i started off learning from the wind.
and, like the wind, i slip-streamed by
and gazed into windows from afar.

all i've ever done is flowed and felt,
and to me that's enough to be magic.

everything i've learned is from listening
quietly
and finding where silence isn't.

that voice amongst the white noise,
that howl in the still darkness of night,
is my teacher.

beautifully my heart aches,
when the emptiness
is infinitely more haunting
than the ghosts that drift in it
as memories lost to time.

you feel an acorn drop on your head

and it doesn't hurt,
but now 
you are always looking for squirrels

where there are none



yet, if you look, intently, at the trees,

at the winding and intertwining of their branches,

you will see the crows, 
subtle, nigh invisible


in every tree in every forest

hidden amidst the leaves


you might lock eyes with them

and they will look away, or they may fly, 

but never explain a thing



but the wind will blow

and it will remember

and it will follow you on your journey

He falls awkwardly 

and soon lands 
in a quiet resting place


Every ocean shines 

with music and eddies
I walk close but not close;

deaf and dumb.

To write,
I'm in the starlight


Nothing new has come out yet

The change is small
This charge is not for vandalism

My face was very shocked
I drank the starlight 

and closed the hole in my heart


The light shines
Stars and security
The flowers are blooming
Remove the ice crystals

Big or small,
waves are made with wild hands


He was a water spirit 

and just wanted a home


There is no room in the cup

This beauty must be discovered carefully.
It's like falling into darkness.
When something is born, all reality is created,
except fruits and perishable goods.

A promise of a romantic relationship;
when the long moon shines in your eyes.
But, don't lose sight of it.

Pure victory.
I came home in a ***** car.
I wasted my time.

I raised my hand to him.
Cut flowers and damaged plants.
But I believe in the light of another day.

This dimension can be seen in simple things.
Because this is a new concept of tough love.
And talk, listen.

In sunblank white,
a-shimmer is the sky.
Multifaceted fragmented droplets
strewn asunder through the air,
and we are soaked with atmosphere today;
there are no shadows anywhere.


The sun mourns its fleeting dreams.
Nostalgically, kissing the intimacy of morning,
it drinks itself into oblivion.

But, there is starlight on daybreak’s breast
and my primal mind beseeches:
Stay inside and paint the cave with color.
Gray days need not complain
and the heart needn’t ache
of winter’s whispered promise.

It is a season of ghosts
of ruby dusk, and windswept mystery;
with death, things move,
yet life slows, to nigh halting breaths.

We are blissful, melting in memories.

Eyes sparkle
with the magnetism of the ageless
as we reminisce and wish
to pass along songs sung by our eras.

Through our creation,
legacy gleams eternal,
the world vibrates
with the synergy of consciousness,
and those yet long unborn
dwell with us in the universal heart.

On the cusp 

of the dawn 

of a new day,

there is tremendous hope


if this is what death feels like;
the burgeoning light 

of the rising sun 

rolling upon the horizon, 

cascading out over the land, 

my eyes awash with tears and warmth;


is it surrender?

is it trust?
or does one simply 

melt away?

i find myself moved by the beauty and ubiquity of love
eternally grateful for this life and all its feelings
to intimately coalesce with many layers and frequencies
of vibrations of consciousness
and to expand alongside them, relax and welcome grace

i believe that is what it means to be a healer
i am not manipulating energy
i am loving it and seeing it
simply opening myself to be there with it
and experience a transformation to openness

i will not spill or pour my heart out
i will leave it open;
live like a river flowing to the ocean
i will hum with this universe’s rhythms
dance in the elegance of its motions
i will commune with it

i have grown this year from seeing tremendous beauty
in an overarching force of pristine divinity
emanating through the Love vibration unto me,
and feeling blessed to be loved by Love
to finding that very feeling in my open heart,
expressed to this whole, vast and wonderful existence

