Aphrodite and Hekate

I made a new friend last night. We were like co-pilots in fighter flight. I have to admit, he let me down a bit, but he said something smart, a clever retort.

And I wax poetic:

Falling in love is a feeling we cherish, no matter the catalyst. It’s our own, evidence of the kind of emotional potential we have.

We fall in love so easily, our hearts open, dripping with wet anticipation. The trouble is when we try to hold it and rely on it to always be the same.

In essence, it is the same, the force that creates and destroys, the Goddess at the center of it all. But She chips away at us, at different levels, destroying our attachments and giving us new ones, holding the elusive star we forever strive to reach

To know it, to use it, to live forever…



Anabolic and Catabolic

How could you be so forgetful?

How could you not show me gratitude after everything I have given you?

How could you not be happy?

You would ask me.

I fear I owe you my happiness.

But I am not happy about this.

Should I feel bad about that?

When does bad become bad enough that it moves?

Like a black hole which we get sucked into

the vortex we created ourselves.

Don’t you see? I cannot be just to be.

Do not hate me because

I loved you for a moment.

That was Eternity in disguise.

Let me love you the way I want to,

slow, and forever, and free.


I was born this way ramble

I looked at my reflection,

side-long in the pane,

I saw black hollows

round the green membrane~

I’m evil, I thought,

then considered

stabbing the cat.

That’s not what I mean though,

that’s not where I’m at!

My professor told me,

that contractions don’t

belong in poems.

He also told me

to kill my heroes.

I think of you,

and the tiny suction anchors

that weave you to me,

so when I think

back of my life with you,

you are still here with me.

Are you a ghost?

An angel?

You are Elegua,

the Trickster God~

most potent in feminine form.

You scan the Cosmos

to find the yin to my yang~

and bring it to me,

so I can self-destruct.

I am a scared caterpillar,

screaming at myself,

“You are so slow! So slow!”

But it’s here now,

“Unnecessary but”. Shut up! Memory?!

Avoid melodrama!

It was never about the drama, sir,

it’s about the rhythm.

Life’s an art,

and I’m learning technique.

Or so I say,

so I don’t have to speak, but I sulk,

and sit in the starry-eyed corner,

and say to you from afar,

I want you to love me,

let me show you how.

She suffocated her daughter

in a trailer made of metal.

What is your intention here?

She asked.

Why do you want to save others so badly?

Because they need my help. They are in trouble.

I don’t buy it! She screamed, burning brighter, I don’t buy it!

Surrendering she gasps,

because I want him to pay for what he did!


What is a human motive?

I began studying spirituality because I was hurting so badly. I was depressed and heading down a dark road, even a depression-caused paralysis one day.

I began studying spirituality as a way to feel the exact opposite. How can I rise above this? Yoga and meditation helped for a little while. I tried to have another identity surrounding it, but I didn’t fit in with those groups of people, either.

Now, I’m learning how power hungry can feel and trying to find a balance. It is the art of love and transformation.

But I still have evil.

The black hollow of my sockets are there,

but I have mercy as well.

I sit here wondering how much of myself to give to you,

because in this space I’m revealed.

Will you read me, take it all in,

let it touch you,

and then touch me back?

All of poetry is about sex or death, he said.



Why do I do what I do?

I don’t know.

Perhaps to relay it to you~

Am I crazy?

Who cares?

Just walk into the house,

and out of the cold.

To be immortal,

I must share.

I’ve only loved you from afar,

but now you are looking up close.

Do you love me?

Can you love me?

Enough to transform

all of these

haunted ghosts,

inside of the halls of

my macabre


Can you train me?

Can you teach me?

Will you show me what you know?

The other has

not been kind to me,

or so,

I have been told.

If you hate me,

once you know me,

I could not go on.

So I prefer

the loony stories

in the halls of my


Family, friends~

I tend to trust

the free love

of strangers.

It’s safer for me there~

where they do not care.

I have gotten

to the point

where I must face my biggest fear.

My mantra is,

I don’t care what you think.

My modus is to love you.

Let me show you what I know,

so that you come with me,

so that I’m not alone.

I need you, but

it’s all about me.

Will you let me use my fingers,

and weave desire

into love.

I fear that I cannot be

loving enough, that I

may tear you apart.

How do I try?

Where do I start?


the Masterpainter

To touch you in words makes me wet,

however, less so than times we’ve met,

dancing on the edge of a circle.

I’ve held in tight, baby bundles of anxiety,

but you’ve coaxed me out,

one delicious finger at a time;

so high that reality is

2D and I am the Masterpainter.

word woman

Say what you mean;mean you what Say

Can words ever reclaim their ability to be uttered? To be something so needed to be said, a soliloquy sized burp forms in the amorphous ether? Can I translate to you the utmost desire, with the words that ride as sailboats on the ocean of sight? We cannot reclaim the words, I fear and I pray, because words are puzzles without edges, and they are the ashes from the fire, the skin that’s been shed. I am falling down a slippery slope of love; it’s too moist here to get up, too good to be true. Words have turned into Truth only as fingertips on flesh or breath on my neck. I feared the lessening distance between me and you. Feeling you in words was safer. I used to sing to you from the shore. But I fear I must express,

my deepest interest.

I don’t speak best with words, but when I use them, I want to touch you everywhere.


Awake and too full for sleeping on the night of the day we begin the Descent. I think of you, my Starhawk, my lover and creation who accepts so easily the status of flow and the gifts~ that we are magic, separated only by the thin veil of form. I’ve given you what I have~ I’m excited to know how much more you’ll get from me. I dream about the warmth in your escape, and worry you will leave. Will you wait for me? You’re a heavenly gift. Christ, my angel. I hope to see you again. I’ve dreamt of you for a long time. Can you handle my love? Only time will tell. Only fear keeps me fromJumping. But with you, at least the fall will be scenic and I have a chance at something I considered impossible before. I’ve thought about you as a father. I’ve thought about waking up with you, and our wedding. Above all, as I lie in bed awake on the night of the descent, I get back to what you represent~ the miraculous in seemingly mundane. I worry about leaving. Decisions make our future. This is my soul path. But I think maybe you hold the key to my life. Please stay.

bee goddess

A Manual

Keep my heart


let me love


as wind on

blades of grass.

Your devotion





Love me




“make it last”.

I will give to you

my sacred honey

to your bees,

’cause you only

want to please.

Give me everything

I need, and I will

give you everything

you never knew

you always wanted.