The Monkey

Inanimate surrogate mother

Made from wire and wood

Each infant becomes attached

To its particular mother, choosing


Bare wire

Or cloth-covered

In time

With tests of deprivation

Despite the milk available at the wire mother’s teat

The infant clings to the cloth mother

Only leaving when survival deems

To retrieve the milk from cold and steel


These experiments

Although primate-focused

Describe a haunting similarity

Between the mothers I was asked to choose from

Not a straight correlation

But the tendency

To favor machine-made meals


Of her cigarette smoke rage infused ones

This choice, reminds me

Of these grasping creatures


My odd preference

For the mechanically measured

Hermetically sealed

Thick and milky liquid

For the vending machine’s

Savory chemical noodle brew

For the gravy-laden chunks

Of distant crafting hands

Poured cold from freshly popped tin


These give me comfort


I am wary of anything made by someone who sees me

Suspicious of the homemade meal

I fear a strange possibility of poisoning

From the farm-fresh hands of the local chef

He, smiling to feed

I hunger for the package

To see the numbers, ensuring

To see the seal, broken open only by me

To have no idea who it was that made the food

To know they had no idea I’d eat it

To know that their spells

Could never be intended specifically for my destruction

Like her’s did

Like mine did

Although consciously huffing

At such silly paranoias


This gives me comfort


Inanimate surrogate mother

Made from wire and wood

Each infant becomes attached

To its particular mother, choosing


As usual, I am the odd monkey out

Whereas my brethren cling to the cloth

I seek the chilled, impersonal wire

It’s safer that way

~Image and topic inspired (and haunted) by Henry Harlow’s primate experiments: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Harry_Harlow


What I Wish I’d Said

Photo by Kat Smith on Pexels.com

From the beginning

This voice restrained

All the things, hovering, circling

All the things felt, unsaid

All the things feared

All the things shamed

All the things



What I wish I’d said


Where did you go

And why didn’t you reach out to me

For so many years

Not even a word?

These little lips

Too young to know

How to lay down letters

And vulnerable abandoned fearful heart

How to weather the blow

When I saw you, your eyes guilty

I had no idea, the secrets you held

All I did was hug you and left those words

And slimy hisses



What I wish I’d said

That I was still grieving

That I appreciated your rescue

But all around me

His dripping cloak of death still haunted

My yearning for him

Still pulled me

Spiraling towards the other side

Instead I smiled and pretended

But eventually my body betrayed me

And became deathly ill

Leaving no choice but to turn from you

At the approaching altar


So many times

She’s spoken what I couldn’t

In all-consuming



What I wish I’d said

That I was terrified of your energetic penetration

Your constant appearance in my dream

Controlling, controlling

That I felt suffocation

And reminders of

Narcissistic domination

Forced violations

Despite your fair appearance

Probably from some Karmic tie

Your energy field reminded me of

I wish I would have told you

That’s why I impaled you

And roared away


What I wish I’d said

That yes, I very much liked you too

So much you don’t even know

But that I couldn’t do this, here, right now

That the fear of the amount of joy I felt around you

Only foreshadowed the depth of pain

And death

That would eventually come

Not knowing how or if I could make it through


Not knowing if I could face

All the shit that might scream

While you hold me

Not knowing if I could deal with

The terror of the drama

And of being on the hotspring fishbowl stage

With all of the watchers

And whispers

And projections

Attempting to rip tender sprouts apart


So many times I looked at you

And wanted to say

But didn’t

Instead, I lied

I wasn’t disinterested

I was terrified

I was totally in love with you


And you

That no, I didn’t want to move quickly

That instead I’d rather share hearts and eyes

To not bypass these feral creatures begging

But I didn’t

And we crashed into each other

Our subconscious claws protecting, slashing

We crashed

And burned that shit to the ground


And you

How of course I wanted to kiss you

But what might be unleashed

These uncontrollable undertows

Haunting chains and misery

And whipping rage of eons ago

Busting through this flesh

I didn’t want you to see me

I didn’t want to see me

I didn’t want to slice you

I just couldn’t

So instead I turned away


And you

I wish I would have said

I am confused

By the energy you’re sending me

Is this a friendship, or a date?

