linaji - Hello Poetry

Sinner What have I done to my world? Egrets Pelicans Whales Are you diving into the plume A 10 mile depth of black hell? Are you in another dimension now? Have you given up on this world of Easy living? I am guilty. I work too much and care less As one superficial lifestyle Blends into the other Money seems like security blanket It is Not. My land is covered in a part of me that dies As the sea spits up the overdose of Consumerism. Each time I feel the powerlessness of hope fade I take my plastic water bottle and throw it into a Bin labeled RECYCLE… HA! Plastic OIL OIL OIL… PLASTIC ******* Hell, I bet oil is in my food chain somewhere A box that makes it easy to cook in A packing tool to deliver me the goods OIL OIL OIL Saturated Guilt I feel like a harlot A sinner A part of something I cannot stop I don’t want my world to look like this Stop Me. From the desire for convenience Let me take living down a notch or two Let me see with a part of me that is lost THIS IS A CRY IN (the sledge of redemption) I remember my body gave me another chance When I filled it with poisons that made me feel good (you know what they are) Will you do the same? Oh heavenly body that holds my own. Can you ever forgive me? Linaji

0

Jan 7, 2012

Jan 7, 2012 at 1:02 PM UTC

Sinner

Sinner What have I done to my world? Egrets Pelicans Whales Are you diving into the plume A 10 mile depth of black hell? Are you in another dimension now? Have you given up on this world of Easy living? I am guilty. I work too much and care less As one superficial lifestyle Blends into the other Money seems like security blanket It is Not. My land is covered in a part of me that dies As the sea spits up the overdose of Consumerism. Each time I feel the powerlessness of hope fade I take my plastic water bottle and throw it into a Bin labeled RECYCLE… HA! Plastic OIL OIL OIL… PLASTIC ******* Hell, I bet oil is in my food chain somewhere A box that makes it easy to cook in A packing tool to deliver me the goods OIL OIL OIL Saturated Guilt I feel like a harlot A sinner A part of something I cannot stop I don’t want my world to look like this Stop Me. From the desire for convenience Let me take living down a notch or two Let me see with a part of me that is lost THIS IS A CRY IN (the sledge of redemption) I remember my body gave me another chance When I filled it with poisons that made me feel good (you know what they are) Will you do the same? Oh heavenly body that holds my own. Can you ever forgive me? Linaji

49

let’s not hesitate let’s not broach the subject; _butterflies are free_ transform the unknown purgatories fall from lofty 'par for the course' concepts to living life in purity they fly a short flight _(that’s restless)_ they fall towards the trees _(that’s abandon)_ they light my eyes without hesitation _(that’s free)_ "Oh my butterflies of clipped existence bring me more loves _lighthearted_ clarity"

0

Nov 27, 2011

Nov 27, 2011 at 11:56 AM UTC

BROACHing Butterflies

let’s not hesitate let’s not broach the subject; _butterflies are free_ transform the unknown purgatories fall from lofty 'par for the course' concepts to living life in purity they fly a short flight _(that’s restless)_ they fall towards the trees _(that’s abandon)_ they light my eyes without hesitation _(that’s free)_ "Oh my butterflies of clipped existence bring me more loves _lighthearted_ clarity"

10

Substratum Beneath the surface there are blocks of time a keep ticking ticker investments in soiled identities that are loosing clots of what never was. There is treasure too, locked away in a nautilus shell waiting for the call of the wild key bits and bobs of let loose and fancy free Also locked away is my familiar azure blue and tonic green amiability The 'cannot' telling is the buzzing round your sailent (fears) ears, like unused sails slapping at thin defeated air strikes called possibilities... here I avoid all contact (you asked me to) yet here you display stagnent reaction with absent mind you forget the yesterdays and how you long to hear what you ask me not to say absent now both of us have decided in secret: lock out the playful place slide below the surface (substratum) (we find) serendipitous angst, common place cross our fingers behind our backs as promises will not fix our fateful syntax Linaji

