Little Wandering Fool
Moving through deserts and crossing waters
Roots reaching for fertile soil
But the tides and winds are changing,
Foundations keep shaking,
The road keeps bending,
Rivers keep rolling,
Paths must be made,
And our roles must be played
As we tell our stories day by day.
Little Wandering Fool,
Moving through deserts and crossing waters,
Some day this ship will drop anchor,
And these hands will plant seeds
Of Willow and Peach Trees.
Some day a pair of eyes will say stay
Palms Open. Fingers Loose.
Held and Free
Till then she turns the soil
With the soles of these traveling shoes.
This Little Wandering Fool
I sing the Song of Sybil from dry lips and heart,
Weak with my guilt and paralyzed from fear,
My hate and love I cannot sift apart,
And sadness shrouds me, warm, cloudy, and sheer.
I can feel you mirrored in my reflection,
Every stab of pain winces in your face,
Bound on this wheel of tortured projection,
And with every turn our love we efface.
We hold to our hurt, afraid of release,
Of loss; the meaning of a mirror shattered,
A wheel broken, and our love laid to peace.
We lie among the rubble, broken and battered,
Weary with the effort of letting go.
I see you now. Separated we glow.
So you ask for words, Something to provoke and inspire
For images that smoke and burn.
You search for a Muse to light you one fire,
So that you again may rise, transfigured and fresh from the ashes.
You want something beyond the patterns and rhythms we have been lulled asleep to.
You, like I, are in a searching and questioning,
Feeling through the Fog,
Somewhere there is a melody playing
The sweetest sound ears have heard
And we keep moving towards this vibration
Finger tips for eyes
Not another soul for miles
But we follow that sound
Humming as we stagger.
Fairy God Mother. It has been two days since I heard of your passing. I write you these words as my way of saying Goodbye to you. I wish I could be there. It feels wrong to be in Berlin as you are being buried in California. I thought I had more time with you. I remember saying Goodbye with Brownie Breath and Red Wine Lips. It was so beautiful these last moments with you. Our hearts so full the room was bouncing with Love. This is what you have always meant to me. Love. You have given me Love like Family since the moment we met. I was in High school and performing "Shakespeare for my Father". And you loved me. Instantly I loved you and we have loved each other ever since. In many ways it is the Love that we have shared that has taught me the meaning of the word, showed me what is possible in the heart and these lessons have permeated every aspect of my life and now in everyone I love there is a piece of you.
You have left me too soon. There is so much I still wanted to share with you. There are Fairy God Children I wanted to place in your arms and there are creations and performances I wanted you to experience. There are countless hours and timeless moments that my heart still longs for. I suppose Loss is an inevitable part of Love.
Maybe you are now everywhere. Maybe I have not lost a thing. Maybe I have gained the Beauty of your reunion with everything, no longer separated by physical form. I can feel you so close. In the breeze and the sunlight. I hear your laugh and I see your smile and knowing look. It feels silly to be sad when you are all around me, but my body cannot help but respond with tears as if all my Love for you is culminating into this moment and it all cannot fit in this tiny body, so out it pours.
Through your being you have taught me many Lessons. In your Death I feel one as well. I never wish to take Love for granted; never take this short Life for granted. I feel now the sacred and blessed nature of this, our brief lives. I feel the need to live the Love in my Life, to live into it without fear or pride, to live it simply and humbly; to kiss deeper, to allow my walls to drop and live a Life that is full and fearless, I feel blessed that you are able to be this reminder and that now you are everywhere inside and out of me.
Many of my friends have asked how old you were when you passed and I can find no answer. You are ageless and timeless to me. You are of the Faye and live eternally in the flight of their wings. This is not your last lesson for me. This is not the last letter I will write you. This is not Goodbye. This is the Transfiguration of our Love into the radiant light from the Mountain top. Isn't the view lovely.
Sara Fay George
The day is done and dusk has dawned. I lay ,
Writing in rhyme, wrapped up in pen and sheets,
I scribble on and in the darkness play.
No voice is here to sing my soul to sleep,
Except for Pen and Paper and the sounds
Of whispering as they meet. Shapes fall to page,
Forming words, chasing thoughts like bounding hounds.
Flowing ink creates a path from this cage,
Brainwork and fears bound in my flesh and bone,
Restless with searching for someone to hold,
Scrawling till my eyes turn heavy as stone.