I don’t really care

Can we just be clear here

So the shit doesn’t get squirrely

So my heart doesn’t start raging

At the back and forth and eventual ghosting

Of weird energies

And assumed needs

I wish we could just say it

I feel this energy

I don’t want to be in a romantic relationship with you

But a friendship would be fun

Or I can’t be in this connection right now

How hard is that to say

But how weird that neither of us said it

And instead

The magical vortex we danced in



Disappeared into the mist



And now

Here comes the same lesson

Frustrating but so similar

I almost have to laugh

You, like he, come close

We feel the energy, fire sparking

A short dance, intensity, closeness so palpable

We don’t talk about it

Your need for space

My need for communication

Shit gets weird

In silence

Claws out

And there you go




What I wish I’d said

What I wish you’d said

When will we start talking

When will you start talking

When will I start talking

Stepping past the fear

And into what’s Real

I’m so hungry

For what I wish I’d said


Pain Body

There was one thing you said

(It actually pissed me off at the time)

That I now see is true

“There’s such an intense pain-body around you”


I dismissed it

As your rationalization, jab

For why I didn’t want to be involved

A unicorn dancing once more

In a loveless matrimonial tie


While perhaps that’s correct

While perhaps a wise woman sensing

The statement you hoisted

That statement is true:


Like so many

Have an enormous, unexplainable field

An invisible armor, always at the ready

To attack

Anything that comes in too close

And reminds of unconscious catastrophy

Its hairs bristle, teeth expose

Protecting, protecting


Unable to manage, primal

Mind goes murky, tongue ties

Frustration sets in

As I feel the rage of eons

Simmering, thrashing in my field


She roars, silent

Recounting unintelligible

Trauma chants

Pushing like the crown

Too large to exit the canal

Nowhere to go


(External trained and unrevealing)

Against her ancestral cage


To hold and dismantle these plates

Requires more

And to this point

I’ve found nothing

I don’t want to be your mistress

Your fill-in, rebound lay

This same repeating pattern

Pulling me into its spiral

To learn over and over again


I bump against it, attempting

And am taken down repeatedly

I back away

I slither

Away from this gigantic roaring hoarde

Ignoring, avoiding

Ignoring, avoiding

In my temple

Of ritual and aloneness


Pretty good

At controlling

This pain body activation

Only marginally triggered by passersby

But when You come in close

When you completely step over Her line

(Most just avoid Her quills)

Here I am

Aware of Her pulsing, raging, fiery breath

Dominating and confusing reality

Taking over

Emanating miasmic sludge

My power lost, understanding decimated

Head hung low

Cup clanking on prison steel

Each time

She’s here waiting for me

For You


This pain body, hovering, enmeshed


I’ve attended others’ for so long

But Her? Rarely do I hold Her, fully

Explore Her, listen to Her

How could I?

Like the Void, She’s massive and yet elusive

Nothing’s prepared me for this task

I stay safe, in patterns and routines

Of nun-monkhood

While She waits, simmering



This Pain Body

When You come in close

When You completely step over Her line

(Most just avoid Her quills)

