I realized today that I have
stopped living life.
I am literally just trying to get
to the next day, just living in the
thought of tomorrow.
I am not living, I am waiting.
And the trouble is, I don't know what
I am exactly waiting for. I am kind of
scared for what it might be.

Dancing dancing, twirling twirling, singing singing a song.
A jump, a leap, a skip, a hop.
Your arms reach up, yes all the way to the top.
You body moves to the sweet sounding music as you joyfully sway along.
You dance! You sing! You see the light!
Ah yes! Ah **! Look at you now, your eyes shine with happy delight!
Be happy, be joyous, come dance with me.
And in the end may we finally sit down and share secrets under the apple tree.
Tee-hee, Tee-hee. Isn't it so much fun to dance with me?

You see, that was just it.
You were like a tree, planted to stay.
While I was like the wind, blowing away.


-m.n.

The word became flesh.

My flesh became a poem
that entered you
and the word grew
within you and a poem
blossomed from your mouth
which I took back into mine.

Flesh, poem, flesh...

perfection of dance,
perfection of union,
intimate perfection,
the  perfect unbroken circle:
enchanted, sacred, whole.

~mce

You should be here with me
My heart is as empty as the side of the bed that you used to sleep on
And my life's crashing harder than the waves on the shore like when you first kissed me
And I'm falling harder and faster into loneliness than I was when I fell for you
And I know there's no stopping this
But you should be next to me
Kissing each freckle on my arm and tracing "I love you" into my palm because each letter deserved it's own recognition for it made up a larger picture
And you should be next to me
With my head leaning onto the very shoulder I spent entire nights crying into
You should be beside me
But I guess this was all besides the point
And now you're next in line for a new girl
I just wish you would give me a next chance

Despite the fact that he doesn't drink coffee--
he hates the way it smells--
He sits in whatever coffee shop I am,
And watches me sip my coffee black.
So my soul has decided that this is love,
That this is truly love,
And I never had a say in the matter at all.

shoulders rested on
compassion emulated
kindness cost nothing

“History is a nightmare from which I am trying to awaken.”*

History is gravity
pulling me helplessly
into time's abyss.

Forty-five years ago
the sound of guns

in Cambodia,
in a small Ohio town.

I am not
responsible for what
I could not
prevent.

Such a thankless truth.

Do your best
and get on with it.

Leave the lost wars
where they belong:
eternally lost.

Stop trying to explain
what you don't understand.

Do not listen
to the chattering
of Hungry Ghosts.

Walk in the Now
if you hope
to keep walking
at all.
   ~mce

Your pretty dress
pushed up
to your hips;
your boots kissing
the small
of my back;
that is a ride
I want to take,
a picture
to hold close
forever.
   ~mce