Why do we often see ourselves as cracked mirrored monsters
and soul-less entities that are worth less than the next ?

How does this ring true to the infinite beauty that you know lies within your self.
In the form of cells and dna...in the form of your ethereal creation...in the hug you give some one...

It is not the mistrust of yourself that seeps into your pores but it is the mistrust of a world in which 'an honest lie' is called advertising and a commended joy.  

We have no morals , no code of conduct , we are free to chose yet condemned to no choice unless we ourselves decide that it is so.

For nothing is , until we deem it.

The sun is not a sun until i say so , at least not to me.
I am a universe unto myself and a god unto my own being,
i am creation's destruction.

Even if we don't always feel it , we always are it.

There is, a colder side to the summer but only so we know what cold is and what hot can be.
We are no more nor less than the ant, than the bumble bee.

i remember now, it was by the tree that i found the fallen star. I saw it from my window as i lay waiting for sleep to visit, the moon was full to the brim that night. Spilling lucid light onto the landscape adding highlights to the dales and lowlights to the fields of tea.

The fallen star was still warm, i hoped i could save it. So i climbed the tree with the star tucked in my jacket pocket. Limb over limb till i sat on the crown, ready to call the route for the fallen star to go home.

That is when it began to talk.

"I am here, to make sure you know there is only one thing

that will stop you.

It’s in plain sight but hidden under a mask,

your best friend who will ask you to make amends.

Under the rocks into the caves it’s a farce it’s a maze. So all you have to do is ask and you’ll find your way home”

and with that the fallen star fell.

My head spins, twirling in colors of essential essanance
the barrries fall onto
floors non existant ground
and simple pleasures
of conversational munch

are triply seductive

the nature that has been robbed will be returned
the love that has been lost will be found
the trees that are cut will grow

and the souls that are condemened will be freed

but it must freeze

what lies at the core of fools
tell me ,
if you could be so kind?

kindred spirits of the philosophical type
who have seen the darkness and fight the flowers fall ,

the tree of universes shakes
and breathes a sigh

all the wind orginated from this spot
eminating out of the simple
simple stop  ,

cat calls - forest walls

honest bums
sit
no place like home they say
i say no place called home

no place other than home
as it walks with me
side by side
unto the power places
chakras glow and merger
connotations
******

but the defenition is flexiable

determine the point ,
touch the joints
heat the fall
and ***** it all

you only have this time around its all we've ever had.

who is it
that defines the love in our lives
but parent hood figures made out of wood frozn in time and we watch at the spirals unwind
and the lemons
are zingy and the mint is fresh
and i sleep on a bears bed
baby bear , mother too - wolves out alone standiing o howl at the mooon
and awoooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
we've come so far
on the riptide of loves handslide
handshake
discovering for oursleves what we deem humanities race
and what we deem fools and tounges
and what we deem to be the runner out run
who comes first in a race
who comes fist before the fired gun
who sits and the hollow has come.

Butterscotch Dark Chocolate

Infused with rose quartz

dragonfly transfiguration elixer

Electric tingle , lightning skin
thunder breath on

   nape of neck .

Always running with time,
never out of it

i am the time keeper

brilliant blue luminescence
visionary excellence
humble sensi bow

healing myriad of energy geometric patterns
on third eye

visions.

i saw pink wildflowers appear in your eyes and a nebula display of star birth awash your iris
unleashed in your principle,
confusion vigil
wrestle to *** - just like christmas

A runner off before the gun , my hands tied behind my back
i made my way into the dark crevices of myself.

I turned my back on the outer world not to emerge until
i’d seen what was lurking in the shadows.
Demons. I walked into their ranks and told them to tear me apart…. I watched it all… My blood spilt into the torrents of rain….Once they were done…. all that was left was my eyes.


They are blacker than before, but with a hint of starshine in them now…
Whilst the deamons went to wash themselves and get a pint before closing time…..
I took alook around this new landscape.
The signs i was always looking for were all around me…. in every single thing i happened to see….and every unexpected turn i took looking around that town led me to new and brighter , bolder and almost iridecent signs untill the signs became me and i became the signs.

That’s when i began to dance , and dance i did. I danced with the devil and and fox trotted with the angels, we spun on the wheels of great time leaving all the business of past , present , future behind…. we existed only in the swish of a skirt or the click of the heel…..we were pirates of the cosmic tides , we knew only the ocean , never to set foot on land again. Unless, it was the island. The island where seven days a week i could just bask in the sunshine that is your smile, where only the surreal existed.

many moons ago we were best friends looking out over the rooftops. spotting the church spires and loft flats.

