Why

With a childlike demeanor she asks the question why.
Every time, of everything.
She asks again, and then rephrases.
She will do so until she understands in only the way she can,
she will not stop asking why.
She cannot stop asking.
The thing inside will drive her mad if she does not ask.
It's a thirst, a desire, an obsession.
To know everything.  To constantly seek for truth.
To weed the make believe out of the story.
The need to know will overtake.
The excruciating need to understand.
Brain on fire, trying to make sense of it.
Of all of it, of what she is, and where she is, and why she is.
The only way she believes she'll ever know,
is to keep digging around her,
to keep prodding,
breaking,
clawing,
and to keep the why alive.

You.

Last night I was watching you as you talked,
and I could see around you a tapestry of everything that has made you, you.
I sensed the home you grew up in, saw your parents, your childhood.
I loved them deeply for without them you would not be you.
I started thinking about all the people that will get to know you
over the course of your life,
and those who won't.
Then I got sad.
Thinking of all the people who will miss out on knowing you.
Friendships you'll never make.
Yet I got picked.  I am rich.  I am chosen.
I am in awe I get to know you, love you, be married to you.

My muse.

My muse.  My mirror.  My guide.

He keeps me in the moment more than I’ve ever been, 

I've realized love is fragile, and precious, 

and I don’t dare to take a second of it for granted.
There is no option other than to be here, now.  

He keeps me in love with our life together.  

I find myself wanting our human experience to freeze in time.  

I don’t want us to grow old, I don’t want us to die.  

I want this.  

There was a time when I longed for anything but,
now I am grateful to be bound to earth.

I am boiled down to my essence, love.  

I am full to the brim.

I am not asked to fit into his already established life, 

instead we are two equals agreeing to build together. 

My wish for you.

My wish for you:
I wish for you to have love.
To keep searching if you haven't found it yet,
and to never settle.
To experience a love that comes easy, 
and not force a fit because you wish it would be so,
or you've told yourself you're running out of time.
I wish for you to follow your truth to love,
because that's where it leads you. 
Every time.
I wish for you to release a love,
if it isn't the right love.
It is a hard and ultimately selfless act
to cut the strings
and free them to seek their love.
I wish for you to love someone more
than you love yourself, or a career.
I wish for you to be relieved, home, made whole, by love.
To be freed and enhanced.
I wish for you to wholeheartedly believe that you deserve love,
that you are perfect and worthy
of love just as you are,
That love is not selfish and does not
have to be conditional.
It should fill you, not deplete you. 
And if it is, and if it does, then it is not IT. 
Keep seeking.
Miracles happen every day. 

7:04

At 7:04 on March 27th, Mars sent down his child to occupy earth.
Spun into solid in the form of daughter she would temporarily belong
to one Lauren and Claude.
Bursting into being, she took her first breath between screams
louder than the average baby.
This 8 lb 8 ounce space traveling freedom fighter had not one moment to spare.

What she knew instantly, was that her bones were made of poetry
and her soul of the fire from her home planet.
She was also old.  This she knew best.  She was weary and worn.
The journey had been long.

She saw children as children and recognized herself only as the wise sage
who had just been sent back, now housed inside this tiny five year old body.
As for the scar on her cheek, she wondered how it would look as she grew.
It faded and vanished and as she got older, and her old age faded too.

She began to adapt and blend into humanity and forget
that in the beginning she knew all.
Nearly forgotten were the endless summer evenings outside
wondering why she was so old and how everything was so clear,
and the way it felt as the end of the last was reconciling itself with the start of the new.

Decades passed and her youth caught up to her
with a tap on the shoulder and a seep into her skin.
She would now temporarily belong.

Her way would be lost, but she would always find it a year or two later in the same orbit
when the time was right, for nothing had ever really gone away at all.

It had only moved.
Out of reach.
For a time.

She would take the form of wife.  And in the future she knew, mother.
And along the way, the alchemy inside the vessel would match
the movement of the cosmos
and whisper with her soul to follow the omens.

And this is where the story stops.
For a minute.  Because this is all we know of it.
The journey will be long.
She is weary.  
But she will continue.  Space traveling, freedom fighting child of Mars.
Because she is young now.  And getting closer each round.

There is something here to do.  It pulls her closer a little more each day.
She temporarily belongs.  And when the final round is up,
the poetry and flames can finally dismember,
streaking the sky, moving onward and upward,
and home she goes to rest.

Pieces

I came across a piece of paper with some bits of words and poetry while spring cleaning.  I wanted to hurry and put them here before I lost them for good.  I've been so busy lately with starting a new job, getting ready to go back to school, meeting with advisors, photo shoots, various other appointments, and filming for youtube.  My head is spinning! Nothing is ever spread out.  Life always feels full blast or standing still.

I'm also going to be writing more this year, and sharing it through spoken word on my youtube channel.  I'm very excited about this.  I've already put up my first.  I wanted to just do it and feel it out, with no outside influences.  Now that it's done, I'm ready to delve deep.  I've spent my day off watching some incredible online spoken word performances.  My learning has begun, and I'm off to see some locals next week.

I always have bits of poems and stories in me but I haven't had a chance to get them all out this week.  I managed the beginnings of something the other day and jotted it down before I left for work.

Here are the pieces of all of the above.  I think I'll start giving you pieces here more often.  When they come and I can catch them before they've gone.

You can translate however you like.

When you wonder how they might pertain...well...sometimes they mean nothing.

And sometimes they mean everything.


* * * * *
3.21.2013

Sometimes I am rendered immobile with worry
I will never be capable of loving anything
but the unattainable


* * * * *
2012

I feel in words.
I document as the only way I know how.
In poem.


* * * * *
Spring 2012 (probably April or early May)

So many pairs of eyes fixed upon a monitor of sorts
that none of us can read or speak or translate
to any sort of comfort or explanation
I cannot take my eyes off my mother.
I see her as she must have ben at five.
She is a child.
Right down to the ponytail she wears
at her big brothers bedside.
We wait.
One collective breath.
This room is so full.
So silent and so full.
The air is rich.
Absolutely rich with memories.
It is palpable.

* * * * * *