0

Nov 25, 2011

Nov 25, 2011 at 11:42 AM UTC

Substratum

Substratum Beneath the surface there are blocks of time a keep ticking ticker investments in soiled identities that are loosing clots of what never was. There is treasure too, locked away in a nautilus shell waiting for the call of the wild key bits and bobs of let loose and fancy free Also locked away is my familiar azure blue and tonic green amiability The 'cannot' telling is the buzzing round your sailent (fears) ears, like unused sails slapping at thin defeated air strikes called possibilities... here I avoid all contact (you asked me to) yet here you display stagnent reaction with absent mind you forget the yesterdays and how you long to hear what you ask me not to say absent now both of us have decided in secret: lock out the playful place slide below the surface (substratum) (we find) serendipitous angst, common place cross our fingers behind our backs as promises will not fix our fateful syntax Linaji

33

You know what it’s like to be alone with god? (long version) (An infinite rustle of ideas Silenced in this steady heart.) Here my shoes fall freely god knows I’m hungry for primitive answers; you see I relate to life’s barefoot minimum while maintaining a full set of godly lotus lashes, who’s petals fall like thin paper trails where I rest my mind as I savor earths crooning tempo At night with you god the fires burn like morning coals Just enough to start the coffee, Just enough to wash my face Just enough to sip away night trails made of lust from another existence. genuflection in prayer is my choice because this position lends me a humbleness that makes clear my own yearnings, my desires are purified into understanding that I can never stop this flow of desire. I pray with connective tissue smells of jasmine and myrrh and pinpoint the dust bowls of fury hiding north of my shoulder blades. I am soothed by the contrast, where I bow my head and make my own pearls of wisdom to follow, you hummm to my knowing, you dance to my foibles like prince did in purple rain. You never ask for love, I Just feel like love. I ponder: don’t you think god that this fermenting human existence is innocent after all? after the fall (after birth love’s forgotten all knowing) for it is in birth I am blinded by my mothers cooing call and now, that’s all. It really does not matter why I forgot I remember now All of this ‘knowing’ triggered by my failings Triggered by the lack of ‘others’ to fill me up Triggered by the desperation to know who I really am because of my … failings I look above and our likeness is astounding, I may faint in the truth of it ALL… I am flush to the bone I fall Landing in the crucifix position Against the wall of Desdemona’s illusions I lift the veil I open up to your call (The All In All) You said, “and greater works shall ye do than me” You said, “be still and know that I am god”. “The seed does not fall far from the tree,” you said The busy bees came through imagined murderous pesticides That was my life (imagined) and their words hummed me towards my alignment “accept your magnificence” they buzzed then god said: ”change your focus and let your failings fall like tears (did you say duckwater god?) …magnify the joy” And you will see The I (In You) And The (You In) Me. Linaji 2011

0

Nov 24, 2011

Nov 24, 2011 at 11:16 AM UTC

long version: you know what it's like to be alone with god?

You know what it’s like to be alone with god? (long version) (An infinite rustle of ideas Silenced in this steady heart.) Here my shoes fall freely god knows I’m hungry for primitive answers; you see I relate to life’s barefoot minimum while maintaining a full set of godly lotus lashes, who’s petals fall like thin paper trails where I rest my mind as I savor earths crooning tempo At night with you god the fires burn like morning coals Just enough to start the coffee, Just enough to wash my face Just enough to sip away night trails made of lust from another existence. genuflection in prayer is my choice because this position lends me a humbleness that makes clear my own yearnings, my desires are purified into understanding that I can never stop this flow of desire. I pray with connective tissue smells of jasmine and myrrh and pinpoint the dust bowls of fury hiding north of my shoulder blades. I am soothed by the contrast, where I bow my head and make my own pearls of wisdom to follow, you hummm to my knowing, you dance to my foibles like prince did in purple rain. You never ask for love, I Just feel like love. I ponder: don’t you think god that this fermenting human existence is innocent after all? after the fall (after birth love’s forgotten all knowing) for it is in birth I am blinded by my mothers cooing call and now, that’s all. It really does not matter why I forgot I remember now All of this ‘knowing’ triggered by my failings Triggered by the lack of ‘others’ to fill me up Triggered by the desperation to know who I really am because of my … failings I look above and our likeness is astounding, I may faint in the truth of it ALL… I am flush to the bone I fall Landing in the crucifix position Against the wall of Desdemona’s illusions I lift the veil I open up to your call (The All In All) You said, “and greater works shall ye do than me” You said, “be still and know that I am god”. “The seed does not fall far from the tree,” you said The busy bees came through imagined murderous pesticides That was my life (imagined) and their words hummed me towards my alignment “accept your magnificence” they buzzed then god said: ”change your focus and let your failings fall like tears (did you say duckwater god?) …magnify the joy” And you will see The I (In You) And The (You In) Me. Linaji 2011