We’d sit in bed eating blueberries, raspberry’s, salad, whatever i’d baked that week or the leftovers of your culinary experiment. Watching re-runs and obscure horror movies.  i knew i could love you from the moment i saw you, sitting in the dappeled evening light immersed in conversation. the frown on your face spreading into a smile and then a laugh that hit me in waves.

but i never told you. How everytime i saw you my heart would beat so hard and so fast i was afraid it’d give me away and you’d hear it.

they say live with no regrets but how can i when i let you go so easily, when i should’ve fought and protested. stood my ground and bared my heart, my soul, me. becuase you, of all people, speak that lost language.

you’d cradle my heart , embrace my soul and you would have loved me back.

Waking up this morning felt like i’d already done so much wrong , the taunting voice i haven’t heard for a while was back with jibes of ” not good enough”.Still, the day moved by and the sun blazed most of the time away.  So we spend a few hours napping and wake up thinking it’s the morning again. Soon after a movie lunch i’m anxious , heightened to a level where i scroll and scroll through social media screens until i pull myself away and meditate. This time i am aware . I sit facing the west , asking for release , feeling and not running . Acknowledging and sending love with conscious intent of “let go” to the moments, “let go” the people whom those moments are attached to. I feel it out , like being birthed. Like being birthed there is painful slowness where the depth and intricacy of the moment are safeguarded by sturdy patience , slow my soul to a standstill …. Of breath and closed eyes - frankincense smoke and angel guide so close to my ear breaths whisper fallacies away and when all is still , there - then , the tears and drooling mouth where i don’t care for the vampire stealing some poor soul elsewhere nor the motion of the sun’s axis. Breathing , stretching , balance. A timeless viewpoint arriving back in the frame.  When all is ready the tree calls out for a conversation . The bed is filled with a love , whom i eye with new lenses each day , checking to see if i am seeing an image i desire or the majestic view of a wild solitary flame in the middle suburb. But , there he is. Even clearer than before. Take one hole at a time he told me once about a golfer. Take each 24 hours at a time. I become honorary American. I eat 2 smores and 3 deer grace us with their ethereal presence as the luminescent flare of final sunshine dip dives to dusk’s quintessential hue of deep ocean blue. Grandma has a hungry monster inside her as i eat the watermelon grown with pesticides in a house full of things. Tarot cards are up to 35. It’s easier to wake up here early , it’s like the day slides like melted butter off pancakes.

the elephant in the room
i am not fighting the system,
i am not fighting anyone
i am embodying the truth and that in itself is the easiest thing to do it requires no war.
i am choosing to not play the game with a rigged die,
this is no old energy, she is the most ancient energy.


Like a flow of water possible of tearing down houses or caressing the smallest flower. The door is open and she came knocking on my heart, shaking the cobwebs from these stagnant corners reminding me it was I who had to open the door, no matter how many knocks or rings of the bell.
all the signs, all the perfect timings all of it boils down to me as always. The Elephant in the room.

Perceptions are relative,
lives in lives
start at twists of fate , one moment too late ,
one too early
open the doors
No matter which way it may seem , crudely put as good and evil

harmony strums from both

did i tell you?
my face changes
depending on
who's looking

to some i seem southern spain
to some i seem from the Ashanti tribe.

You are a
     Fox in a beard
            With morals and
Values some may fear
Due to your honest , straight
Nature,
              But I can see more
Than that .
           I can see the hurt
Aspects in your eyes, that
Make you
              That much kinder –
      For out of pain,
Those, who choose –
Can birth and
Form much
Richness of character
And bear more of the elusive soul - rarely seen without the ego garb - but in this case , is slowly taking off the costume to reveal the secrets within.

