I lied.

I cheated.

I borrowed.

I stole.

I was perverse

in thought and action.

I fucked.

I ran naked through

the woods

screaming

Jehovah’s name.

I lost myself in

so many thoughts,

people, and delusions

of grandeur.

And now I’m here.

I have no dreams left.

I have cracked open

to my brokenness,

living in my core.

That place that is unredeemable

except

in the living it as such.

In being what I am

freshness cleanses

the wound

so that its revealed to be

my destiny,

giving birth

to this broken light.

I stumble down

these halls

banging against

my self-inflicted walls

pretending I’m great

or straight or narrow

when I’m not.

I’m nothing of the sort.

I’m wicked game.

A fuselage

ready to explode

rocketing into orbit

around the sun.

and it takes just one moment to

bring me there,

That place between

you and I

that hurts,

that groans,

that’s murky

and disgusting.

none of it is far from here,

if you but scratch the surface

of this moment.

That is my gift.

11-7-11

Eric Grace ©

First, there was the Sound

that odd and then magnificent sound

the creaking door

edging its way

to a new position.

Then, there was the Light

blinding at first

from its newness

to the eyes of your heart

and then it became

so comforting

as it soothed

the eons

of despair

that had been its

ineffective replacement

or better said

its poor substitute.

This Light then found its way

down into the depths

of the dungeon

that you kept yourself in

where you had huddled in

and upon the beliefs,

the fears,

and the challenges

that broke your spirit

and hurt your soul

but this was your food.

Now as that thick door

finds its way to a new stance in your life

you come to know

that Grace

welcomes you

to your joy,

to your divine pleasure,

and to your calling to live

this moment

as your center.

And to give it freely

to those you love

and those that you have yet to love.

Celebration bells are ringing

as you come home to yourself

and to the Other

that is all around you.

You are free.

Eric Grace

9-20-2011 ©

Standing as a tree

where emptiness has me

I fear,

like walking on eggshells

that the wrong step

or thought

shall make it all disappear

like a faint mirage

or take me

into the unknown territories

of Self

where anything up to that moment

that would be recognizably me

vanishes forever.

Tis a fantasy

most likely

but one that holds me

still in these moments

with the sun,

as grace holds the candle

of truth

to my eyes and heart.

The outside becomes hollow

with a radiant stillness as its ground.

An emptiness,

I want to dive into…

becoming wholeheartedly One with

finding a sense of confidence

in discovering,

something…

reliably me.

Something I can stand on, in, and as

that would serve as a backbone

to my rollercoaster life

that has not yet come to an end.

Its quiet here.

I rest with my restlessness

and wonder if and how

the emptiness will be filled

or better said

covered by a contraction of thoughts,

waves of feeling,

and constellations of people, relationships, and places

that tug me into the undertow

of past irreconcilable differences.

It cannot last for long,

I won’t let it.

But for now, it has me

undivided.

attentive.

at ease.

as my belly rumbles

for its morning meal.

Eric Grace

8-21-11©

sitting

alone at night

with sex having lost

its fright

and its rush

over me to wage war

in my loins

or push my buttons of passion

into self-pleasuring

or robust wanderings.

The emptiness revealed

consumes a quiet light

that delegates

a new dawn

to my doorstep,

as I am becoming familiar

with a man

my father did not know

and never will,

except in the eyes

of my son

if he ever dares to take

that flight out of the cold country

where I used to sleep.

I do not know

this road

that weeps its way

to new vistas

of plenty,

But it has a liberating leash

around my neck

and I’m happy

to be its pet

until freed

into the wild

of my true Heartland

of Sacred Desire.

Eric Grace

7-28-11©

Violation

no computation

of the ways…

that go before

those sacred vows

that have been broken

between you and me

so discreetly

in the silent spaces

of our words and time

where all else was lost,

and you were

meant to be mine!

I wished you could be

and that you made it right

again,

after the soft breezes

of caresses and breasts

that found their honey

suckle sweets…

flowing milk rivers of plenty

I came across

this flesh

the other day,

and it had your

name written

all over it.

wrestled from the hands

of times secret

keeper

in the back of my mind,

deep in the bowels of this earthen landscape

grasping for the sake

of a new experience

to be had

in the soul of a life

born free,

free of crime and grime

without days filled

with dread, shit, and shame

around what could just have been

a tender touch

from a loved one.

