please don’t tell me to go hug myself

YogaTattooSelf-Hug

I have rose petals on my mind. They are lined up, as if placed mindfully by one person who cared. This person cares that the rose petals were all lined up, each touching, following each other to shore on their path to me. They are floating in the warm ocean toward me, direction swerving as the waves transmute the ocean.

These rose petals have something. They are love, ashore in my life. I am the ocean. I am floating now. This is all that needs to be said.

It is obvious that I have a big heart, and love only men who don’t know how to love yet wear an armor with a heart on it to disguise their brick walls they quickly build when real love—mine—comes along.

That doesn’t diminish my heart. So, Valentine’s Day, please don’t tell me to Go Hug Yourself or imagine your romantic adventures pictured on your billboards. (I plan to eat your chocolate samples and take a nap.)

You, the one I devote myself to, are expecting me to be someone… you’re waiting for it to happen, as if it’s up to me to turn you on by unleashing all of who I am. But in order for me to be all things, I need to do it in the right order. You need to Be Someone too. I need to first get to know your kisses, the look in your eye, the way you hold yourself, how to come closer to or move farther away when you feel overwhelmed, how to know if you’re overwhelmed or actually don’t know how to ask for me to come closer.

If you were here now in front of me, looking into me, I would tell you about my heart. I would tell you about its secret wish that I promised to fall in love and never leave it. It’s hiding alone, willing me to see its angles and curves first that blinded you and me. It is pure, speaking only in silence, waiting for us to argue it away or brush it aside as something else so that then it is what’s left, and believed. It won’t wait now — staring at us, smiling from within, feeling liberated. People will say we are in love.

I want to capture it in a story to tell myself until you are here, and I can practice my endearment speaking not away from you, but into you; I’m not afraid anymore to be real, to be spoken, to be inside you.

You are beautiful to me in ways I knew early on. I wanted to wait though until I felt you inside, until I loved you in the most precious way—from within me. I wanted to wait until the anxiousness and weeds that covered the truth dwindled and blew away, so that the complication wouldn’t ruin us in our sensitive ways, wounded hearts wild and uncompromising.

Caged for a while, with new freedom to be anyone it chooses, it is now volatile and unconditional. It’s safe when loved and alive yet destructive, needing to feel its pain and the process of knowing it’s okay—that love is okay—as I learn to trust my bruises.

When I write to you now, I feel safe finally, as if I have given myself permission (or you have) to love you inside you now, no armor needed. I love you, I do.

© r.e.l. 2/3/15

Published on Rebelle Society 2.13.15

Image source: tumbler (unknown)

you can’t hide that from me

coffee_thoughtYou are an enigma.
This is about you
and the secret you keep behind your eyes.
It’s unreal to me that you could be there for me.
I see your smile
when you look at me from the place inside you
that is for me,
in the moments when we are touching
or even speaking
as if it’s not happening
when it’s what I want the most
to be cherished by you.

You can’t hide that from me.
It’s not unreal.
When you come to me, I see you with a sixth sense.
You have words but are silent.
I can hear you with your eyes that are blue and clear
staring into me.
Just a tilt of you head
as you hide behind your glass halfway
is enough for me to see
all of it.
My breath is gentle as you come closer, seconds taking minutes.
We are in slow motion and I want that to last.
I want to continue to see your heart beating…

You are more real to me than most things.
I want you in a precious way.
A world is formed
without speaking,
not desperate, or touched with broken hearts.
I don’t know what time it is and it doesn’t matter how long we are here.

I can hear you behind your face that cringes
with the power of the world on your shoulders
against us.
I look into your eyes.
I want to know the secret of you
but you won’t tell me
so I find it
through days or weeks,
through many words and senses.
I can hear you still
even in your fingertips
that lightly brush against me.
You want me in a precious way.

I believe in your conviction
to your heart
to your trust
and you won’t lie to me.
I find it through the pauses between sentences, unwritten
or smiles that you can’t hold back
(and lips that know me).

I want to sit next to you and hold your hand
and know you are near.
I want to take care of you,
your emotions, your world,
as if I am holding your hand to help you think.
I don’t want you to ask me questions
because you already know the answers.
I know you are near even when you aren’t.
We already have many questions
with responses
throbbing inside of us.
I want to take you home with me
and get tangled in memories, in us.

© r.e.l. 12/14/14

Published on Rebelle Society 1.3.15

Image source: unknown

as if hidden, you are this

bluetreeI am hidden. Are you? As if to be hidden behind words that speak illusively, at all times, bouncing off buildings and walls. I shoot an arrow and it comes back to me. Some day.