My penmanship staggering uncontrolled.
Hands go limp as they surrender to sleep.
Lonely Lullaby into slumber creeps.
I left my heart in a blue bed in park city.
I was too chicken to say it, but thought
Maybe I could have stayed and been happy
Rolling through your many colored hills,
Rubbing oil into your chapped hands.
Right hand on my belly, left on the wheel.
I sit on the floor of your airport waiting for the next adventure
Looking behind me, sad to see you disappear.
Your skin and colors stay inside of me
Leaving a trial of light behind me as I fly.
I can still feel your fingers between my hot griddle thighs
The warmth and fuzzy feeling has not left since I left you.
My hair and neck wave for your caress and scream in revolt of our too soon parting
I miss your heavy breathing and voiceless climax.
These hands now empty without flesh to cup
Again and Again words fail to say what lays in the memory of my muscles.
Effortless, you swim through me hauntingly
My body sings with you and calls for your touch like a child.
Sleepless nights lying next to your warm body, listening and suffering
To the sound of twisted muscles and the sensation of locking.
Your eyes closed and my wet warm body perched on top of yours
My self opening to you, hopelessly and recklessly
And I the helpless experiencing bystander
Watching with eyes wide open as the impulse to love you washed over me like waves
I pushed against the dam of my heart, willing it to hold.
Again and Again waking in the night
With this silent pain pumping from my chest.
These words come through my hand and heart to ink and page,
As brook over stone to pay the ocean homage,
Letters flow into form, pentameter, and message,
Verses telling the tale of playing upon your stage.
Of time that has been spent, the hours, nights and days,
Where you and I and many other friends have played,
With the sun and stars, in the vineyard, trees, and hay.
On this small stage the Faye have danced and Kings have passed.,
Lovers have been found and enjoyed, lost and star-crossed,
Ships have come safe to harbor, although tempest tossed.
This soil sewn with seeds of possibilities,
Nourished with the resonance of his poetry.
Now we sprout, plunge in the Earth and stretch toward the Sky.
We have been given wings and now are free to fly.
Sara the Sex Surrogate
Please come in
Sit Your Ass Down
I haven’t vacummed, I have no dinner cooked and my kitchen is as cold as your hands.
But the incense is burning and there might be a candle around here somewhere.
They call me Sara the Sex Surrogate. You saw me at a party with too much hairspray in my hair and now you think I am some wild thing, something you should chase.
So please come in.
I got oils and crystals
Lube and Dildos
Chokes and Chains
Flesh in Orifices
Elbows in Armpits
Toe and Nails
I scratch but bitch you bruise and tomorrow I will be feeling my body in a whole new way.
But I will only let you in so deep
Only let you take me so high.
The gate is open but the door is closed.
We talk about your mother and your obsession with rockets
I tell you about my father and legal husband.
At one point I accidentally step on your balls
But you take it with grace and leave with a smile
And I stay in the sweat stained sheets
I hope you have fun with your power point project
It is best to say “I’ll just love you for the night”
But my womb is still bruised and my body can still feel you.
Like a fish with a hook in it’s belly.
But that is tomorrow.
For tonight you are the boy with his hand up my skirt
My bra downt o my hips
In this damp staircase
All breath and touch
I expand out to the moon.
Let the hooks sink tomorrow.
How it spins us around bringing us again and again to the same familiar places of joy, sorrow, elation, despair, loving, hating, hurting, holding, inspiration, desperation, isolation, elevation, unity, confusion, connection, separation, beginnings, beginnings, beginnings, end.
Who knew that life on earth is really just a carousel? For centuries we have struggled in our search for the meaning
Oh these little sighs that escape our lips as we caress.
The slightest vibration and release of air.
Sounds discovered in Silence
Slipping free into the Night.
The smell of breath and skin
The sun has risen and set
Kissing the rooftops again
But here no time has passed
Sitting, curling, slipping to and from sleep.
On this Eternal French Morning.
How painful it is to Love another. Perhaps in order to really Love our heart must have the capacity to contain not only our own sadness but the sadness of those we Love. Sometimes I feel such a great sadness inside of me that I know it is not just mine. It is shared. It is the collective sadness that all Humans share and it is beautiful. It unites us. In this way our sadness is such a gift. Something we can share together. This we know to be real - just as we know our greatest joys are real and bring us together, lets barriers drop. What a wonderful Love I would have liked to have given you.