I will be there with it
I will be there

I am an auric legacy of inexplicable secrets

of nearly saying what I mean,

but not quite having the words to speak it


I am a haze of feeling that fears the density

required to express the things
that truly make sense to me 



I am the internal rambling of a mind maddening itself

and the breadth of peace found in spiritual wealth

I am an analyzing inner voice without a choice

but to spew, spew, spew

just to observe the words as they keep flowing through


and I think that’s what I’m supposed to do 


I’m not attached to me or you;

it’s all just passing by

like gems of light as ripples on the blue



They never hear me clearly

they’re too busy pondering what they might say

and most often interrupting me
before I’ve had my stay

so I’m forced out again,

back into the echo chamber:

 “thought prison” 



Ironically, more liberated here than I could ever be

in someone else’s ear,
at least that’s what my ego’s telling me 

but so alone when I’m unheard,
no place is home amongst the herd


My thoughts are spurred in too many different directions

to understand the single minded group inspired predilection 

spreading through the collective like an infection

but it only scratches the surface



Deep beneath, I know the verses
,
hear the rhythm, feel the flow 

I know it grows
 like starlight
in the night, expanding


Such a natural thing
,
so I’ll just keep listening

Take thee, thy gaze, in wistful, mourning solitude, 

and fix it thereupon a rose in bloom 

and thou shalt see and be consumed

in thoughts of death and interlude 
betwixt
the days of haze wherethrough 

the sunlight, harsh, consumes a baking brain 

a-pulse with pain, and still estranged

in what we call “forever.” 



Yet still, become 

(thee, thy rose in waiting)

whose entreaty and retreat betrays 

the idle mind, the aching heart;

and be that bloom, that efflorescent art.



Drink in the sun and be a part 

of waking day and masterful array, 

of soul drenched verisimilitude.


Whereby the unprimed, emptied mind 

aligns with thy divine spark, 

therein lies the secret: 



It is You 

who shines, who blooms; 

who dies unto Life become again,

through strife and separation, 

Beauty and Unity, and Universe in celebration.



It is Thee, not lost, not blind, 

but free to be and free to find,

to coexist and create bliss, 

through ignorance, your every wish 

begets a kiss with the intimate infinite.



A declaration of innocence, 

of birth, and Truth, 

and Love returned to It.



You are Sight.

Light seeing Light being.

Light Being, 
shining through the Night. 


Divine thing, 
hold tight.

It will be alright.

The present moment is my happy place

and, when I step back and appreciate

all my woes and worries are erased



I’ll simulate the energy of peace

when anger and impatience ravage me

and the world seems chockfull of instability;

because, when I remember to breathe,

I don’t surrender my power to a feeling



Sometimes I find I’m faced with a choice

Life can leave me feeling as if I’m without a voice

All things appear so dull and strange

My heart, aching for a change



And I can choose to lose it;

let my rage consume and guide me

My power, when I abuse it,

unleashes pain I hide inside me



Seeking to subdue, control, or placate

is a futile effort

We must waste our energy 

to weaken what we wish to subordinate

Strength only doubles when we work together



Such is the same with one’s self

Fighting inner pain just drains 

and serves to lessen health

Nothing else remains

and one retires again to rest



I’ll step back, and take a breath,

and remember what it’s like to be at peace;

let my soft awareness spread

from in the deep of me,


and assess

with love, encouragement and patience

any problem that keeps me

from seeing beauty



Because love lives in the aching heart

-in the wandering mind

Love, is what we know, what we might find

It is why we yearn and ache

It is why we persist, in spite,

or for the sake of it



So, 
when I find that irate individual;

my mind and the world in turmoil;

when I can’t catch a break,

I can’t focus, can’t think,

I will remember love

is the nourishing thing

at the crux of being



It is the keystone 

to the doorway to new paths

of consciousness and coalescence

of presence and connection

of Love itself

I hold sacred my lack 
as a space to receive;

to grasp the infinite within me.
I will not cling to anything frivolously. 



I’ve spent my whole life waiting
Now it’s time to start creating
and as I bathe in the rays of the sun
I invite light in, to upgrade every cell
so I may swell with the might of the One

Wind-flow shakes and wakes the trees
applauding my awakening
these days have been intense
with every sense enlightening

My body aches with anticipation
of the soul’s profound reintegration
I soften, soften
and begin to open



I do not cry

but my dreams are overflowing

out my eyes, creating a junction

transpiring into a world awaking



I speak in rhythms reverberating

from my deepest soul’s vibration

pleading Spirit set me free

to be and be; be nought but Me

Once, in a dream that slipped away,

the mustered mind could reach

beyond the stars into the dark



But, in this emptiness;

my passion will not even drip

where it once overflowed



Am I condemned to be alone?

