my words

Category: words



The decision made,

All things moved into perfect alignment.

World follows desire of the heart,

The truest passions:

I am coming to you,

My journey, my soul, my home.

Neither distance, or barren plain, or jagged mountain

Offers resistance.

Oh! How you sang to me –

Your trees, your river, and your days and nights

All chanting of the divine!

I catch echoes of that song

In all my hours and dreams

‘Tho surrounded by streets and bricks

Of this graveyard metropolis.

You possess me, a call I cannot ignore,

To come, and become.

So, in all ways and places,

This journey is made manifest

And what will be uncovered and birthed

Is of no more consequence

Than the obstacles and excuses

That once seemed so very real,

Yet melted away

Once desire set intention

into heavenly motion.


#tsu #poetry #boise #idaho #herosjourney #writing #mountain#shawnallen330


Those Eyes


Looking into those eyes

Broke my heart a little.

I could see the pain

That made you glorious,

And I knew

Even that was meant

For another…

#tsu #jointsu #shawnallen #poetry


th (26)

How can we not be dancing?
The big Earth is turning,
But our feet only move in straight lines.
If you’re walking on this Earth
You’re treading on sacred ground,
So how can we not be dancing?

How can we not be singing?
The sun just keeps rising,
But our whole lives lived in just one note.
If you aren’t speaking truth
You’re just making noise.
How can we not be singing?

How can we not be living?
The days keep slipping by
But the routine never seems to change.
We’ve learned so many things
And forgotten who we are.
How can we not be living?



Do the blind weep for colors they cannot know?
Do the deaf long to hear the symphonies denied them?
Do the mute go silently insane with all the things they cannot express
And the screams of passion and rage that go unheard?
Do the scarred long to feel again;
To reach beyond the tough flesh and touch another?
When the night is dark and quiet
And I see my own gray reflection
These are things I wonder…

The Cricket

The Cricket

Outside the door
A lonely cricket sings
Heralding the going-within season.
This stray Summer’s day
Belies the coming chill;
A last solar flare
Before snow marches down
The mountain
And the mystery of Winter’s shroud falls.
One final lucid dream
Of life, then,
It will be silence.
Yet, today, a cricket sings.


the cricket

Blood drips from clenched fists
polluting the dark earth.
The door before me is closed.
No key or knob of entry shows
on the blank face.
Only the blood from my broken hands
mars the surface.
Tears stream from my eyes
shame and rage
given form.
I taste salt on my lips:
a thing that can preserve,
or make barren.
I raise my fists again
and begin to slam them
on the wooden barrier.
Knowing it is futile,
blood spraying,
I beat the door,
feeling the blows
on my body.,,



Black beaks,

Oily black wings and sharp talons,

Wet black eyes crying,

The ravens tear

Their way through from the inside,

Escaping my swollen gut

And stealing tatters of my soul

To line their nests.

In their wake,

Common crows rush in to roost.


An Instant’s Choice


On that day when everything catches up to you

All at once:

All the petty and miraculous, the ecstatic and mundane,

The laundry and the orgasm and the cruelty and the passion

and the duty, the freedom, the lies, the miracles, the falseness and the all-too-real –

All the ‘all’ of it –

All at once.

You have to either scream or be struck silent

For the first time in your life:

Absolute silence…

And you hear.

And suddenly you know

(Because the divine in you speaks clearly in that utter stillness)

That everything until this moment

Has been play-acting,

Preparing you for this instant

When the choice becomes clear

And the world falls out from under you

And the sky opens so very wide

That you fear being devoured by it

And you are floating in a matrix

Of what is and may be and glorious, maddening chaos

And choices.

Every choice you will ever make and ever could make

Lives in this one fragile instant;

Quicker than a heartbeat

Or the flap of a hummingbird’s wing,

With ripples and waves that will long outlast you.

Choices that are truly only one choice…

If you scream, in that instant,

You will feel the walls and the labels and the prisons

Close in like a suffocating desert:

And the scream coming up from your soul

Will never end.

Yet, if silence takes you,

And you listen, listen, listen to that sound,

That voice of unreason,

The God-voice that is you,

Every moment from then on will belong to you

To experience, to love, to pray, to create!

And you will be free.

Know this: one day all of it will catch up to you,

All you are or ever have been

And you will have but an instant to choose

Whether to scream,

Or hear the silence…


Dance, Puppet, Dance

th (13)

Painted on tears and a wooden heart –
The marionette dances
When he is told to dance
And then is thrown into the crate
To await the next show.

A favorite of the children by day,
What is he when the delight fades
And the guiding hand
Turns to flesh and the bottle –
Dancing on its own strings?

Old and uncared for:
A long, thin crack in the face
Growing wider each day
Speaks to the end
Once the truth is revealed.

Dancing once again, playing the role,
As the crack spreads
And the paint fades in the bright lights.
When he is released,
Who next will wear the strings?


The Wall


Patent Decor white small bubbles no.2873

The Wall stands
As it has always stood
As it will always stand
Inches from my face
Blocking all vision
Blankly staring back
There is no moving through the Wall
No crack or flaw to exploit
There is no going around the Wall
No movement is possible
The Wall has no words
It will not negotiate or bargain
I stand
As I have always stood
As I will ever stand
Inches from the Wall
Arms at my sides
Legs locked
In timeless numbness
That turns to searing pain
When the Wall allows me to leave
And I show it nothing
As I walk away
I tell myself that it can not win
That I will be unbroken
This day may belong to the Wall
But someday
Now the Wall
So many years in the past
Sometimes rises before my eyes
I cannot move past it
I cannot forgive
And the Wall stands
As it has always stood
As it will always stand
Inches from my face
Blocking passage
Voicelessly laughing