Who are you anyway? Are you the words or are they merely what comes out when trying to speak? There is no time to leave important words unsaid. I speak of eloquence.

Inspirational times with comic undertones spark a tune in another. Sometimes. But, truly, it’s all for you. You who deserve to be timeless and unforgotten. You are where my eyes open to receive what I’m waking up to now. I am here now because you were there and smiled and felt.

Create. Create all you can be. Be creative. Be daring. Be you. I will walk with you, and you will walk with me. But don’t forget to be balanced, be calm and be all that you should be behind the eyes of you. Don’t tell anyone if you falter.

My calling is you, an obligation to fulfill. You are what begs to flow from me, knowing what to make of it along the way, unsuspecting. You occupy the space between sentences, between thoughts that hang and then drop.

You are my arrow I shot long ago. It came back to me with its secret. It told me with its fire: be the you that wakes up in the morning, still groggy, remembering what exactly went on the hours before while dreaming.

Your image burned in my brain fills me with the opposite of order that I need. I let you build up so that I can understand you better. You give me the power to say No. You allow my creative—my unknown—to surge, to cascade. You are endless and you are real. You make me want to write a story, phenomenal, of us. As a river raging knows my name with impatience trickling, in an instant I am known. Finally.

But it’s just me here now writing… and, all I have are my verses wondering how to get through to you. I seem to be writing as if from a distant land when I realize that life without you isn’t possible. I want to stay there in this moment forever. You are the river that I once swam up, I swim again. Stay with me, you whisper.

© r.e.l. 7/17/13

Published on Rebelle Society  5.10.14

[This is Behind the eyes of a writer™: A series, part fourteen. Continuing on from a dedication, part thirteen in Behind the eyes of a writer™ series, I tear you apart in pieces to unglue what you’ve become. Part fifteen in my Behind the eyes of a writer™ series is next]

as blood flowing

by cricketw, Redbubble

your path knows
i heard you say last night
while you were breathing

i vow now
i promise
to include you too,
little soul inside

i hear you
as honest as blood
flowing

it will happen
in the way it needs to
in the most unexpected
moment …

pass into the rite
it’s magic

© r.e.l. 6/4/12

image by by cricketw, Redbubble

posted on Micropoetry (partial)

in the raindrops

you know
that you are
the light
that enters
my dark
the eclipse of you
a mystery
opening the door
to me
to my breath that lies floating now
exposed
lost in the raindrops of
knowing the cracks
in the spaces of us
tell a story we have yet to know
touched by the gap between inhaling and
remembering that you
do not leak out of my life
forever in a moment…

© r.e.l. 1/2/11

painting ‘Light Coming into the Cave’ by yvonca

**this post is for Poetry Potluck Week 17 Journey and The Road Ahead (1/9/11-1/15/11) on Jingle Poetry

Received Kreativ Blogger Award from Jingle Poetry

 

stand still now, precious moment

always dreaming of another way to wrestle with time…

to see my path through the hourglass of dreaming,
of moments that spiral without reason to nowhere specific
except the path
that is meant for me…

are you lost now in nothingness?
i thought you said you trust
the stepping stones you feel
with your barefeet, eyes closed.

you know that time hides behind thorns sometimes…
yet, i thrive
and live with its heartbeat
that never stops to lead its way.

stand still now, precious moment
you pierce me
lead me now to forever

© r.e.l. 12/28/10

submitted to caesura 2/5/14

**this post is for Thursday Poets Rally Week 36 (12/29-1/5/11) on Promising Poets

a broken heart

a smile can speak a thousand words
but it cannot calm a broken heart.
how do you talk to a heart
and tell it to live in the moment
to tell it it’s been broken for a reason?
it has no reasoning
only feeling…

how, after convincing it to open wide
to give itself to another
again going to a vulnerable place
this time because it’s safe
because the other expresses heart and soul,
how do you convince a heart
that its message is received, appreciated with love
but that demons have eaten it
because it was perfect exactly as it was?

how do you tell a heart that it’s ok
to stay open and surrender
when it can think of nothing else
but the last time you told it this
answering its prayers?

how do you tell it that
its karma was shared with another
so you did it no harm
trust me this time and surrender
sent to me from the stars
just your heart in exchange for mine
your soul for mine
to be a colony in which to become each other?

a heart is a star
but it can’t shine when it’s broken
broken because love brings up its brokenness
surrender…
because it’s unknown how long it will take
to heal, if ever.

yet all a heart asks is
why do you walk away from something beautiful?

it does what you say though
and surrenders again…
feeling itself in everything
for guidance
but still it all tells it the same,
that the heart it opened for
is still open
just hidden underneath
and that it should hang on.