Condemned to never know;

to never speak?



Must I toil on

toward not enough

to live a life called worthy?



I am in no hurry

to secure my arrest

in the throes of unhappiness



I’ve watched the world in blur for several years

and all my tears have dried up long ago


The softest glow of consciousness

was once my light through this abyss

but now, 



I am nothing:



a forceless breath attempting

to guide the wind and fill the sails;


a silent shout unending,

no challenge o’er which to prevail



Without poetry

my spirit begins to dwindle



Hope swindles,

wishing suffocates,



and I care not

—dare not—

to dream

My love is the one

that saturates awestruck passion

making the heart swell

with transformative gasps of divinity



My love is the weight of water

suspended in the air

It is windswept, soft caressing;

Spirit’s soothing whisper in mine ear



My love entombs itself in deep mind

Loses itself to the pool of rhythmic vibration

interspersing, simulated, soulful synchronization



My love is life finding Life finding soul

The sweetness of consciousness becoming conscious

of itself in everything else, of liquid light brimming through,

to coalesce, and impress softness into



My love is poetry wherein

we beautiful beings becoming

had to invent the very word 



To encapsulate the indescribable

that exists in that feeling

of transcending survival 



To find the divine in the usual

nothing goes without first being
and I am clambering
in this cloying, oppressive heat
making moves to rise, or pull the sun down

and thus, again, in solar matrimony
with moon sleeping sideby my aching dreams
i am cosmic catastrophe
amidst the emptiness of sordid petrification

steam drifting, careless, in a nightless dimension
wherefore should light clarify, if only by
dissolving me
to revolutionary inconstancy

all things change
deranged, nonsensical, heavy aired
beguiling abominations of nought
heat pulsates, water breathes
suspended

we are baking lest we recoil
to shadows basked in memories
of once been dreams
that now wither, stagnate
grasping at an instance of dominion

there we sat,
four strong in the abandoned station
boxes and trash scattered haplessly about
the dim lit room, on couches
tense and anticipatory

she saw seesaws by the water
tilting to and fro
as wind blows cloud by her open mind
a mouth ajar and hanging lame,
spittle sticks

a miscreant metaphor abhorred in dark
a lonesome emptiness that cannot get a grip
when suddenly a crowd forms from
the avenues wherein adventure halts

sign the form
name and date
Brain: Frog

she rants and raves
or is it "he?"
butcher you, to stay
with me forever

No
I will not tarry there
in the stagnant air
won't weep with you
in this empty room

I'll dive into the deep
hide beneath the false surface
waves under stillwater

I swim up
a boat laps over me
exposed belly
no rutters cut
no blades to leave me empty

I survive
Father'lone, a search party
but in my dive into obscurity
I left my friends behind
We could've taken her

a hug for the sad part of my heart
only being able to cry when I feel safe
trusting that you can trust someone



the freedom that comes from knowing

that letting go is opening up
to unconditional acceptance
of self and of other
from self and from other

a ******* arrow of love
piercing through me

finding the haven of the soul
within the chest

when somehow space dissipates

and only love is left
and what is love?

it is not grasping

it is not a kiss
nor a ****
nor a lifetime with one person
who “completes you”

love says
you are enough
you belong in this space

you are worthy of embrace
you are safe

it does not say

you are mine
it says
you are free

you are divine
you are a part of me

because we are all a part
of humankind
and a greater mind

how lost I’ve been

in grappling and coping with hope

how i’ve been found, upside down
suspended by my foot by a rope



seeing the world in a new light
cracking open my mind like an egg

the sunlight splits the mist 

in the real world


just as I peer into the light
of my soul
and you’re there with me
and you’re all there with me

Ascension cannot happen 
without
stepping back 
to examine one’s shadow. 


Three steps forward and one step back

is still moving in the right direction. 



