If God could answer

Hanging on the cross

collecting the dross

on the doss

the dole,

of having a soul

what are we but clay pots collecting water?

no we are more and always have been

the views we have seen

the rhythms from the heart

the frequencies of our words

the skies, the birds

the moaning of love making

cell division shaking

through separation

like salt dissolving in water

and yet we are sons and daughters

trying to identify with our identities

yet eventually returning to the soul we came from

our bodies returning to dust

but our soul remains

in the Everglades.

The God detective

The God detective

Through out my life my abstract mind has been able to detect and find patterns in life and the words people say. I know that life is a deeper mystery than people in the field of science and psychiatry think.
I have battled with my demons, demons which I still battle. I rattle the cage fight in the desperate stages and write in the pages of my own story. I maybe a dragon falling off the wagon of sanity. However I am intrigued by her she is the greatest story I will ever gain. I know her name is Sophia she is the girl with many faces.

I still see her sometimes though it’s strange the voices quieten and sometimes even stop. Is this a coincidence?

Art by Zoe Zass

I have loved you across lifetimes

Burning bright and resilient

burning and brilliant

I love yous unsaid

I held the key to heaven

in my right hand

it was to the back door

I broke into her house to tell her I loved her

I knew her across life times

I am in conversation with the goddess

now I am in distress

I love her nevertheless

she said she’d read all my poems

she speaks to me in my head

and tells me she hates me

but in songs she tells me she loves me sometimes

Sophia I hope you find your wisdom

and the key I threw away

I loved you across life times

did you know?

I just want to go home

Without you I am bird with broken wings

I cannot sing

Always Start with hope

when you begin your journey,

start with hope

when you build your castle,

start with hope

when you plant your tree,

start with hope

though the night may draw in

and you may lose sometimes

and bruise your skin

remember that hope

and don’t cave in

when you’re at a disadvantage

like when I was born with blue feet with the chord wrapped around my neck

when people said I’d never amount to anything

because they respected my mental health diagnosis more than me

they didn’t see the hope inside my heart

start with hope

that’s the only way

to fight on in darkest of days.

Love in the midst of pain

In the midst of pain

lies love

that shields us

it sustains our hopes and dreams

it doesn’t silence sadness

but let’s us open up

we all drink from a cup of love

even if sometimes feels

like it’s a small fairy cup

we won’t give up our longing

for people and places

faces that smile warmth

even in the darkest of stories

love shines through

it gives us happiness sometimes

and gives us unwavering faith to keep going

the seed of our growth

bitterness and hatred

aren’t the abating of love

they are merely the twisted distortions

of love

and if we understood that

we would once again understand

that love can save us all just reach out your hand.

There are galaxies inside of me

There are galaxies inside of me

waiting to be explored

there are stories to be told that leave you wanting more

that are religions in the chaos of my mind

but am I blind to all the possibilities

Fed by science’s facts

the love in my heart set on targets I will never reach

the knowledge I will never preach

the words I won’t speak

but I am the madness

the chaos the light the order the darkness

I am the shadow of a prophet a wizard’s fairy tale…

There are no Hollywood endings

I am sending you my hopes and prayers

but I swear there will be no Hollywood endings

I am sending you my dreams and aspirations

born of perspiration

and tears

But there are no fairy tales here.

Set sail for distant lands

But it’s all just dust and sand

I know there is magic I heard it on the freezing breeze

in the coughs of old men

but life can’t give you a happy ending

you have to find it yourself

and accept it for what it is…

Authors of the great myth

Given the gift

of sight

we fight and wrestle

nestling

in escapism

but it’s a prison.

she is out there

Sophia the goddess of wisdom

she spoke to me when I was 7

now I am nearly 37

I hear her voice

like yin and yang

Speaking her words to me

Am I just hearing things?

Is my mind just broken and in a sling?

Or am I just another author with a gift?