Tag Archives: prayers

Muse Memory Writing Prayer


Memories are dim –
white clouds on the outside.
I’m waiting for dark,
for gray or black or that sheet of sky where stars wink through holes
in cut fabric.

The Sullen One, the Dreamer, the Spectacle, the Net-Caster –
Oh, Weaver
I am alone in myself without drift or muse
Words on the horizon.

Is there a miracle invocation to be made?
Inspiration could be
a ghost from my past, or a spirit to prompt dreams
of lampposts in winter,
of burning oils and incense and
a poem without rhythm or reason
or rhyme
that flows like the ocean and whispers like the salt.
Simple rhythm.
A misguided drum.

And so, into the abyss, slowly,
I go descending

With my dreams scattered among nightmares,
the cutting edge of joy on my wrist;
hungry for life and death and the deepness of feeling.

So we are the painters, the artists, the diplomatic chief designers for our own lives, deaths and in betweens.

Snow falls and everything is soft and clean again.




I want to live on the seventeenth floor
of the building where only people who are willing to wear costumes
to the weekly costume party are also living.
I want to write slam poetry

so that my friends who don’t write poetry
will come to the performance and laugh
and cry
and have something extravagant to eat
because my friends are never extravagant enough.

I want skin that resists bug bites
that never itches and only gets the shivers
when a string quartet is playing
or Tegan and Sara are playing
or the prayer is just right
or the sunrise is right in my face

or maybe
I want skin that gets the shivers all the time
but not from cold
because I do not want to be weak
or sickly or dependent.

I just want to wear a parka
and let the wind whip.

Prayer for You by Rob Brezsny


(This poem/prayer is by Rob Brezsny, not me.)


Prayer for You


Believe it or else, beauty and truth fans, it’s time for a Prayer for You.

A prayer to end all prayers. A prayer for everything you never asked for before

because you weren’t sure you deserved it. A special, no-nonsense, hype-free prayer

exclusively for you

in the most unselfish tone of voice

I’ve ever mustered.



I am starting to pray right now to the God of Gods, The God beyond all Gods,

the Girlfriend of God, the Teacher of God, the Goddess who invented God

and what I pray is:


Oh Goddess Who Never Kills But ONly Changes,

I pray that my exuberant suave, and accidental words might move You

to unleash ferocious blessings on all the beauty and truth fans who’ve tuned in.


I pray that you’ll grant them what they don’t

even know they want. Not just the boons they think

they need but EVERYTHING they’ve been afraid

to even imagine or wish for.


Teach them to push their own buttons and unbreak

their own hearts

and right their own wrongs

and sing their own songs

and be their own wives

and save their own lives


Oh Goddess, You Wealthy Anarchist Burning Heaven to the Ground,

the divine chameleons out there in sacred space don’t even know they’re crazy.

Please use Your blinding magic to help them see they’re all wildly

creative geniuses too Big for their own bodies. Guide them

to realize that they’re all completely

different from what they think

they are and more exciting than

they can possibly imagine.


Show them hot to purge themselves

of the wishy washy wishes that keep them

distracted from their divine desires.


And make it immoral illegal irrelevant unpatriotic and totally tasteless

for them to be in love with anyone or anything that’s no good for them.


Oh Goddess, You Sly Universal Virus with No Opinion

help them win the battle against time and learn to talk

the language of the most scientific angels and master

the zen of temper tantrums and get a fabulous

mommy and daddy in their next incarnation.


I beg that you help all the personal growth addicts that are reading this prayer to be disciplined

enough to go crazy in the name of Creation not Destruction. I pray

that you teach them the difference between self-destructive self-control and liberating self-control.


Awake in them the power to do the half-right thing when it’s impossible

to do the totally right thing. Arouse the Wild Woman in them, even if they’re men.

Give them bigger, better, more original sins

and wilder, wetter, more interesting problems.


And Goddess, You Pregnant Criminal Who Scorns All Mediocre Longings,

Inspire all the original sinners out their to love their enemies

in case their friends turn out to be jerks.


Provoke them to throw away things that make them believe

they are better than everyone else.

Show them how much fun it is to brag about what they can’t do or don’t have.

Most of all, brain wash them with your freedom

so that they never love their own pain more than anyone else’s pain.


Oh Goddess, You Psychedelic Mushroom Cloud at the Center of All Our Brains,

these budding demeters and innanas and buddhas and christs deserve everything they need

and much more. Please arrange for a racehorse to be named after them

or a boulevard or river…

or 1,000 year old storm on another planet.


Bless them with lucid dreams while they’re awake

and solar operated sex toys and a vacuum cleaner for their magic carpet and a knack

for avoiding other people’s hells and a thousand masks that fit their faces

and their own 900 number so everyone has to pay to talk to them.


Oh Goddess You Dumb Fast Infinitely Wide River of Electricity,

You Smart Slow Smoldering Lump of Angel Fat Left Over from the Big Bang,

You Cool Furnace that Incinerate the Props of Our Nightmares Much Too Slowly,

I pray that you provide all the global village idiots that are reading this prayer

with a license to bend all laws, rules and traditions

that keep them apart from the things they love

and teach them that they can have anything they want

if they’ll only ask for it in an unselfish voice.


Oh Goddess Who Gives Us So Much Love and Pain Together that Our Morality

is Always on the Verge of Collapsing,

I beg you to cast a spell to nullify all bad spells that have ever been cast

on all the beautiful love geniuses out there.

Remove, banish, laugh into oblivion any jinx that has clung to them

even if they’ve grown accustomed or addicted to its ugly companionship.


And if there is anything I have forgotten

which will help their cause

please flash it into my imagination in the coming days and decades.

Motivate me to perform any tricks or carry out any project

that will encourage an abundant flow of sweaty creativity to flow through them

inspiring them to become more wildly disciplined,

erotically feminist, aggressively sensitive, ironically sincere, lyrically logical, insanely poised.


And now, dear God of Gods, God Beyond All Gods,

Sister, Lover, Mother of God,

I bring this prayer to a close trusting that in these mysterious moments

you have impregnated the dream glands of all the beauty and truth fans

with the most compassionate lust and smartest love you can imagine








you may now kiss yourself on your own lips.