To own the present moment and embrace 

without expectation or disappointment;

to integrate and elevate and validate 

in cycles of breath and breadth,

without seeking sated self in other,

is to shed dead weight.

I am free. I am free. I am free.
I have always been 
intimately, utterly myself. 


I invoke hope, and truth, 

and communion and community.

I invoke Love to flow through me. 

I am one with Truth’s Reality. 



There is no fear that binds me. 

No darkness blinds me. 

I am light shining divinely through.

I am a crystallized sun and a holographic moon.



I am the rebirth, and I am the womb.
I bloom. I bloom. I bloom.

We’ll start with a cackle
when I think to myself of spiritual principle
and the voices in my head debate the ideal
I stop thinking, by circumlocution

saying every different perspective,
to unsay the unsayable
I am right and I am wrong
I am here and I am there
I am all and I am nothing
yada yada yada, bla bla bla
whatever

At which point, I am presented with the hysterical image,
and idea, of “god” however you understand that,
to present itself as a bush, and say
“ I am who am” I am the alpha and the omega,
and so on and so forth.

Essentially evading the question,
because there is no answer.
It cannot be spoken.

Words are predicated on understanding,
but when we follow that thread of context back to its source,
we are left with pure, unadulterated awareness.

And what is that? It doesn’t need to be said.
It needs no context, no justification.
It simply exists and is being and is truth.
It demands to be known.
We cannot live without it.

Love abundant, everlasting
only comes when we’re not grasping
Truth can bind the eyes to the sky
but with a heavy heart you cannot fly

Air cannot be jarred and hoarded
labeled, priced, and then imported
Love cannot be only mine
but with each breath my heart aligns

When I’m left no longer clinging
to my pains and wants and thinking
Evidence of Love is singing
to my heart through piqued up ears

I climbed the mountain, fell in darkness
felt my heart sink, saw the ground
but as I thought the end was here
it dissipated into sound

If life is beating, then retreating;
dancing ‘round the burning bush
Death is left when ash returns
to cradling, beautiful, silent hush

The sudden epiphany of absurdity

when reality has a way of mirroring us

like a funhouse



That explosion of laughter

and the relief that comes with it:

that it’s not so serious



I’m talking to myself

of taking the plunge

Jumping off the cliff

with not a doubt in my heart

that I will fly



and I’m listening to 
root chakra frequencies

but I didn’t even realize

until I saw myself

in the mirror



The truth?

I want to hold a hand

as I soar in metaphor

My feet still rooted to this land

for I know there’s more



So much to explore

but

I can’t do it alone

I won’t



All passion pouring

out of a hole

in the bottom 
of my sinking heart



I was always willing to drown

dissolve

become an ocean



before

I neither expect nor reject
I’ll just be open to what’s next
Dreams made, believed, come manifest
but only when I let them rest

Investing all my energy in synergy
Aligning with the truth of One reality
Trusting in the plan and what is meant for me
Seeing I’m supported, fulfilled and free

I believe it will turn out as it’s supposed to
so I’m surrendering control and choosing virtue
Spreading love from up above to make the world new
I hope you’ll join me, too

I wake this morning to soft white,

welcoming overcast skies

the wind surge goes to and fro 

misting pitter patterned rain

upon my window pane



Each thrush and intermittent hush

coaxes my heart back to sleep

and after the rock tense stress of yesterday

it’s a well needed reprieve



For someone so prone to noise sensitivity

I sure do love birdsong, and the static

background, whispering wind


even the humming, mechanical noise, in the distance

contributes as an instrument in an unscripted song

and the cars passing by on the road play along



I think about how poetry can be

struggling to unwrap yourself

when you’re all wound up with rope

and ending up tripping

because every one way ties you up another



Or it can be rhythmic and enchanting;

