may have tricked myself,

but

for once

everything was calm

and that calmness

has lasted

like the mystery itself

completely out of this particular persian blue

the diamond came

rising

like a lotus

and opening

at last

like Your eyes

from a banquet of sleep

nothing is impossible

without even having paved a road of gold

You

were You

I didn't have to quit smoking (though I never did smoke)

or take up Tae Kwon Do

I didn't change my perfume

or use bigger words

or start saying Thank You

more often

Gosh!

When I think of all the crawling I've done

over elaborate slopes and potholes

it must be

humorous to you

I didn't have to catch you

or put you under any spell

no incantations or red mandalas

not even a rain dance

nope

so you see

I do not write the love letter

it writes itself

love is not a method

but a living ordinary magic

just like

You Are

and without

a thought

without perfection

You and Love

have come

to my bed

again and again

as if this bed were yours

Love's bed...

Your bed...

hmmmm...

maybe it is me who has been sleeping

in Yours

mmmm...

this feels good.

Your Beloved

Love Letter 213 I Cannot Promise What I Say is True

I have nothing to say to you.

having lost the art of french,

hindi, silence

having lost the art of weaving my fingers into a prayer to animate for you

having lost the art

of bending

into fertile ground

or glimpses of heaven

in fact, I left the oven on

heating the whole house

so hot

so I could lose my coolness

or any protection I had against discomfort

then I disrobed

and ran into a spin, so violent

the whole house shook into ash

but as I was doing this

one thing kept happening

all I had lost came back

in multiples

my shirt and socks

the things I had always wanted to say

the beads of scripture implanted in my heart

but still

even naked,

with everything at my feet

nothing lost

all of it gained back, abundant

I shrugged my shoulders

what was it

to perform

these arts

anyway?

what is it

to give you

what has already been given

you a million times a million

an infinite number of times?

my heart began to murmur

and I had nothing to do with it

I donated everything to silence

I stopped trying to say

anything

with my mouth, hands, body and eyes

I began shivering in

the cold dark mess

of misjudging

what was necessary

to You

I let alone

all this singleness

of thinking

I let alone

all this hatred for triumph and trying

I let alone victory

and resolution

I let alone You

so I could fall back

on something

greater

than myself

I stopped putting my inventions to the test,

stopped trying to be pragmatic

or imaginative

stopped trying to be a genius

jumping up and down for honorary mentions

I stopped trying

to get you to notice

what I had let go of,

how I had improved,

what I had to offer,

how much better I could love you now.

I stopped trying to see you

from inside

my shit hole

of content

or discontent

my ornery oasis

my funhouse

of apathetic mirrors and apologetic abstinence

my advice for a better life, a new film about positives

I stopped trying new positions

and set aside old ones

in fact. I stopped moving

and I stopped staying still

I let go of all commitments. all commandments

and anything else that felt shallow, used and rehearsed

I let go of sunrise

and death

and the idea of eating upon waking

I let go of sleep

and hanging around

and checking my mail

and then I stopped letting go

why not?

it seemed, I had become too familiar with that act too

I stopped wanting to be an artist

I stopped wanting to be good at everything

I stopped being convinced I was a failure

I stopped struggling with what it means to fail

I stopped trying to get in touch

with who I thought you were

I left you alone

then

Surprise

You showed up

and I said

nothing

did nothing

I was full on naked

and useless

but not in any shocking or soulful way

and you put Your arms around me

You carried me out

to the sunshine

You poured kerosene

on my whole body

and asked me, what now, should you do?

I put my hand out

and You joined me

and we lay there together

laughing and rolling around

soaking wet

but it was a hot day

so hot

that

!!!!!!!!!

...well

you were there!

We burst into flames

not like I had pictured once

but

real terrific flames of laughter

jubilees really

and people came

to us

with their marshmallows

and cold fingers

rubbing them against our halos

and they pulled up chairs

some of them soldering things broken, into cosmic cornucopias and living 3 dimensional Renoirs

the whole neighborhood made violins and tambourines out of burning debris, our wrists and limbs, those beautiful eyelashes I love of yours

and made a band

the organic automatic they called it

and played well on

into the week

month

year

An entire celebration

started by our fire

oh!!!

had I thought of it sooner

it never would have been this fun!

Love Letter 212 Endless Talk

I was pregnant, once

with a dirty word

but I couldn't use it

I would go places just to hear it

coming from someone else.

I would push people to use it

then run

as if

they had done

something wrong

I used to be a virgin.

casting out frogs, and

casting off princes

I used to pride myself

on living without

and keeping myself solemn and sovereign.

I was so sentimental

I lost the meaning

of Love

I pressed my finger on the button

and erased

the whole grid

but YOU never blew up

I want to be pregnant

as much as I want to give birth

those dirty words

are useless camping out on the tongue

but how do I take that first step

from

virgin

to Beloved?

must I let "God"

out

of my mouth?