---------------


Stretched out like a green mountain lion –
A tickling of pride and mocked nonchalance dance side by side in your Eyes accompanied by
The slight fiendish grin
That overcomes your
Face when you
Know I can’t resist
You anymore

Helios , mexicana
dip diving to solar frontiers,
we are not dispersed amongst a boundless , dead , cold cosmos
we are nestled among the ***** of a warm , emotional , vibratory tone like a bell universes nebula eye in a storm , bumble bee to beetle bug , largest whale to smallest ant mixoligy lesson in creation.

tame those furrowed minds
and be fed , with the grace of a learned lover , by the hand of magnificence,

soliloquies of silence
interrupted by fresh dewed tips -
and subtle variations of tingling sensations
where do i start..
pressure before the storm.....
illustrious clouds break open heavenly showers of golden light rainbow water droplets
and i’m coated in the elixir of a thousand sunset,sunrise,noon time clouds
painted by the colors that these mischievous droplets of water have been ,

it is dreamscapes luxuries that escape in mid afternoon ,
mid night time


at invitations glance
and slight brush stroke of hand leads to quiet moan from lips escape the mind pleasantly ******* in a pearl like haze

invisible fingers wonder yonder and invisible lips bite at soft spots
yet

the experiment continues for the transference of energy cascaded gathered up in
chakra centers with bounce between head and root three times then down to earth then up to crown the energy returns electric.

Room 14 with the starfruit tree and pink blossoms out front and a Sala perfect for dances
Stargazing and rain dances
In the shadows of mother in the hearts of others
i found the beat , the movements of time and space co - create
I am part of the convoy to welcome in the rains of spiritual nourishment , for myself included

What better place than black sanded temples of resistance and Art Cafe's with deep sea explorers as their musical accompaniment
Searching for secret beaches only to find temple forests ,  vast cliffs of vast air and vast sea playing with the light that rains down in sheets to the ocean floor , refracting into golden hues of deep blue , white froth and aqua

Finally a beach , packed to the brim

World turns slowly I am filled
40,000ft deep in the Cosmic Ocean
Puffed grey islands in a sea of mist
Pervading the awareness of Earth moving in a curling fashion, ancient bones creak slowly as the sun disappears from view

Even when human beings try to run or hide, create far flung ways of being away from their nature
A single star appears and a trio of lights blink on at the ground
unison movement
like a long laugh echoing along the circumference of our humanness
we return to our universal nature despite.

Asleep in a den made out of
furry dreams
and cinnamon bun kisses

restful peace overcomes the interlude
of restless discord

the finish is a start
harness the power from this reset
there is

hope yet,
for the other realities to emerge from the beat of sun drums and moon flutes

Well , i may as well use the powers i've gained through hard lessons

Healing myself is now applicable.

Nice one , universe, did you see this coming?

Did you see this ....God?
I guess you did ,

hmmm.

Makes me think how do we look , us humans ...from an outer planetary perspective -

Looking for peace of mind , made me realize that it was never not there.

just obscured by a slowly clearing fog now ..

i can smell the fresh dawns

this time .

something tells me good adventures and plain sailing is on horizons dip point,

i ain't gunna say no baby!

hoist the sails, we sail on till dawn -

We pray to each other - the movement of all  , inside us is
honored , respected , cherished

we touch each others hearts and then we growl and move a hand to the neck and the other pulling gently on hair ,
expanding into a paradox's conclusion.

we sang a song the 3 of us, 3
generations dancing om
and ahum to the sound of a singing bowl ring ring ring as we
welcomed the sun
up up up thru clouds etched supernatural perpetual hues of pink sung
sung sung back to us and beneath our toes inside our hearts earth vibrates when we remember why we are here,
and then live from this place

Dance ,
    no one watches
                             you live yours.

Enigmatic and sulphuric
wonders and detouring ,
outside the box alluring
tempter of faint touches
skip the lust head to lunches

dip in the basket
dreams collide.
they have to!
BUT THEY NEVER STAY THE SAME
same vibe tho
He lost illusions delusions
and i lost the shy veneer of freelance escort
some may call -

but if you knew me as well as he does then you know that
lovers are lovers , and friends are friends - do everything with your heart
and it’ll ring true in the end.

I rest , slightly out of breath
Floating ...
In a little canoe carved with etched markings of ancient tradition - native - to mama earths paintbrush
Offering my naked body sleek with a slight sheen of daytime heat,
my face shadowed by the brim of a banana tree leaf sombrero ,

Lazily drifting into giant Lilly pads , lotus flowers spring up , rich sumptuous yellow suns adorned with skins of deep purple petals
Where I go , I don't know - Rivers leads the way

Curvaceous as my curls the water meanders into Lake Meru

Gently disturbing the pristine reflections of misty cloud mountains
Ripples cascade into the placid watery depths as I dock in where the river meets land , to find the seven nymphs waiting , to guide me home.

All this time , woven into a shirt that is iradeccent as the halo around lady moon as night falls across the vally.

