I am sorry for all the times I let you down
They seem to my heart without number
I am sorry I listened to the voices of others
And didn’t try harder to bring your and your Baby girls Home
Then I would still have you
And would have spent so many wonderful moments rocking you all
I am sorry I know what was happening to you were you were
I am sorry I didn’t remember to send you your purple head covering...I still have it
I am sorry I didn’t make you stay the last time I held you at seventeen
I am sorry I was not there when you were pregnant and when you had your little ones
I am sorry I was so selfish and didn’t send you every penny I could find
I am sorry I didn’t write you more
I am sorry my memory is so bad
I am sorry I was there to fight for you to stand between
I am sorry I let you down
I am sorry I was a horrible mom...I didn’t deserve someone as beautiful as you...a Gift..A Star
    I am sorry I didn’t have enough money for a better attorney to fight for your Babies like I promised
    I am sorry your dad and your siblings did secret things and bought them away and now I am forbidden to ever see them
I am sorry I wasn’t with you somehow in the end to hold you once more cradled in my arms
    holding you close gently as I stroke your hair and hum you to your final sleep at twenty-five
I am sorry I was not there to stop your pain
I am sorry I wasn’t there to tell you one more time..I Love you Ginner
...and go with you~

My Best Friend is Gay...Martin

NOT because he is Gay

But because HE IS MARTIN.

We can talk about what ever topic freely

We help one another is each other's tough times

He and I came up with "I CAN'T"....I Can Always Nobly Try.

And we made sure the other stuck to it too whether we felt like it or not.

Martin had a ket to my place and it was no shocker for him to come in and whatever hour after he closed his Rest-Er-Rante` as he called it, climb on in MY WARM bed with his cold feet and start talking.

Next we knew, although we didn't care, was the birds would start singing.

Sometimes we would have a sit in bed and crumb it up movie nite...just because.

I used to joke with Martin he was more female than I was because WOW could be cook/create and I will end cereal before starvation sets in. He was my food rescuer.

Martin would come to see me before heading off to work so I could check out his clothes and make sure everything was straight and he looked "Cool." He always did.

We would steal/borrow each others clothes, comforters, pillows, bathroom items...especially my shampoo.

Martin could sing to make your eyes tear and not in a good way, but all I heard was pure heart.

The walks we would take by the water, our music, he read everything I ever wrote and as I did someting else he would magically appear around the corner look at me and just smile.

We met in '96.'

I moved from my apt to his and his partner's in '97' so we could share costs, but I was the winner there to me.

In time I moved to my own place as did they but I still have two pieces of his furniture and I won't part with them.

I lost My Best Friend in 2000.

Martin, I Love you still and you are STILL My Best Friend.            I miss 'our' times~

There is an unexplainable excitement that comes when you 'somehow' feel the shackles of self-imprisonment fall away. I don't know if you have seen the movie Pirates of the C part 3 where near the end the so called bad pirates on Davey Jones' ship are seen walking towards the captain's deck and all their old trappings of evil, per se`, are falling off them and you see who the person is. That is as close to how I felt that moment I realized I was free.

You do view things different as you now realize, although I have always had a curiosity about other version/view of a thing, that the possibilities are beyond comprehension or rather things it boggles the mind/essence that there is no way to gather it all in. It would take countless lifetimes...Eternity and more.

Even very young I have wondered what I look like to an ant and if there is something that small that I can step on, what/who can step on me? 'Its payback time' thinks the ant seeing me stepped on before I step on him.


HourGlass

There is a globe with the Universe
There is my world within that sphere

There are systems within my microcosm
Each holding a form of its own

Yet together as many wonders
We are one in beauty

For the growth of those about us
We proclaim the scientific realm unimaginable made

Our form is repeated but cannot be reproduced
We each are unique as the Whole


There is a fearful exhilaration I cannot explain nor feel the need to contemplate on more than that realization. For when we stop to muse over something overlong, we become its prisoner and it controls our Time, life, etc. To loose oneself in a thing or person is to indeed loose your deepest center. You begin asking the who, what, when where, how, which are fine, but to not be able to move on in any means because you can't...won't, let go of 'why' is our folly. The damnable Q that really has no answer it anything we attach it to. "Why did she say that?" Well, I could say to you, "re-read what I just said above until you either get it or after no more than 2 minutes move on."

We humans have to MAKE our own limits otherwise look at all the things within Time we have thrown away. The awe of people and Nature and thought...the movement of "To Be."

We also need to stay mindful that even as I am writing this 'I' must stay aware and in control or I can fill pages blathering on seemingly endlessly.
Remember You control unless you give that control away and say to it or someone, "Here John, I am willingly making myself your slave/prisoner because I am not willing to move on to someone else or another subject."

