Tag Archives: love









I’m here

doesn’t mean

be mean

don’t say what you mean

lean into your dislike

of my fight

let me know what’s wrong

what’s right

I’m here

doesn’t mean

don’t say

how you feel

forget to be real

imagine you’re in a soap opera


you’ve seen on TV

you forgot you were free

you have choice

your voice

is a spiritual instrument

that provides nourishment

or disease

I’m here

doesn’t mean

look down on me

tell me my lipstick is missing

when I never bought it

or bought into it

I feel fine

sometimes I drink wine

sometimes I hang with this

or that one

I’m not ashamed to have fun

tell me my clothes are not right

tell me my shoes are too bright

when you put up a fight

that’s how I know I’m alright

Home Is

the bees are coming
safely home
never wanting a sweeter flower
always knowing where
good is
it’s in the heart
the center
forcing you to wait
on the outside
on the periphery
looking in
and thinking
oh how sweet it is
as a question
not knowing that
home is open
with brightness
to be kissed
and completed
the bees are coming
they are loud
and shaking
they are vibrating
every bit of air around them for a hundred feet
they want you to know
they see it
they feel it
radiating permanence
home is
where the heart is

Honour Killing

There is obviously
no honour in killing
but we kill
and we say it’s because
we valued that life so much
that it shamed us
when it did that
or said that
or wore that
or ate that
or made that
or destroyed that
there is obviously
no love in killing
but in India or Pakistan
we kill
and we say it’s because
we loved that life so much
that it shamed us
when it left us
when it hurt us
when it told on us
we made it believe in
things that only we thought
were right
were good
were normal
but in reality
there is obviously
no sense in killing
when it takes so much
just to have a life
and only the forces of nature
can take us away without explanation
because there is God in it
seeking balance
what balance can we give
when we are unbalanced
and create our value
by showing others we can kill
only existing to kill
is not existing at all
only existing to kill
is dying
even a cow knows it
that’s why Indians
don’t kill them

Moving Love



Moving Love 

is love that sifts through

all the forms and

persists passed all




that suck

the blood from you

when you’re dead

in the grave

moving love


moves forever