The Big A.

The Big A

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


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



This Burning Moth


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




and step into the




of your bright shine


dancing the stars




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,




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




out to the seekers


that surround me.




For you my dear


are at One with me.


At home


in the Great Abyss




this Life.




We dance in it




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!










Impulse drives


me to your doorstep


without a key


the door of flames


burst into my




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



Blessed by Rain

Righteous Rain

knocks on my doorstep

tapping my windo

inviting me in

to its shallow


of night time


a calming voice

that beckens

the notion

of the goodness

of Gentle

soothing in her


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

Cruelty Free Being liberates the Day of Night

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


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



and delusions


I frequent now

the hobbies of


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


the face of grass

and the blossoms

of these Spring trees.

Eric Grace


Having come and gone to now

The whirlwinds have settled

the names have changed

the years have come

and become,

I am no longer to blame.

Death and grief,

rise and falls,

family losses

and falling aparts.

Divorces and marriages,

bankruptcies and courts,

Cults and children born

out of and into my heart

I am no longer remote.

Grace carries me

through thick and thin

while I am finding

my spirit and soul

coming together

as this fleshy within.

Out of the ashes

of a life torn apart

Springs form

a unique orchid blend blossom

giving fragrance

offered to the my loving Sun.

And everyone is welcome

who wishes for a sweet smell

and a beautiful vision

to ponder

that brings them back to square one.

Now, I am Singing a little song

like the mellow creek

that whispered its way along

beside the willow tree

down that street

that I once knew as home.

By Eric Grace on 4-16-2011 ©

A Humble Banquet


and living

these broken lives,


and saviors

fade into the


while the apparent

need to find perfection

subsides in the wake

of discovering

how we need

one another,

that in discovering

each other

we find the wholeness

of our humanity

and the rebirth

of our kindness

to the world

in all its wretched  humility


in this still place

I breathe


within me

I hear

the creek

flowing outside

and the harmony

of nature

and That which it abides


You and I

are a new story

in an old fabric

or tapestry

that grows denser

and more liquid

with time and age

but still remains

the same cloth

that our parents

and theirs’ used

to wipe their face upon

when the feast

of their lives

was finished.


Come to me

so that we can

make bread

for this day

and celebrate

the feast

that is ours

for the tasting.


From where she stands

I must look like

a man

that has yet to bellow

his deep call

of yearning for the Sacred.

from where she stands

I must seem

like a man

that has not fully

anted up.

When she looks down on me

from the great sky

where she breaths

or when she pears out

through my chest

into this naked world

from my frigid flesh

I believe

she knows that

I haven’t come

into my full


palace yet.

she knows

that I am humbled

before eternity

with the crest

of deliverance

of the sacred cow


to give its final moo.

I know she thinks well of me.

If she thinks at all.

But I wonder,

Is she having her way with me yet?

Is she taking me

into the full swing

of her hips?

Is she guarding me

from the power that she carrys

until I give my full



into her gates?

I wonder.


Copyright by eric grace

March 2nd 2011