Here I am

Aware of Her pulsing, raging, fiery breath

Dominating and confusing reality

Taking over


It’s true


A Ritual Of Death

Oh Great Ones

Well and healed lineages from Beyond

Help me, help me

To bring Death


Death to the old way

Death to the outworn patterns

Carving catabolic caverns in my heart

To the demons, circling

Ripping quivering potential

To shreds


O Great Ones

Well and healed lineages from Beyond

Help me craft, by candle

A ritual of their Death


A ritual of honor

Of the many ways they’ve served

Of the protection, shielding

I’ve needed for so long

The Old Ones, shrouding

I require you no more

It is time


Help me

Craft ritual of their sacred slaying

Psychopomps, I call you

To guide them Home

Beyond this body

Standing now, in safety


Oh Great Ones

Well and healed lineages from Beyond

Help me line the altar with silver blessings

To spread the path with dark kisses and heart

Sword gleaming, turning

Sending, parting

Across and through the veils


Help me

Help me let them

Help me let them

Help me let them die

Help me, release, return, unemcumber

These loyal soldiers

Give them honorable Death

So that I

May Live


Oh Great Ones

Well and healed lineages from Beyond

I am ready

I am willing

Like a great tree,

Sad to see its cloaking






Sad to see

This turning

Of such loyal, long time protectors

But knowing


The time has come



Four hundred years later

The General appears

At first taken by her, giddy

He leaves gifts and poetry at her door


Not especially interested, but clarified

She nods kindly, shows him the gate

Her boundary

And sees him on his way


Yet she senses something coming

Murky tendrils weaving, invisible

As he looks back, a subtle leering

Rippling the quantum, rippling


She’s wondering

Whether to prepare or forget

Defense has long worn out its usefulness

She puts

Her sword down


Over time

The notes keep appearing

The gifts somehow making their way

Across the gate, the line


Cloaked in saccharine


She realizes the need

She stands at her doorstep

She waits for him

And when he appears

She looks into his dream-filled eyes

And draws out

Her blade


She clarifies

She slices through

The thick projective miasma

She points its tip at each stake

Of her picket

She calls him

To look


Woozy, smirking

His gaze wafts playfully


He sees it, eyes widening

This gate

As if for the first time

And realizes his slumber


Embarrassed, he steps back

And away

She remains


As his body pivots and strides

Fake confidence towards his city

This time the leer

Has turned cold

Something’s coming

She knows


Next morning sunshine

Greets her

A soft fur winding against her leg

And she walks to the gate, curious

Of the note tacked upon it

She pulls off the memo

And feels its searing

She drops it

Watching it fall to the cool earth


Crouching, wary

She reads the now dampening parchment

Not too surprised to see


Emblazoned upon it

And lengthy explanations

Of her wily ways

Of deceiving and be-spelling


Saddened, she knows him

This General’s story

Of tending his own Anima

Cruel and illusory

Suicidal and death dealing

His own loving

Entwined with the torture he served


This story, it keeps repeating

It is his, it is hers


She pierces the memo

The tip of her sword saves her

She brings the burning accusal

Walking, sword outstretched down the roadway

To a small clearing in the wood


Here a brook babbles

And hawks sing

And she sets a space

And she calls to the wise ones

And she gathers the waters

And she hums


Here, she immerses

The age-old fires

Of trauma, projection and cruel self-story

Into rock’s crevice, holding

Waters trickling from her hands, heart

Waters holding, cleansing for a better way

Washing her past, his

Tending the blood wounds seeking

Mouths hungry to be healed

She offers, she offers

Iron Goddess of Mercy

Iron Goddess of Mercy


She sits

And waits

Letting the sunlight peeking sparkle

Upon the cleansing pooltide

With the pain

And sorrow dissolving within

Knowing her hands, her mind

Indeed offer healing

To re-member

To re-story

To let the old die

To create space

For the new


Hawks circling

Cries piercing the air

Holding her

Sonic, salving the lineages

With their love

She knows not

What may come

Of the General

But dirt beneath her toes

And wind against her skin

She holds clearly

What she knows

She is





Vision, Quest

Vision Questing for a Vision



Crying, Quest

Crying Questing for a Vision



Fasting, Quest

Fasting Questing for a Vision




Does this shadow hold the keys?

Full participation

In village witness

Ceremonial holding

Mythological re-weaving

Does this shadow hold the keys?


Far off in dusty deserts

This rite beckons

But not now, not yet

For now, it is receiving



Receiving, Quest

Receiving as Questing for a Vision


Fullness, Quest

Fullness Questing for a Vision

Sitting with waves of terror

Receiving, not fasting, cracking open

Feeding, ceremony

On wild lands, hawk and vulture witness

Sitting out, sitting in

Circle, Utiseta


Utiseta, faring forth

Journeying, singing ancient emblems

Into Winds

With fullness, receiving

With pleasure, receiving

With sacred witness, receiving

Midnight forests holding me


Sitting out

Taking in

Singing out













She rises, arms outstretched

A bright beam penetrates the pane

Lap warming

A moment, with feline vibrations

Soft fur, gliding beneath palm

Transitioning, transitioning


Dream to waking


A vision emerges, the image nation beckoning

A purpose, a plan, a grand plot for the day

It fills her with Fire, an excitement for living

To do this one thing, this one thing

In the minutes of the sun


Hand gliding

Across feline vibrations

All mindforms redirect to this creation

And a deep sigh comforts for what is beyond

She pauses, she opens, she forms


Without deliberation, she’s now in the kitchen

Feeling into what deliciousness can be received, as fuel

Her senses guide her, plump peaches gleam

The cool, smoothness of vanilla to greet them

She feels, with her mind

A dancing across her tongue



Without deliberation

She’s pulling them close, plopping and slicing

Swirling admiration of how chunk and silk and silver

Arrange in vessel


Together, inside her, without deliberation

A deep sigh comforts for what is entering

Fuel for the larger, the beyond, that which keeps beckoning

The vision, beyond, this sense explosion

Calls to her


Satiation guides, and she rises

Now letting the cool water trickle over

Clearing, clarifying the weighty brown ceramic

The spoon

Gleaming, gleaming in her wet hands


And pulsing, now, stronger

The visions, grand purpose

Call her, undeniable strength

Away from the kitchen

She knows not when she’ll return

She trusts it

And full belly moves into

Manifesting the dream


The sensation explosion

Controlling, plotting, leading into, moving out of

No longer is all that matters

The visions, grand purpose

Calls her, undeniable strength

Away from the kitchen

She knows not when she’ll return

The feline, vibration, reminds her

She trusts it

And full belly moves into

Manifesting the dream


Knocking, Reversed

The vibrations, jarring

(I don’t want to do this again)




Same story, same outcome

They’re always trying to use the System




She, she’s knocking, I know that vibration

(I don’t want to do this again)

Open, I see you

Rage, like lightning, bolts through

Attacking, jousting

All I want to do is slay.