© r.e.l. 2/9/08

submitted to caesura 2/5/14

featured on Love Bytes on redbubble

featured on Poetic License Series in may 2011

posted for Poetry Potluck 5/1-5/7/11 doubts, fear, inhibition, hesitation on Jingle Poetry

posted for Poetry Picnic 10/16-10/22/11 on Gooseberry Garden

submitted to Knuckle Sandwich Publishing

your innocent trust

you
who changed my life.

let me be heard.
you felt who i am.
without question.
so, i invited you in…

your innocent trust in true love.
and the spirit of the world always taking care of everything.
you came to me in any moment, as i closed my eyes.

i know you never wanted to leave my arms but, you see, don’t you?  you were meant to.  only you can lift the dark cloud that shadows you.

never will i forget how you heard the writing of my soul, evolving my spiral, to share with me your magical love.

i will always love you.

© r.e.l. 11/22/10

[photo by Cloo Potloot of Belgium]

please let me continue

don’t get me wrong
please don’t
but your energy scares me…
in a way that finding something lost does, long forgotten
it wants me to see
that maybe
somehow
you are the person i have been searching for
although a mirror to see myself
in the same moment…

but isn’t it true
that we all search for the person
who can allow us
to get closer to ourselves?

you seem anxious about the words
you use
as if they make a difference
as if you don’t know that it’s the energy
behind them
that decides.

i observe you silently
and i know you
please let me continue

© r.e.l. 11/12/10

Posted for Poetry Potluck week 18 (1/16-1/22/11) Languages, Signs and Symbols on Jingle Poetry

 

mountains or pebbles

Nobody trips over mountains. It is the small pebble that causes you to  stumble.

Why give the pebble such power over you.  Do what you have to do to simply get past it so that you open the door to the next dream in your heart.

Pass all the pebbles in your path and you will find you have crossed the mountain.

It is as simple as you let it be.  Trust that the unknown can guide you, if in it, you feel awe or fear of knowing the happiness you withhold from yourself.

Even in darkness you can find the pebbles that haunt you.  Pick them up with your small hands and toss them aside, or transform them into something precious by thanking them for their lessons.  Their lessons are your gifts.

Surrender to the dream you were meant to be.

[inspired by an unknown author]

© r.e.l. 10/16/10

 

the art of savasana

The final pose of any decent yoga practice is savasana. It is the place where you reflect upon your entire practice as if it comes before your eyes on a distant cloud.

Some yoga teachers and practitioners believe savasana is the most important pose in yoga, reflecting true peace as the culmination of your practice.

This final resting pose, otherwise known as Corpse Pose, truly is a pose in which to wrap the fruits of your labors or your joys of movement and love for your body.

After moving the precious prana within your body through movements that flow through you, twists that wring out toxins, and peaceful moments in between that take your breath away, savasana is a time to celebrate and smile within in stillness.

It’s a time to celebrate your life force that moves through you, that you may have a tendency to ignore as you move along in your busy day.

To the mind that is still, the whole universe surrenders. ~ Lao-Tzu ~

Savasana does not act alone.  It is the end result of that which came before it.  It is your consciousness in its pure state, which you can see most easily after clearing out impediments in the body, mind and heart, especially with a seasoned teacher who can lead you eloquently through it, in the right vibe.

In this way the meditative state created in the space becomes like a cloud that you can trust and call your own.  As you wind down your practice in a true state of peace, your ending rest has the power to bring you to samadhi, the 8th limb of the Yoga Sutras of Patanjali.

Samadhi is a non-dualistic state of consciousness in which you become one with all that surrounds you, and all of your thoughts connected outside of yourself, in which the mind becomes still, concentrated on one point though the person remains conscious.

If you are lucky you will feel bathed in a purple light.  The true art of savasana is to become as if a body floating in the ocean, weightless and free.

Namaste.

© r.e.l. 7/13/10

lumière

in my mind
i see much that is false
but when your light
ta lumière

shines upon me, upon you
like a star, étoile brillante
the false, the imprisoned
dissolves
and all that remains is
that which is authentic
and true
untouchable
the unbelievable truth…

look through the window,
my dear
this magic
detects only that which
can survive the darkest days
and nights
it removes the rest
leaving us with
all that we dreamed
to see the end, look at the beginning
it whispers to you
–>> remember us.

please use your light
t r u s t  it…
to light our path
that we walk together
hand in hand
to light our soul that we built
with blind faith and two bottomless hearts ❤ <3.

© r.e.l. 6/13/10