Eric Grace

7-28-11 ©

This fragile,

delicate life

is nowhere in sight

to the arm wrestlers’

twist of fate,

coupled with

the delinquents

noose of praise.

I raise my hand

in front of the class

waiting to be called on

for goodness sake…

to have an answer

when so many

elude me

is a relief,

if not a blessed thing.

Cramped in my womb

tossed about

by shame

I wish for shallow waters

but I find

that I can’t swim

so easily there.

Fragrant meadows

dodge me

as I wander about

in hopes

for security

to take hold of my hand

and lead me to a home

that I will never have to leave.

Eric Grace

8-3-11©

I am utterly alone.

what once used

to scare me

like a proposed

straight jacket

became something

I craved for

like a great friend

or perfect lover.

Now it’s simply the state of affairs

in my country

of Being.

Yes, people come and go

in this world of A,

just like tourists,

true locals, and indigenous of any place,

but I feel

this profound inclination

that no one can

fill the place

where Being sits

at my table now.

no one ever could,

although I tried to seat them there

the seats just kept busting

and the table grew.

Now I wonder

who really likes

the food that is served

anyways!

I’m not in control of it anymore,

I used to think

I was the chef.

You can’t tell me

that there is more

to life than this,

something like those

cracker stale promises

of true partnership

or even God

giving It’s most

delicious dish,

No… I know now

in the aftermath

of countless deaths

that Aloneness is

the only true friend to keep.

that I can keep.

And so I go into the night

heeding the call

of the Emptiness

that lives in the unique forms that

occupy my mind’s eye

and my hearts open or closed hand.

I’m saying Grace

with the Big A.

Eric Grace

7-31-11©

This Burning Moth

I want to run to you

and burn up

in the Supernova

that you are.

I want to cast my

laborious space suit

aside

and step into the

delirium

of your bright shine

dancing the stars

away

into infinity.

I laugh at my insanity,

A death wish high

that surely will fall

but this teenage feeling

cannot go unnoticed

for it has me by the

head, heart, guts, and balls.

You take me to my depths

and you raise me to the Sky.

You move me to

Cuming and crying

in sacred

silent stills…

moments of candor

and flow

that ease the crust

of days gone by,

accepting

what I do not easily feel

with others,

as just the state of affairs

on Planet Earth

or perhaps

my delinquent account of the Heart,

projecting its lonesome love

dove

out to the seekers

that surround me.

For you my dear

are at One with me.

At home

in the Great Abyss

of

this Life.

We dance in it

together

And I forget of

this passion

I feel so fervorently.

thank you

for the gift

you awaken in me

that I can feel

this Alive!

You are so fucking Gorgeous!

I want you.

I want to Burn in you…

like a moth

in a flame.

Burn me up.

Burn me Up!

Fast.

Now.

Impulse drives

me to your doorstep

without a key

the door of flames

burst into my

heart

and takes me

to the place

of no names,

no words,

no nothing.

I drink Here

for the day has light

and the night

its own dark blanket

and I hide in both

until  I’m reminded

by you

of the glory

of Truly Living.

Eric Grace

7-29-11 ©

for Liz

knocks on my doorstep

tapping my windo

inviting me in

to its shallow

slumber

of night time

daydreams

a calming voice

that beckens

the notion

of the goodness

of Gentle

soothing in her

fortitude

she grabs hold

of my attention

with grace

and an accompanying gaze

of serenity

And so she goes on

all night

without most noticing

her gift to us all

she cleans us

bathing our bottoms,

nourishing our crops,

cups, and cows

wetting our appetites

for tomorrow’s

Savory Meal.

by Eric Grace

2011 copyright

Crushed in currents

shaking my bows

sailing the salty seas

that make me weep

and cry

for the sailors I meet

and the sailor in me.

I stand up

in what I am

grateful to live

in this native Heartland.

I pray to God

others live and know

this gift as theirs

I hope to show.

The journeys on

to no longer fear

to tread

the days and

nights

as Life’s bridegroom

I wed

in the Here.

I take her hand

and see her face

in all the women

I taste

in all the bosoms

I greet.

I carry the child

that once was

abandoned ashore

that crazy

Island

separation

and delusions

galore.

I frequent now

the hobbies of

threads

that weave together

The Great Being

a most delicious

Life’s Bread.

I say my prayers

and Grace is given

through my heart

like Sunday

brushes

the face of grass

and the blossoms

of these Spring trees.

Eric Grace

5-10-11