Slay that demon inside you

Wake you up from that dream

Get you off your sorry-ass victim horsey.

Usually, I win

Usually, I penetrate

Usually, I hear my voice echo, triumphant

Over yours


So much


But this time

(I don’t want to do this again)

You’re not responding

You’re not fighting

You’re not reacting

This, this seems to be a different kind

Of demon

And I look in your eyes

And you look into mine

And I don’t know who is what

And my voice cracks

And I stumble.

Remembering, quickly remembering

I shore myself up

And pretend

But you standing

But you looking

But you, curling hand back to heart


Something is different.

My heart hurts

And I feel very strange

But I know what I have to do

And read off of

The system generated steps

The typical offered plan.

I’m thankful for this script

As my center is evaporating quickly

My tower crumbling

(I’m a good builder so I quickly replace the bricks)

But you standing

But you turning

But you, not fighting

I’ve forgotten what’s next

I just watch you walk away

I just watch you walk away

I just watch you walk away

And try to forget

I don’t want to do this again



Photo by Jonathan Borba on Pexels.com

Limping, exhausted, overwhelmed

I arrive at your door


I’ve stayed away from this portal

As for so many years

Over and over

When it opens,

It hurts.

This door of “healing”

Systemic scientifically proven

Cold lenses full of

Twisting realities


Preconceived notions

Tales of resistance and



I say

A word.

I’ve been trying to find my way out here


Amongst the wind

Amongst the death

Amongst the hopelessess, terror and fear

Amongst this collective self-destruction

I’ve been trying

Trying to see myself anew

Trying to see this world anew

Trying to hold hope, shining

That really, there’s something sacred going on

That really, with faith, we can make magic

That really, these wounds are teachers

Showing us the way home

If we could listen.

If we could listen.

I’ve been grateful

I’ve been in surrender

I’ve adapted

To the incredibly tiny trauma world

That keeps me, and perhaps you, safe.

But now the nightmares

Now the pain

Now the plummeting evidence of lifeforce

Declining earth within me

Stares back, gaping.

Now, body revolting

Now, soul refusing

This cage, ancestrally repeating.

I know what will help me

The vastness, potential of deep soma, holding

Facing terror with arms around me

But lacking privilege

I turn to the only source I can afford



This time it will be different.

I pray to the invisible potentials

To show me something different

To open me to something new

To help me stretch beyond my assumptions

Of what I will be met with.

I show up at your door

Limping, exhausted, overwhelmed

Frustrated at my own failed heartful attempts

Frustrated that the spiral keeps spinning

That my mind keeps collapsing

Frustrated that I’m here, again.


The door opens

You stand there

And instead of holding

Instead of asking

Instead of listening

Once again

You hold out your list

And begin to remind me

Of the mistake you see me as

Of all of my failures

Of what I should have done

Could have done

Were I really “ready.”

My mouth opens

My voice tries to speak

My fires try to rise, defending

This wounded one, returning

But blankness prevails

Although simmering beneath

Silence prevails

All I can hear is the next item

On your system-generated list

My hand retreats

From its hopeful opening

Back into my chest

Curled inward.

At least this time

My frozenness thaws

So I can see

So I can see your heart, broken

Your wildness, shackled

Your soul, grieving

So I can see,

And finally walk away.


Away from knocking,

I step out of the stream of your misery

And back into my own Love





Photo by omar alnahi on Pexels.com

It doesn’t take much these days

Oh were we back in the olden times

Where choices and new adventures

Brought excitement



Where choices and new adventures

Didn’t just collapse her

Today, she stands at the refrigerator

Yearning for a way out

But choosing

The Same


Its an over and over again thing

The thing that keeps her safe





Ironic, that

What once was crafted for safety

Now imprisons her

High above, crumbling

Standing at the edge, frozen

Standing at the refrigerator, frozen

Standing in the face of

His pulsing and

Unexplainably overwhelming

Energy, frozen

Standing before the page of purposeful, frozen

Standing before the questions, frozen

Standing before the gaping maw

The Invitation of her life,

Her one precious life, frozen


She chooses the same

Where less always makes it better

Just to thaw a little

Does she





He asks her

Unconscious, profession

What’s wrong with you

And she replies


But Nothing to be put into words

For your system to compute

And come to tidy conclusions

That exist manually, chemical


Everything is wrong

Despite emergency lacking

And what she needs is support

To find the voice within the terror

Within the Shutdown

Digging way deep

And perhaps far back


Beyond what meds can do


To finally find Her

And where she’s been


For so long

The collapse of mind

The mush of executive function

The wordless, stammering

The blankness, the blankness

Everything is wrong

But Nothing to be put into words

But Nothing that fits into old paradigms

But Nothing to be medicated




A Shutdown

Its the only clue, left without crumbs

How then

Will She


Be found?