The spirit of my father

 Remind me not to overeact
or think that things are important when they are not
He was some of that support I swear
sometimes his word was so true

 So certain I swear to god he knew the world
 He knew
 He gave me understanding to feel
 more power and certainty where hitherto I felt none

He doesn't ground me
 I hear him and ground myself
 As if I could do it all along
 like you probabaly do naturally

Installing that knowledge in my brain and heart
 That the future is ok
Things will come to pass
As we have foreseen 

He is the same
It is the patient him
Working with me to solve my problems
Because I don't feel ready

Out of reach

 Secrets get out
Friendships wear thin
Confide in one person
all of your sins

Crying from chest
Searching for air
Past makes mess
life rarely fair

Turn to yourself
Yet no reflection
You look outward
weary interactions

Tears are tiny mirrors
Little wet regrets
accept the glimmer
Confess don't deflect

Cut yourself off
You are out of reach
slowly go soft
life's peachy

My own inspiration

 I want to go back home
I want to be my own muse
Not my physical home or my original country
I want to go back home to myself

To who I once was
To how I saw the world
To the way my eyes would...
scan and relay it all to heart and brain

I want to return to that home
I want to sit inside that house again
Feel the comfort of it's furniture
The taste of it's food

I want to be inside that house
As if it were in my own heart
Cut the string that pull me away from myself
I want to be my own muse

Today my father called and I answered

 Today father visited again
He has called, I have answered
The energy of the day is just right

The day is neither sunshine
nor completely overcast

Temperature all balanced
I can hear my father
He talks through it all

Through the temperature
Through the blue sky and cloud
Through the stillness that is him

I hear his voice clearly
Through it he tells me to nourish myself

He speaks through the apparition of my father
His voice booms in silence like warm comfort
He is the complexty of all good things and healing 

Oxymoronic
As faithless
Overwhelming my soul with faith once more

Five to two

 Five days of habitual work
Two of resting
Routine sometimes hurts
Forced blessing

Get through the morning
Lunch is mostly digestion
The afternoon fog swarming
Quirky evening

Blank the page and repeat everything
Impostering alarm bangs loud
Morning coffee hot urgency stings
You are out the door already

 

Concubines and paupers

 

Obsessed and neurotic
Fawning creatures
Near the courtyard
Overlit neon white sex hall

A lake peasants wade into
Speculate from the shore
Breeding optimsm in heart floating
Taste of rich arouses hubris

wives and concubines
competing for attention
to be the dream to be the pie
Love all had in common
caressing runs over them
in through emotion

Special food they are
Secret mystery of summer
Boredom of the winter
Peasants beg for food
Sex hall over fed
scraps scattered over muddy edge

Tehau

 Lost breeze
Beach abode
Belong somewhere
Unlost and wanted

Broken machines
searching for a garage
No urgent need for fixing
But for fear of rusting

No attention today
The world works long hours
You are still loved
You are held

When they are gone
The beach cradles you
Don't test it's love
let it be waves