Honey Heart Cake Recipe

love greater than fearHoney Heart Cake Recipe: Here’s a recipe for healing heartache, handed down from my great great grandmother, who was a Redwood Tree. It’s a dense and rich dish and can be enjoyed raw or baked. For me it comes out different each time, but here are the basic ingredients:

1)Three or more cups of friends
2)Several heaping quarts of Vitamin N (nature). hiking 50+ miles helps, talking with trees, birds, and mud, creek therapy
3)Tears of pain and rage, the saltier the better. liberally sprinkled (don’t use all of them, though, save some for other pain)
5)A handful of Chocolate Love Chips, to add sweetness
6)Several tablespoons of Pema Chodron
7)A dash or two of humor, gratitude, and forgiveness, including self-forgiveness, if you have any on hand (if not, borrow some from a neighbor).

Instructions:
1)Mix ingredients together in a large heart-shape bowl, while breathing deeply. It doesn’t matter what order.
2)It’s very helpful to listen to music while cooking, especially sad and angry songs, but whatever fits the mood.
3)Add Pema intermittently during preparation and while the dish is baking
4)Bake as long as necessary and whatever temperature you want to reach desired consistency. If your oven is already too hot, bake at lower temperature. If your oven is broken, it’s ok to prepare raw. Lumps may remain.
5)Enjoy thoroughly and digest.
6)Finally, fanatically dance the shit out of all those fucking calories

Published on Elephant Journal.

The Beautifiul Man

An anxious crowd gathered at the feet of a beautiful man

whose aura breathed outwardly

genius mixed with hints of dark, troubled rivers

flowing into his speech:

 

“I love you,” he lied,

“because you love me as well.”

 

True it was. They did love him.

 

Because behind his curious smile lurked mystery enough

to impregnate the minds of sad men

their mad wives and their happy children

who interrupted their busy schedule

to lurk,

to gawk,

to wonder,

at the beautiful man who draped himself

with the cool black of silk and lover’s dreams,

whose gaze was as empty as the minds of his admirers

who danced as crooked as his queer gaze and grin

who talked of crazy deep things

like war and peace and good and evil

while collecting love and hatred that grew in the crowd

upon the black soil of his words.

 

“It’s not me that you want,” he thought.

It’s my madness that you seek.”

 

His words echoed down the thin alleys

as dusk arrived,

When they finally turned their heads

walked on and on and hand in hand

some sighed a burden released,

others breathed again for the first time,

and some pretended to laugh

Hyperbolic Hydrophobic Haiku Series – Unrequited Love

Hyperbolic Hydrophobic Haiku #1:

Unrequited love,
like downpour on hard pavement,
no soft ground to soak

#2:
Unrequited love,
like the California drought,
Waiting for the rain

#3:
La Luna llena
Seems full and bright tonight, but…
Just a reflection

#4:
Unrequited love,
like poison oak and bee stings
itches but can’t scratch

#5:
She brings sweet like bees,
honey on the tip of tongue,
But I can’t taste more

#6:
Flash flood forming fast
edgy hot eddies swirl…then
slip down the storm drain

#7:
Unexpected route
takes debris and winter rain
back to one big sea

#8:
Unrequited love
floats on in, then dissipates,
a fierce, lovely cloud

Valentine Baby

(Prologue of Novel Sad Man Grinning)

February 14, 1968 — Morning

Just before dawn on Valentine’s Day, a fair skinned, red-haired young woman awoke to sharp pains in her abdomen.  She clutched her overfull round belly, then felt something warm and damp between her legs.

It was time.

She was alone.  There was no one to call.  There was no bag to grab because no bag had been packed. She was going nowhere.  From the old bed, she glanced around the small hotel room in the dim but growing light sneaking around the curtains.  She rolled the worn sheets down to just below her knees and clutched the sides of the bed as her second contraction gripped her.

Despite her meager surroundings and swollen body, she felt lighter for the first time in months, knowing that she was to finally rid herself of this menace, this burden. Continue reading

I Left Some Tidbits

I have been leaving little pieces of you, of us, of my heart, all over the globe. A bit here and a chunk there…I left some tidbits on top of Volcano Popo and Itza outside Mexico City, I drowned some in a powerful primordial waterfall in Chiapas, I whispered some secret words in the silent dark corridors of the grand pyramid in Cholula, I let some lizards and toucans eat some morsels of my heart in the ancient jungle ruins of Palenque, I shared some with a Mexican women, and a few more to a guatemalteca girl, some more to a Brazilian girl, and several other girls took some without even knowing it.  From atop the peak of Volcano Tajumulco in Guatemala I hurled some shards of pain like Zeus down to the Pacific Ocean across a pink sea of clouds, I submerged yet others in the cold lake waters of Lago Atitlan amidst the basalt rock and ancient fish, and I buried some pebbles of our past in the rivers of flowing lava atop Volcano Pacaya.