My Father's Name

Kepano, The Wanderer. My Dad should have given me his name. It suits my wanderlust so well.
It is a primal need. 

The actual physical need to get into salt water when Ke Kai, the ocean, calls out for my return.
The deepest part of my core being pulled, and there is no ignoring the call.
The Hawaiian blood that races in my veins demands to be satiated and subdued by the water's touch. It's like a riptide that searches me out to draw me back in. 
It's not a choice. It is an absolute need. Like breathing.
The moment that the salty air hits my lungs, I change.
My skin opens up and breathes out my burdens. 
My hair too unwinds it's tight curls and extends them in all their kinked up beauty
My feet touch the water, and Kai opens her arms enfolding me in her waves.
She heals me, calms me, soothes me, and cleanses my being

It starts in my back.
Like the strings of a delicate kite that is dancing on the wind, I am pulled.
Soaring ever upwards to the mountains.
Again, my soul has no choice but to move me.
The mountain is Poplcatepetl, and I, like Iztaccihuatl, missing him and dying in his absence 
My fingers need to feel the soil crumble through them, and my lungs to drink in the crisp, clean air
The mountain wind blows, and my soul, now light of it's worries, takes flight.
It takes me through canyons, down ravines, and winds me through on a dance through with trees
The mountains cradle me. Rocking me with gentle breezes and the lullaby of nature's symphony.
The earth recognizes and recharges my spirit
When she beckons, I will answer always. Urgently. Gratefully.

My roots extend from ocean, through desert and swamp, and high up into the mountain tops.
I become restless like a wild caught tiger now housed in a zoo.
I must roam
Seek out silence and allow myself to be stilled
Hula under the light of a new moon
Nourish my hair in the ocean's salty brine
Swim with dolphins in the mornings
Run with wolves through the night
Play with fire like Xiuhtecuhtli and feel its spark burn within me
Discover new places, connect with the people and immerse myself in strange customs

I am a wanderer, a gypsy soul, a flower traveling on the wind
I am a nomad traversing the cities, waters, and forests like the native that I am
Those that try to hold me down only succeed in watching my back as I walk away
Those who understand, accompany me on my journey and add enlightenment on my path
There is also that treasured one that travels at my side
We are a tornado and a volcano. 
Mesmerized, respectful and in full knowledge of each other's raw power, 
strength, weakness and beauty.

Look for me on the wind, I am there. 

Down the Rabbit Hole

trapped
clawing at the cage 
like an animal
wanting to break free

sleep
it is my one comfort
it is a nightmare
conveniently 

love
it is a strong binding
heart wrenching
pit of despair

habit
unweilding hold
monkey on my broken back
punching at my head

pain
my constant companion
the one I can turn to
my creative muse

Down
down
further
away

Sick, weak, tired of being that which defines me
Want to sleep
Never wake to this again
Eyes watching
Hearts feeling
So encompassed
No repreieve
Deep now
Mask firmly engraved
Longing
Unfeeling
Want quiet
Solitude
Always

do you ever just want to scream?
scream so loud that your lungs vibrate inside your chest?
scream so deep that it brings to tears to your eyes?
not scream at anyone or anything
just scream
scream out all of the frustrations that have wrapped themselves around your soul
scream out all love and hate of yourself in its perfect imperfection
scream out the pain and the pleasure and the utter disappointments
scream yourself out until your voice is no more
scream until you can't feel the hurt and sadness
scream

I tire of it
I tire of you
I need more
I need less
I loved you
I can't stand you
I need something
I need nothing
I want you gone
I want you close
I have my dream
I have my nightmare
I am here
I am gone
Truth is, I've been gone for a long time now
I was never here

In the use to be's

the smell of stale cigarettes and beer floating in the air with the mingling of desperation drenched sweat Kenneth Cole meet me out back for a line and some time....all to the rhythm of a hearfelt rendition of Jeff Healy's Angel Eyes. Me, cigarette in mouth, shooting pool, coasting on the melt with my black knee high boots and mini skirt...keeping a watchful eye on the DJ. 

I see it. So tangible. I can taste it. The unraveling. Everything ever so slowly.

I try to stop it. Holding the spot so tightly that my fingers ache. Please stop.

Those things. They beckon me. Quiet screaming calling out to me. Shhhh.

I can't face it. The light blinding. In denial. No, it can't be. All the lies. There.

Why? Again and repeatidly. Tell the truth. Keep your sorries. Not again. No.

I will run. There is no where. Try to hide. It comes seeking. Go away.

Now I hurt. Deep inside me. All this pain. It is too real. Let me go. No it won't.

Stuck in the labyrinth. There's no exit. Here I go. Again.