The last drops of sunset burning orange adorn my locks ,

Fire light calls and beckons , dancing flames whisper sensual pleasures and lick my skin leaving residual memories of rooftop nights , but , today we lie on the earthen - hearth falling asleep to the cradling , rocking rhythm that is
Sacred lullaby

Notes got us high on paper wings

Leave these flesh bodies in favour

Of ethereal

And father sky's cloud kingdom - star shine
Coats each kiss in bioluminescence
Forget cloud 9 , this , I, heaven on earth

When we return , bodies paired with dew

Under the blanket of sunrise
Serene

I have drunk from the mountain stream
Clean , clear , free.

Oh!  i !

Ooo! I !

Ahh... I!!!

Yes
i thought i knew it all and every time i think that
something comes along
and knocks me on the ***
and says "excuse me but ahem" .

With distance
the distaste only grew ,
with time and foreign lands my tree of wisdom only grew
from the confines of meditational winter sprung forth with the seasons change a fresh spring
that led to summers bloom and now with autumns orange face upon us i find myself back where i began ,

where i ran , it seems i was running back
where i thought i had no map , there was something pulling me to a home of sorts
more than one , too many to name , in people who live and in places that breathe
where i roamed , where i broke down walls triumphantly pulling the bricks and letting the river flow through the once more
no more ****** damns to hold back the floodwaters

i had an inkling i was running off borrowed time
or at least credit
death on credit
death in reverse
birthed rebirth
again and again

yet here i am still in deaths ruptured flow -
the unconditional love ran out mother ,
it ran out and you used it up
you used it so , i know you needed it
so from my child’s heart uninteruppted i let that one go
i held it aloft so you would know that no matter what you do , you are loves loved love

you are loves , loved love
but , it all came crashing down around my ears and around my throat a noose with no name
but a holy ghost escaped my lips in angry overtones = this argument for arguments sake
and tears hot on my cheeks filling up my mouth with anti-septic salt water drops
that doused my locks and you said “come back to me when you can speak without crying”

tears are but distilled wisdom and i am your teacher
i am your child - for a reason , i learnt much from you but how much more can you learn from me..
for i am not you - but a part - apart
and the smoke fills my eyes blurring the lines between reality

but i had enough , respect is intended - always
but i have respect in myself and that’s what you taught me.

That’s why i smile at people on the bus and talk to strangers ; because
everyone is reaching their own goals, shining their own light and love is shared , mother , love is shared.
and i try to love
but love seems to be distant
i love

four men

one - island man
two - island man
three- island man
four - out way somewhere i don’t know , never have graced , hope to grace and maybe touch his face ,

is this wrong? is this why i sit up at night with restless dreams
because whenever i see any one of them my heart turns to shreds
and i recall what that love is one more time
one more time
on more time

one - touches and lunch
two - dinner without touches, yet.
three - cheesy beans and laughter lines
four - astral planes baby ,

it’s raining again .
i’m siting under a tree in holloway
next to a knoll with hot chocolate , passport photos and cigarettes

are they not all one and the same
whom would i devote my entirety to , would you take it?
would you take it?
could you take it?

where do we stop?
why not stop..why stop. stop. what? stop loves riptide ?
not likely , not by chance , but by simplistic design
no i will not go
i will stay

please, please.. please.

i want to dance , with you who are you?
an enigma of epic proportions

i read somewhere that if a poet falls in love with you then you will never be forgotten
forever imortalized in their sonnets
and yes , it is true

lover why so shy? why so elusive , who is your soul
won’t you quietly tell me of the bruises won’t you tell me your secrets
and let me smooth down your shorn hair

two.

this world was made to share
and so is my love
so it is my love ,

we are wounded healers
and my , have i never heard anything as poetic as that.

but i cannot stay lone with all this love as it burst forth because it is mine. mother .
it is mine.

so.

dinner.

Heaven & Hell

to be fair , can't really say anything about heaven and hell because some part of me believes that whatever you are truly thinking about becomes your reality. So for the people who is sure they are going to hell that may be the case.
but on principle i do no think there is any judgement on your life other than your own.
So i wouldn't say i believe in them , no... but i do think there is a possibility those places exist..

Re-Incarnation

This one is more about *time for me than anything else

because i think that death is just a blip in the time space continuum.
Like a tree never really dies or is born , because it's just forms into something else.
The rule in science, that no energy can be created it just changes.

AND i think the essence of a person  is what makes them 'a person' although the body is which we express that essence to.
SO i think that if after some time in that body , the essence get's stronger.

