Stream of Consciousness


Where does the river go?

She mused on life.

Such ripe beginnings to tempt the mouth,

The belly full with fecund growth.

The soul divided by love and hope.

The divine incarnate, the ebb and flow.

When to stay and where to go.

She wandered along the humid banks,

Immersed in silent gratitude,

The sky white-faced,

The sun wore grey.

Long leaves simply watched,

And she went away.


Conjugated Love

BushLoveI’m drunk on possibilities. You know, one of those moments when you want to say I love you guys, to the ex who I truly loved, the friends who I love present tense and the people who I will love in the future. Life is so fucking conjugated. And yet so simple.

The spaces between…

It’s the spaces between,

Advised the tree.

You have to know what you are looking at.


The blue-eyed sky

Blinked clouds,

Held her head high, stayed mute.


It’s the beyond,

Called the sea,

Freedom is not an illusion.

It’s ebb and flow.


She turned from the mountain,

The city glittered below.

Don’t be long, whispered Nature,

You know seasons change.


It’s the spaces within,

Bark prodded her back,

You have to know what you’re looking at.



I am totally, unconditionally,

In the present moment.

With women bathing,

Sun seducing,

Wind blowing, sweet

Caresses on my naked

Limbs curled,

Back bent,

Hands busy,

With pencil


On the brink.

River calling,

Trees blessing,

Sky floating,

Canvas waiting,

Goddess gracing,

Nature offering.

I receive.

I’m blessed.

I rest.

If the grass was any greener

If the grass

If the grass was any greener,

I would not stop crying

Tears of joy.

I could not,

Can not,

Delight any more,

Than this moment

Of perfect composition.

If the sky was any bluer,

My smile would break,

The injustices that crouch

In the dark corners,

To shine with delight

In every stolen moment.