I Love You

Your Beloved

2012 The Mother Language Speaks (part1)

Love Letter 211 Where You Step

The One is hiding

in a blade of grass

oh look!

but which ONE?

The One is hiding in a third wheel --

awkward evening --

heavenly adulation of hips

The One is hiding

in the ring around your toilet

a jar of vanilla wax, linseed oil

soft music showing its bravado

a shaman's sturdy call to the crow (Can you hear it?)

The One is wearing a nude cloth

one that blends in with the fabric of the body

but where?

and he is talking with her hands

and wearing sunglasses

and jumping off of high places

just to feel the ground

again

and again

to be close to you

between your fingers

like an itch

that will not forgive or forget about love

The One

is

where you are

not a single inch further

or farther

apart

The One does not know about measure

Everything He Does Is Full On

Everything She Does Is Too Much

Everything She Does is So Obvious

we might be stepping on His house

(check, right now, underfoot!)

We will be laughing about this...!

I Love You

Your Beloved

Love Letter 210 I Have Found Out

Who says The One's Love

is not personal?

WHAT?!!!

I beg to differ

The One is SO PERSONAL, IT IS YOU!

I Am REJOICING!

YOU YOU YOU!

YOU ARE THE BELOVED!

and I LOVE YOU!

very personal, my dear

very personal!

YOUR BELOVED

Love Letter 209 Make it Personal

in your precious rental

of this luminous body

you have found God

sleeping on a sidewalk

with a vestige of gin

and he has taken from his blanket

a scrap

to blow his nose

and wash his face

...is this your God?

of course it is

and stubborn as the hemming of a haw

the day nibbles at your kismet tongue

with a wire toothed comb, until all your taste buds

have forgotten the halo of honey

and you begin

gnawing at my world

while I sit

feet crossed

in a park which has no fountains

and I keep on writing even as you talk

is this your God?

and sometimes

you shoot at birds

and kill bugs

is this your God?

and sometimes you talk about weather

complaining, or desiring something else

is this your God?

and sometimes you point at strangers moving differently than you

and sometimes

you volunteer the truth

and sometimes

you rub against the cobwebs of your mother's youth

is this your God?

when will the lights be turned on?

you have been living this long.

look around

there are still more switches to flick

then this light house

can be your God

and see

that everything

for miles and beyond

is holy, luminous and God

this freedom

is the Beloved

gardening your heart

oil and will and sturdy containers which pour

are good here

the voice

is your own

gather, believe and pour

YOU ARE GOD

I Love You

Your Beloved

Love Letter 208 Sometimes I Wonder What I Mean

God

God

God

YOU ARE A GENIUS!

Even saying it, makes me laugh

at my conclusion --- YOU --- A Genius!

Ha! Each syllable like monochromatic laughter...

uncooked cookies waiting to be polluted

by hours in the oven

Oh God

will this laughter ever end?!

or must I Give Up

trying to sound sane

I Love You,

Your Beloved

Love Letter 207 Holy China

In Your Oyster, I have found God

juggling a thousand insects of glory

wading through the jungles of intense impatience

and wandering always HOME HOME HOME, holy entrance always inviting

I have seen him

in the shadows of your cat's claw

between your cushions

in the water left by dripping icicles

I have heard her

in the Omphalos

the UnderWater

and Purring Venus overhead

What I want to know is

have you opened your couch out?

set a vase of flowers

made extra

left a key under your mat?

are your breadcrumbs fireproof

and can you

walk on water

when the One

says that you can?

Sure Sure

all is in order

We have prepared

for what none

can ever prepare

It is silly to lay out china

but do it still

show your intention

and then move on

with wearing God's name on your body

with every breath

I Love You

Your Beloved

Love Letter 206 Poison Antidote

I have a hunter's compassion

and a poison ivy temperament...

life flows in and out

and I am drowning.

you cast your nets like gravel into nutrients,

you set your watch to zero

and count down.

you look below

then jump

up,

but before I betray you

with all my works of God.

let me tell you

I am nothing

I have no pedestal

have made no vows

don't even make room for saviours in my inn

I sweep my floor with the heart of my hand

and turn proud to beggars

I sleep on a pitchfork overhanging the ocean

and one foot is draping off always

like a cocoon ready to fall.

I don't even have a hook to drag me back

if I slip in

I don't need one

You are all the anchor

I will need.

magnetized to truth, all my convictions will turn to YOU

no matter how I hone my hell

You Will Always Be There

like a bee

on a jet ski of dew

drinking in the palm flower

nesting in the lilacs

wanting Love

to be your One Defining Detail

and it is.

I am sorry for all the drama

I Love You

Your Beloved