Publishing poetry

I have decided to take all of my poetry off of this blog in the hopes that I can find publication. I have found a few places that have accepted some of my poetry, and I am excited to be awakening, or acknowledging the poet that has always lived inside of me. Perhaps I will share now and again just for the shear joy of watching the words paint themselves across the empty page. Love and Light.

~K

Stream

Unconscious mind speaks in limited images. Illusion of self. The pity party has to end. This is not me. I got caught in my own trap and forgetting how to fly, built my own cage. Where is the love? I can't find it anywhere. It is not within or without. I am without much hope now, pretending this thing I live matters. It doesn't, except in the simplest ways. My responsibility tethers me. I long to run into the desert and sing down the moon. A place where no one knows my name. A place where I can be anyone I want to be. This is not me. It is a delusion, a spectacle of everything I abhor. I am stuck within this giant unhappiness, chipping away at the walls. I built them, but how do I tear them down? How do I find a love that is buried so deep I can't begin to know where to look?

One day at a time. Baby steps.

I won't go there

Been dreaming of warmer places...with Reggae playing soundtrack in my head. Fitting. Looking south toward Albuquerque, knowing I have too much history in that town, even though I have only been there a few times in my life.

Letting go takes some kind of courage--a courage I may just not have. I thought I did. I thought I released the past and let it fly away like a free bird, but here it is staring me in the face again. It always comes around again, doesn't it?

I won't go there. To the past. To Albuquerque. The Air Force is poisoning the land, poisoning my mind, ruining everything I thought pure. Even the warm sun on my face cannot erase the facts. Facts speak louder than emotions, and louder than the voices in my head, calling me deeper into New Mexico. "It just isn't safe," says reason to the romantic dreamer. The sun shines here too. And I would miss the sage.