a magical dance with fate and space

where the mind locks in and the heart beats

in tune with passing waves above, around, within

and everything is beautiful til the heart sinks



because it’s frustrating, knowing

some days the ocean fills you up

and you’re levitating

and it’s POWER in its most essential form

choosing you, flowing through you

and nothing can stop the poem from being born



other days, staring at a page

eyes glazed over, heart full of rage

wanting catharsis, fearing art has become

just a sensitive kid who’s afraid to take the stage



don’t look at me, don’t see me, please

if you don’t care, don’t fake it

i miss the days I’d freely say

whatever stole my heart to break it



but don’t forget me, please forgive

i can’t do this alone

i’ve given everything to this

i’ve made this place my home



all the while the funny little mind wanders

casting prismatic pebbles in the dark

for just a glint

whilst the great cosmic laughter erupts

and the hologram blinks

exposing everything
as light

In the beauty and splendor of the morning light
there is newfound glory, and truth to behold
Through toils and troubles I have found my might
In transmuting darkness, does love unfold

With every step I take, 
though I fear my back may break
and life may beat me down, 
and all seem to forsake

When every moment squandered seems
a waste of life in bated breaths,
and harrowing the mysteries, 
that come just before death

I know my heart cannot be free
of life and love and precious things
I’ll be rebirthed in sanctity
surrendering to spring

the pursuit of happiness rarely ever
feels fruitful to me, as a pursuit, anymore
but when it is acknowledgement of inherent joy,
it is abundant and flourishing,
like sunlight, water, or air

Everything is Being, in its most quintessential form. I'm reading The Doors of Perception, and while I disagree with a lot of what Huxley says in the book, the concept of "Suchness" as an ever present fundament of reality is close to my heart. I think the mind, in its folly, approaches that graceful bumbling and stumbling through which the overarching world, too, transpires into Being. Things that seem imperfect are tantamount to the immaculacy of the Pattern.
People see seasons and cycles, years, and births and deaths. They see decay and blossoming. They see in this the liminality of truth, and understand, as we do the contained and confounding grid-work of particles under force forming atoms forming forms, that all things are bleeding at the edges. The problem of identity is age old and often understood to be Oneness. This concept permeates philosophy, religion and culture; we are social animals, bound to Love to survive and coexist. We seek to understand ourselves, to understand the world, to make something of This. It's simple, and it isn't. We're making do with what we have. I think everything makes sense, and we struggle to make sense out of everything, because we are tethered to the corporeal illusion of separation; and I think, that is perfect, too, because it facilitates awareness of connection through reflection.
There is a great, profound truth in that all things are one body, but that doesn't make this any less "real."
Real is just a word; what matters is how we choose to use it.

bombardment of the senses
enlightened but inundated
the mind cracks, and self  
is exposed as vacuous

Being, freely being
to manifest in purity
align with authenticity

Embrace my abnormalities

to coalesce with clarity



because truth

is where I’m meant to be;

the meaning of life

breathing life into me


A reason for believing

when I’m born to be achieving
Me



I’ll trust in the touch

that touches deeply,

bleed into the energy

seeing me perceiving, 


when I’m gleaming with integrity

as is my integration 

with vibrations of eternity



I was, and will forever be

exactly as I’m meant to

I trust in my essential being

and surrender, as to bloom



I am Love in full expression;

no digression, lest I suffocate

In being born, and all Life’s lessons,

with truest self, I integrate

My mind rambles

until it’s time to write



Maybe I should meditate

on an empty page

there’s this sense of possibility
but this inner knowing
that I won’t have to fight
for the right to take up space
in the place where I belong

So I’ll let go



i am open to intimacy
but i will not pursue it
i’ll let it pursue me
that’s how i’ll know who really cares

and while I’m here, waiting
i’ll focus on caring for myself

I want to live in this state

where every breath feels like vaporous gold

my blood is ablaze with the violet flame

and the gravity of cosmic, celestial ethereality

suspends each simple speck of being,

pulsating with transcendent, growing energy



Aperture adjustment; 

light parts the mist of the physical

a bloom, returned

consumed in energetic being


seeing through illusion


I want to transmute

the frazzled, festering things

that constitute the dissonant;


returned to harmony

with a decisive tap!

like liquid crystals flipped

to shine white light



Melt the astral ice

entice my mind and soul

to cascade into the ocean;

dissipate my shaking being;

make me feel whole



I am love. I am love. I am Love.

I am nothing.

