self image

genius

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Genius

seems to come

at a very steep price.

Typically,

heavy drugs

for a gifted musician

or

egregious infidelity

for a talented athlete.

Why?

The weight of The Pedestal,

the unrealistic expectations,

the Godlike projections?

Or dizzying fame

borne too quick & too young,

allowing no adequate time

for a stronger foundation?

Always a similar story,

a shared humanity,

the need to escape the anxiety,

that knawing

lethal

relentless

core belief

of innate

unworthiness.

Alas, nowhere to run,

the angst always comes back.

Some heal, eventually learn.

Others, they cannot return.

sweetness

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not enough

then

suddenly

too much!

something missing

what?

a yearning 

for sweetness,

release

from discipline,

a tipping point

of sorts,

can no longer run

or hide

sadness

disappointment

fear?

of what?

barely space

between internal stimulus

and its well-trodden response.

a mere taste

then

suddenly

the deluuge,

surrendering to the waterfall.

a deep

familiar

insatiable

hunger

for sweetness

presence

purpose

excitement

reasons

any

to be

here

now.

out of Sight, out of Heart

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I forgot about you,

kidnapped

“living” underground

for years

amid  “strangers”  –

fellow humans

traumatized

traumatizing

using you

as mere means to a bitter end

playing a destructive game

of cat & mouse

in an endless cycle of

tit for tat.

I forgot about you

focused on the thousands

above ground

having their ground

children

lives

shattered to pieces

relentlessly

by the traumatized

traumatizing.

I could see them.

I couldn’t see you.

Out of sight,

Out of Heart,

I learned

about self –

humbled,

horrified,

human.

summer

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always so activating,
the summer months,
for me:
so much skin exposed,
flesh seemingly everywhere-
breasts
legs
midriffs
butt checks-
all as overwhelming
and stifling
as the humidity
and the heat
and that inner voice
incessant speak:
“cover up and hide,
yours is not a body
for display to the outside.”

We Fall Down

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I forget –

often –

just how much I am privileged

and blessed,

allowing The Darkness to rise

and My Light to then subside.

Ironically,

gratitude never ceases,

it remains steadfast,

knowing this resurrected Shadow shall too pass.

Surrendering,

I will remember:

we fall down,

become lost,

and are –

eventually –

re-found.

Letting go,

I slowly begin to dissolve

that desperate,

terribly frightened façade.

Breathing deeply

and in-tentionally,

re-leasing lineages of conditioning

and very old stories,

the tight knots

in heart and belly

begin to relax,

they unwind.

I return –

once again –

to some humble

Presence of mind.

OLD

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i look in the mirror
and feel old–
outdated
faded.

i am looking through the lens of fatigue,
a tired body is ill at ease,
not always accurately does its mind perceive.

pulchritude has never been my currency,
the first thing most people see in me-
that which lent validity.

living in a world that places so much value
on physical appearance,
i mastered the art of dis-appearance–
learning to hide deep inside;
shrink from severe lack of confidence;
stuff the pain with food
in lieu of alcohol or cocaine.

now, I mature,
a process treated with great contempt,
as if it were manure.

the gift of getting older
is that One gets bolder!
You tend to give
less of a fuck
to the ego
and the others
who think you just plain suck.
Ain’t nobody got the time
for that drama and fuss.