Not My Will

who am i without you?
every time i make a move in that direction;
to individuate, establish myself
apart from you,
my efforts are thwarted, sabotaged,
come to naught.

the universe is adamant that i belong to you.

that my path is lit by the beacon
of your heart.
that my direction is that which you lead me in.

so not me.
difficult to swallow,
my pride is KILLING ME in this moment.

it will kill me if i hold on to it.

i want so badly to call the shots.
lead the band,
strategize and plan,
get you ahead of the game,
on my terms, on my time frame,
with my effort,
so maybe then it will be MY victory.

not yours.

after all you've been through.

how could i?

do i have the guts to get off the
road of Good Intentions?

do i have the humility to be
behind the scenes?

can i allow my glory to come from
a source that's silent,
my praises whispered by angels?

The Palms

palm trees whisper your name
the realness is crisp
it grounds me to watch
the wispy graceful palm
writhe and sway with the wind.

i seek you.
seek to hear and feel you.

want to be in you,
be one with you,
no separation

you reflect me

whatever ails me,
you can calm and soothe.

your grandness and majesty
can take my breath away,
make my heart ache
with the longing
that only immense beauty provokes.

i am happy now.
i can stare at the crisp palms forever.

Cruising

i remember now,
if i go where i’ve always gone,
see who i’ve always seen,
say what i’ve always said,
laugh at the same jokes,
repeating the same lines,
eating the same dish at the same restaurant,

i will eliminate contrast in my life.
spontaneity will be a big word in the dictionary.
surprise will be a fondly remembered concept.

i remember now,
that life is meant to flow,
like a river,

not cruise,
like a car
on automatic.

Wanting

enfadada, hot, asquiada.
waiting for something.
the most active activity is the slight movement of a tree bathed in yellow blossoms.
almost no movement at all.
normal i guess, for life in the desert.
as it should be.
yet incompatible with life as it would be.
i long to soar. miss the adrenalin. want to know what’s next.

longing to feel it’s all for something.
that there’s a higher cause. meaning. something that at some point will be measurable.
and i will get my gold star.

If you are a mime

i have limitless freedom.
as if i were retired.
or an as-yet untamed toddler.

i can do what i want. go where i want to go.
my only responsibility to feed and cloth and fuck (oops! ‘make love to’) a man
who i like love respect and admire.
if he’s okay, i’m okay.
sounds too good to be true.

i don’t make lunches, or do homework.
i don’t get up at dawn and rush to make it before the gates close.
i don’t set alarms.
i don’t attend mandatory meetings.
i don’t participate in a world that runs on musts and shoulds.
i have stepped outside its boundaries, never ever to return.

my cell phone is no longer my master.
my email goes days unread.
peoples expectations may continue to exist in their own minds,
but they can’t be pushed on me.

i’m free, fuck you all.
i know you’re jealous and want to cage me because you can’t be me.

the realities that confine you are of your own making.
like the walls of a mime.
transparent, imaginary, but very real.
if you’re a mime.

Masks

Sunday
in guadalajara
breakfast in a busy hotel restaurant
relaxed faces
happy chatter
happy chewing
buffet evaporating

for me every day is Sunday
every day is a day to just be
every day is a chance to relax over my breakfast
enjoy the scenery
and appreciate living

i am lucky, few know this joy
people think i must suffer
that it must be a trial
to love the man i love
that assuredly i am mistreated
they may even suspect
that my body hides bruises
underneath my clothes

people believe what they see with their eyes
they are unaware that things are almost never as they appear
that we all wear masks
well, most

but not him.

Everybody's eating ice cream

everybody’s eating ice cream.
i don’t eat ice cream.
i am free to take care of myself.
so i choose not to participate in massive sugar addiction.

people find it oh so strange.
“just one piece of cake, just a bite...”
“sugar in your coffee”
...or in your catsup, your crackers, your cereal,
your 100% natural juice, your whole wheat bread.

look closely, you’ll find the insidious little drug
hidden in almost everything.

everybody’s eating ice cream.
and it might be strange,
but not me.