Nuptual Lament

Deja Vu

I’m sorry what’s your name?

Whos wedding is this again?

Meet me in the alley.

Wanna make out?

The refuse of our insatiable need

We make so much ado about our stuff 

I need that. 

she said 

I want that. 

he said 

I’ll have that.  they said…

Bags and bins in piles of piles and dumpsters and pods and piles and piles and more piles of shit

but in the end it’s all leftovers




it’s all just stuff

Didn’t realize how much stuff I was collecting when it was all in one place. 

Now, scattered about in different piles in different places I ask 

how much do I really need beyond the clothes on my back and the friends in my life?

As if I could visit the stuff from the formless realm as easily as I could connect with my friends and family. 

More stuff does not mean more life



He tried not to disturb her sleep from mountains and rivers away

so he didn’t call

but she heard him anyway.

in a dream…

He wanted a kiss but didn’t press

so she called him

time makes no difference

hearts know no distance

and magic is only a breath away


Who am I?


In the wash of surrounding beauty I am but a frivolous stroke of the brush in the absent minded flick of the hand that holds it

or am I?

For in the wake of who you were is the truth of who I am

Left holding a heavy weight, while I am strong I can’t lift it alone

I couldn’t be who I am without you and all who came long before who I am and who they were

Who am I and who I am are different in that all that I am is not always the answer to the question who am I?

So who am I?

That’s not a question You or I could answer with conviction…

So why am I asking it?










And then she named me Rachel Sun…

I will never stop shining. 

It’s always bright somewhere even when the shadow is cast. 

I promised to stay golden 



I know you didn’t mean to take me


But I’m still coming back from that last hit 


Did you fashion a bus just so you could drive over me in it?  

Or was I simply at the wrong intersection just in time for it? 


I felt so inclined to protect you 

I thought we were working for the we 

I didn’t get the memo 


It’s like a closet… the mind

Only we decide what goes in there, even if we didn’t notice someone drop a load on that empty shelf 

Entire shopping sprees happen just to fill them up 

Rarely are they ever empty 

but attempts at clearing them out call for epic expeditions

They are too small to stay inside for long 

Rather claustrophobic 

Each time We open the door, we find something we missed the last time 

or piles tumble out

Something old something borrowed and plenty that we never needed in there in the first place 

If we don’t consciously change what’s in there we limit our perspective 

Even if we don’t wear what’s inside, we need to circulate some air

Shit gets musty in there… 


Everything I ever asked for has been granted

Whether I was the one to receive what

I’ve requested is another story 

We don’t always get what we asked for but somebody does 

Open the channels 

Trust the process