chakhra

surrender
in number four
the vortex of the sacred union
the middle
the start
the end

for that which I feel cannot be broken
for that which I know I cannot bend
will not be torn or discolored or stained

each fiber discrete and perfect here in this tiny sun
this heaving thumping thing just cannot be contained

and I surrender
see my palms trembling white
circles hide my face

I have no song within me for this fight
this mystic battle where I can never do what
is right
by me

so number four dilates, the gap closes
for me
and for my peace
and for my grace

Shake

I can feel it rattling in my chest
banging and clanging
ill-rehearsed orchestra percussion
out of time and out of present

my heart
dried and hard
makes my soft body a pathetic maraca
to be shaken by indifference
and mis-perception

it was once fleshed out
red and whole
connected to the sky by the golden ropes of your love
fluid and fat
until the grave rind of contempt
made it still and dark
an ebony fossil of melody
a relic of song
a dusty artifact of joyous harmony
encased in the shadow box
hanging on the wall
in the back hallway
where no one
ever goes

so maybe I'll play it for you
you will weep with obsequy for my lost hopes
I will move you tears with sadness of my own self-destruction
and you will hear the minor key
of my ill soul

Yoga Wants Me!

I am tottering on the path
of spiritual enlightenment
-unsteady from the coupla-three martinis-
somehow I missed the Buddha
maybe I passed out and he
stepped over my drunken ass
as he strolled blithely towards
Nirvana

I am holding my head
it's still throbbing from the margs
last night
that I consumed in an effort to commune
with a goddess
because I needed to feel that earth mother vibe
as if the sagging tits and stretch marks don't already give me
that distinction

The sharp smelling vines of Gaia grow up and over me
tangle my feet
their Druidian persuasiveness sends their tendrils
and shoots up my leg and that just made me think of my varicose veins

I propelled myself towards Shiva's myriad of
loving arms
but I stumbled out of half-moon before I could see the light
-I think it was the beers I had at 9:30 this morning-
and I skinned my fucking knee on the way down
I'm going to sit here on my ass and deflect the bad fucking chi with my
Chanel knock-off

So lets have a toast, a popular toast that we can all really get behind--
Namaste!!