58

she still engages casuistic red-water birth she still swims in the mote of her mother’s eye grasping upward (hope) pure waters release she wants more than peace, she wants the ‘come out’ surprise, earth’s birthed again ideas a body not afraid of past lies.

0

Nov 23, 2011

Nov 23, 2011 at 10:45 AM UTC

Red Water Birth

she still engages casuistic red-water birth she still swims in the mote of her mother’s eye grasping upward (hope) pure waters release she wants more than peace, she wants the ‘come out’ surprise, earth’s birthed again ideas a body not afraid of past lies.

7

(An infinite rustle of ideas Silenced in this steady heart.)

0

Nov 21, 2011

Nov 21, 2011 at 5:20 PM UTC

You know what it’s like to be alone with God?

(An infinite rustle of ideas Silenced in this steady heart.)

2

I’m cold today, opened the door and the **slight bite chill** that was not there yesterday done bit me hard. It’s here, the seclusion has set in winter’s hand will not let go. I begin to light the fire within.

0

Nov 21, 2011

Nov 21, 2011 at 4:14 PM UTC

The Vortex of Winter

I’m cold today, opened the door and the **slight bite chill** that was not there yesterday done bit me hard. It’s here, the seclusion has set in winter’s hand will not let go. I begin to light the fire within.

10

Today could be the day first bitten spring curls beneath my hopeful brow blackest dirt sings richness alarmed with promised growth inside out openings loves embracing rows upon rows peerless shining truths fed on black water planted without doubt my ancestor forgiveness seeds Today could be the day Alice’s rabbit hole found first small spurts ant energy marching ... intent sober clean see yonder the finish line? My feet crippled tied up to old stories fathomed deep with slots for copper pennies unworkable killable outdated and futile slathered in history are cheap resigned actions day after day groundhog sing songs each morning eyes dry with snake cures seeing my other side of the bed missing out slide rule elements of now of what could be Today could be the day cherub heart Pink with expectation alive with bringing forth communes both sides into action I lay here supple feeling the cure ready for the change I seek.

0

Nov 21, 2011

Nov 21, 2011 at 9:09 AM UTC

Today Could Be The Day

Today could be the day first bitten spring curls beneath my hopeful brow blackest dirt sings richness alarmed with promised growth inside out openings loves embracing rows upon rows peerless shining truths fed on black water planted without doubt my ancestor forgiveness seeds Today could be the day Alice’s rabbit hole found first small spurts ant energy marching ... intent sober clean see yonder the finish line? My feet crippled tied up to old stories fathomed deep with slots for copper pennies unworkable killable outdated and futile slathered in history are cheap resigned actions day after day groundhog sing songs each morning eyes dry with snake cures seeing my other side of the bed missing out slide rule elements of now of what could be Today could be the day cherub heart Pink with expectation alive with bringing forth communes both sides into action I lay here supple feeling the cure ready for the change I seek.

59

It feels fitting today to wonder the docks are full of slumber sails are resting on boats that keep waiting to engage once more her wild sea.

0

Nov 20, 2011

Nov 20, 2011 at 6:58 AM UTC

A world of wondering