We cannot 'trust' our Self or a fellow human to say, "Hey WHOA Moi`, you need to stop yappin here and go turn that stove off since it is on fire."
WAKE UP!!

& so it is Time to move on.

I can feel when the one within has stopped writing, but it is my responsibility to accept and knowledge it and say...later.

Moi`

Now I Comprehend
Now It Made Clear to Me
I Move on
The Wounders I Leave Behind
Though the Wounds and Scars of past I Bear with this Mortal Frame but for a Time
A Time Only

What and Those I Leave
Can No Longer Harm Me
...Unless I Allow it So

Not by Returning
For I Cannot Go Backwards in My Time or Theirs
But in the Remembering
Do I Welcome it Repeatedly
And So Take up What They Once Were
And So Be My Own Wounder

I Am the Creator of My Own Inwards Sun
As Too I the Creator of Y Own Inwards Darkness
The Choice Is Mine Alone

I Am Not Reborn
Or Born Again
I Am Newly Birthed
With Every Rise I Determine
From Such Depths That I Was First Cast by Their Blades

I Choose No Longer to Remain in Such Mire
Though I Know the Bitter Taste in Heart, Mind, and Spirit’s Soul
Of What ‘Used to Be’
And Freely Admit That It’s Stain Will Remain

Nevertheless
It Is One Part to Wear the Stain
It Is Another
To Make
By One’s Own Choice
That Dead Stain Live
By Trying to Relive What Has Long Been Cemeteried

Let it Rest Where it Once Lived
Past


I Know Not the Where or the Who
That I Will Well Met
As My Eyes Lift
Towards the Horizon of Nite
And of Day

Nor What Wounds There Will Be
For Wounds There Surly Will Be
It Is So in Life

Yet I Make My Choice to Greet Them
With Open View
And Offer out My Too Scarred Hand
Knowing Too Well
That in Return My Hand May Bleed Once More

But How Will I Ever Learn Companion from Foe
If I Do Not Step out and Offer

How Easily it May Be
That in My Withholding
I Close Myself
To the One Who Would Mate Be
And Thus Enclosed
Remain My Own Echo

Such Free Words Flow from Me
That I Race to Write Them down
So Great Is My Joy
That What Was Darkness
I Now See Clearly Through
That There Was Nothing There to Fear Anyway
Just My Own Image Mirrored Unexpectedly

And Laugh Softly at Myself


Given in All Gratitude
To Darksong & Lion

Moi` Born October 13, 2009

A Vow Given

To be a Friend..A TRUE Friend is a solemnly honoured Gift

To give your word is to give a vow

To give a vow to someone is to give it to all Creation and before the Creator

To give a vow is to place it on your soul forever and always

To give a vow is to give part of your Self

We have  thrown Love and Promise around so often

It has become a replacement for ‘like’

And so made cheap and meaningless

What then when it come to one who knows the price of being a True Friend?

Those who have had a vow broken become a prisoner of their own making

Walling out all voices and hands

Not knowing or trusting that if the hand is offering or another taker

If the voice is speaking ‘with’ you or ‘at/to’ you

The only loser is the Wall Maker

Do not give your vow lightly

Or receive one without thought

Consider with great measure the toll

Before you answer ‘yes’ wait awhile

And listen, watch

That the offerer fathoms the profound meaning of what they are promising

So too consider long the cost being asked of you to yourself

Be it with a Friend or one that Promises I Love you as only a Mate should

Remember that a True Friend and a True Mate KNOWS there is another side to a vow

Not every moment is filled with heart bursting happiness

Many tears are birthed as well

When I have been given a vow of Friendship or Love

I stop them and talk with them of my belief

And then ask them if they are sure they meant what they said

Sometimes they answer Truthfully “No”

And sometimes I hear I Love you again

Yet that does not mean they speak the Truth and you will not be pained still

Nevertheless

Should you be betrayed know that it is on their soul and not your own

As you spoke in Truth

So you are no fool

Unless you think Loving someone in all honour and Truthful vow

Is only what a fool does

You were honourable

And so hold you head up so your eyes meet the Sun rise and set

It does not void the sorrow

But it removes the unjust shackles you have placed on yourself

From True Friend

What ache fills my ink tipped quill

For such a one that in writing Mates

None such do I find that fathoms my words

Ever pressed down by those whose minds are closed locked unwritten books

My spirit cries out to not only be heard

But equalled

Known

Where in this vastness is One whose passion is the lines and curves placed to rest on sheets of pastel

Who when met we thrill at the others verse

And so we converse with fingers flying of our writer's soul's heart

Answer for answer

As two river converging

Doing with such ease

That which others try to do by other enervated means

What quilling joy is our

When at last we meet one such as our Self

More than Friend

We are Writers~