Look in the mirror
Kernel of the eternal
Sees only body

No weight can bring me down
cause I can lift it!
I’m working out now
and I’ll be bliss-ripped!

Any time I feel heavy
I’m dancing on my feet!
If I must shoulder the weight of the world
I just need more to eat!

Cause I’m getting shredded in my levity,
and happiness is in me.
I’ll do push ups with mountains on my back
and fly with boulders on my feet!

I’m laughing cause this energy
would try to weigh me down.
In my faith and synergy
I have the strength for leaps and bounds.

I’m realizing now that Love is training me
to be a force for good and light,
and flow with Truth eternally.

My gratitude will build me up!
I’m already aligned!
For, every challenge I might face
is a lesson given from the divine

this poem is intentionally bad on purpose

Thou, shall I compare, then,
to a sunmer day?
as that it is that thy art splendiferous in a way of which
i cannot thee abate

so bright is your effusion
that it shines
and they say that it’s light that’s divinely fine

if a red rose can’t be sweet without it’s thorns
your complexion around which all beauty dost be adorned
girl you make me feel so incredibly warm
and fuzzy inside
i don’t need to watch ****

id rather talk to you and i can tell you that that is true
because before we were one and now we make 2
but im so close to you girl i think it might actually be true
we were one all along but now were won that’s new

i know we just met on tinder the other day
but bae
please tell me forever that you will stay

It resonates, and it is a melody
in harmony with your song.
You resonate,
and you write an ode to it.

You serenade it,
embody its energy,
match its frequency
with your whole being.

It resonates with you,
and it is a tune,
and you are complete.

You resonate with it
and you are open, empty,
ready to eat of its fruit;
become a part of it
as it becomes a part of you.

Am I too rigid in my windiness?
Am I too mutable to coalesce?
Too stuck on shifting with the breeze
to be mellifluous?

Am I a one man band
against a symphony
of endlessness?

I say it resonates,
but I’m expressed;
removed from zephyr
and born as breath.

A ‘more’, amor,
but nothing more
than breadth
without substance

When confronted with the inexplicable,
the human mind seeks to rationalize, 
explain,
and fit information into an established worldview.

When confronted with the incomprehensible, the mind recoils. 

It shrinks into and attempts to consume itself.

You cannot wrap self over self.
You cannot become the outer and the inner.
You are but a superposition of the visage of God;
a superficial reflection of divinity’s affection.

You cannot become the subconscious
of your subconscious.
You cannot become the intuition
of your intuition.  

You can shed the mind and be present.

You can breathe and connect
and form a circuit between;
be a conduit for varying information
of different vibrations and intensities.

Form a loop that spells infinity.

This transition is the interstitium;
where information acts synaptic;
where transference relays occurrence
between two spaces with different interfaces.

It is elastic.
It is magic in liminal plastic,
snapping back and creating
the dialogue with self.

It is a circuit of convergence
where purpose meets inertia.
It is neither beginning nor end.
It is betwixt real and pretend.

It can upend the rend
of space and face;
time and place, and waste and worth.

It interweaves the world with dreams
and breathes new life into your needs.
It knows you without knowing anything.

It knows your feelings,
and the concepts you can’t speak.
It is your mind not minding.
Infinity across dividing.

I open up to my mother
she listens begrudgingly
but physically
cold shoulder

I point out her body language
she says I’m on the attack
I just want peace
but a cold war is still a war

He coughs all day to numb the pain
releasing it in clouds around him
every sound has a weight on my heart
and it never ends

I want to escape
but I’m frozen in place
and I’m not interested in playing pretend
Maybe ignorance is bliss and this
is suffering needlessly

I can’t escape
paralysis
except when I’m asleep

demons used to chase me
in the worlds inside my dreams
one day, i touched the bottom
surfaced from beneath the waters
woke but couldn’t move

at the end of my bed
a demon waited
so i sent waves of energy in its direction
and freed myself

even the most fearsome monsters
respond to these vibrations
is that how they see me?
certainly I’m no exception

You won’t get boiling water by throwing ice into a fire.

my heart yearns
in shouts that span the sky
but i found love stumbling
into a hole in the wall

in a momentary interaction
vanishing

maybe there is hope for me yet