Thursday, June 25, 2015

Love Lesson

I feel you move, I watch you breathe

The tangible helps me believe
You cannot prove, what you don't feel
You cannot say this is not real

So much to do, so much to say
'Cause I can't let you get away
Unwittingly, I succumb
The power of one less in love

You could lie, you could cheat
My foolish heart is my defeat
I think I see, but I am blind
Lessons learned do not remind

You cannot do, you cannot say
You cannot make me go away
Impossible to overcome
The power of one less in love

I keep myself within your grip
I bought my ticket for this trip
The knowing does not help me say
I am through with the charade

Impossible to overcome
The power of one less in love

Thursday, June 18, 2015

this is not a hipster poem

the struggle was real - and truer words never cliched.

who would have guessed? a hacker by nature
     a truth seeker
     a wannabe healer
the weapon of choice is information.

wading through deception, lies, hypocrisy--like an ocean of quicksand. it is impossible to swim when they just keep pushing you under.
the truth doesn't hurt, the truth sets us free.
        (except, apparently, from the cliches)
what hurts are lies. and self-imposed blindness.
     who would hide their own truth? only someone who will never know it's freedom.
     only someone shackled by denial.

ninja? she is stealthy. strange that someone who operates in darkness is a quiet crusader for light.
     (the thing about ninjas is they don't live in the dark. they just work there.)
make no mistake: there is light in her words. there is always light in the truth--even if it's not your truth. but let's face it, it is. at least in part.

hooker? I believe that's just a ruse.
confidence is sexy.

the spy speaks for herself. always one eye on the prize, and the other on the door. for some, work is a prison. for the spy, work is a neverending well and wealth of material.

she is confident, but not self-important.
she is righteous, but not self-righteous.
she is beautiful, but not vain.


Wednesday, June 10, 2015

misery loathes company

she wears it like a badge

not proud, but defiant.
      in the face of her martyrdom.

she is slighted, she is put upon.
she bears the shoulder, missing a chip.

this is her legacy, but she wouldn't tell you it's so.
she would claim otherwise, but for

the actions
the words

who screams louder?

it is consuming, this beast.
it lives and it lurks and it is loathe to let go.
it overshadows all else.

there is love, but it, too, is exhausting
and it struggles to breathe, and in
all the toil and all the tired and all you see

is the misery.