coffeeshop therapy XI

mandala on the salon storefront
gentlemen discussing the process
birds winging through the moist, falling snow
cars slogging in warm winter
pedestrians stop in for coffee,
write down their thoughts and observations

in love

discipline in all things
except in love
in love, surrender to the annihilation
in love, ascendency of unparalleled chaos
in love, vomiting of guttural poetry and affections,
tears, wonder and wounds

and us with the mess of our growing
hands over our ears
at the bestial, celestial music
we couldn't let it in
we couldn't work it out
and leaving, such sweet stupid
staying would have kept us from dying
the death we needed to survive

broke-winged

collapse by your wall of assumptions
fall into feeling and intuitive darkness
suffer the highway sparrow
that hops broke-winged across the exit lane
pleading for the mercy of brake pads and calipers
leave the safety of your vehicle
the comfort of warmth behind
take a step onto the grey blood of healing
its slickness covers the off-ramp
drivers question as they slide
who am I? what have I become?

guardian angel

many rivers
forged and aflame
look behind you
your trail has an angel
sweeping your droppings

your mistakes and personal flaws
the adorable way you dump your problems
at the feet of those who love you
you will pay some day

the angel for a soul more cluttered than your own
with rapturous devotion, you will be cleaning the refuse
of one such as me
for 51 bliss-filled years

Inner work

The shelf-life of mental illness. Coruscating images in the mind’s eye. A change of heart. A sickened soul. Living free from addictive behavior, one day at a time. Formerly, a monster, now a butterfly, or an apprentice-saint. Inner work.

Transformation. A saving thought. Pissing on a rock in the sun. Wheee!! Freedom, like a singular, stellar object. Alone and never having seen another. Spiraling and shooting sparks like a hand on fire, or a truth you can’t shake. Total trust. Forgetting until humility reminds you.