AND let's say you die at 89, then you've spent a fair amount of 'experiences'

( another way of measuring time is ; Measuring it by how many things you've done - i like to count happy things , and things that make me grow as a person.)

Knowing that we have effects on the world around us ,
we can see that we emit some kind of energy ,
Although that's more to do with WHY being a human is so cool.

(Because we get to choose what we emit.  )

Anyway .. so you have all these experiences and the body is just an expression of that essence.

Just like there are many types of plants and animals that have their own characteristics and then deeper personalities for each 'individual' ... that is a slightly different  expression of the 'same thing' (collection / species ).
So the children and children's children take a little of each 'individuals' mix and grow it some more.

And in Buddhism *it says that you ARE the next generations..because you don't leave a place until you have learnt the lessons. If one looks at the way humanity has progressed, and where we are now.. we have a lot we can learn...Which is why i know this is one of my 'last times' on earth.
and i've heard some things about how you move together in a group of 'souls' you've been with before.

So what you do in any life , you do to yourself anyway... it makes a lot of sense... it would be a  wonderful way to get to learn things .
You are the teacher you are the master. It resonates with me a lot.
Because i can see certain cycles in my life of specific events that taught me things.

That,  and my godmother told me a story of when i as 4 and showed her a quill and proceeded to show her how it worked and told her all about it..i don't think i knew about quills that much then.. that's before i recall reading properly...
i ALSO happen to be a good writer.


I have also met people who share 'lives' with me.  (and i've never seen so much with another person as i have seen with my 'Boyfriend'.)
It works like this. * One of us says something that we 'daydream' or feel so strongly towards, it's your intuition talking so it's good to listen. Then we compare what we feel when we think of that thing.. and more often then not and with certain details we'll both have the same so it's not just 1 of us. *Which makes it a correlation... *

I like to look at my life and events like that deeply. Because there seems to always be a 'plot twist' or some revelation i didn't know existed.

So all in all* i believe you enter and exit bodies , but see all the lives as 1 life , not as separate lives.
The lives are more of a segment, or a stage , or a blip and death is the dash...
......however you wanna call yin and yang.

But as we saw earlier , all energy only changes , so technically it's the same thing.

Which goes into the detail of how you can be yourself , what seems like 'more than once'.

All energy is itself - expressing itself , in different forms.

Much like the variety of species , solar systems , cells , cell organs... atoms , protons, quarks..

Although i will say this , i am still thinking / reading / learning about the nature of the death period

i often understand these things through looking at the cycles in my body as a start point.

But i prefer to focus on life , since i am quite young and i know i have some more of the road ahead of me , so i like to contemplate it from time to time
because even though we get to choose things,
there is a certain movement that is not ours to an extent.
I think you can, in a way prolong life... eating well.. thinking happily... but that is an event that WILL happen .

That is a certainty.. in a universe so full of * 'chance AND *variety'.... to *have a certainty that big...well that's *pretty interesting.

Life though , life has i feel , a purposeful force.
Choice is the pretty awesome thing. ( and you asked me a  big question , i hope this answered it.. if you need more info or need me to clarify anything tell me  , hey it's really nice talking to you Jade! Even though Facebook  sometime is kinda a bad thing i feel.... it let's us do this ... the internet is an interesting place.. what do you think of it?) Love xox

LET the willows blow soft
inside me, by the lake yonder i sit
eager to stay

         Quiet refuge by the waters edge
sunlight , pouring yellow onto the planet
that breathes
                         It itches the
dream at my right hand side , it itches tapping at my mind , myself calling out to me , beckoning -
Let be the worries of the world , let be your destiny or
fate , let be your presumptions let be the tests of the universe , let be , all is ease , seeds now sprout new growth
               LET BE and all shall yield.

the exit is in reverse , the starting of the verse, the myth , the beat the silent snare,

paat at……paat at………..familiar waves , notions of toils

un wound to find nothing but a wonder.

But a wonder, a wondering, wondering star

far from home yet not so far,

close enough to feel, footsteps arrive at dawn,

forlorn sits the shaman,

that’s where we are we are the wondering star

the traveling star whilst sitting down.
Perpetual movement..

TO FEEL THE WONDER IS THE WONDER FOR FREE

yet it seems that in these lives..
THERE IS NOTHING THAT IS THERE ... all but perceptions , perceptive chance that may so happen to cross , with yours or the ants or the bees


THERE IS  NO THING THAT is free,
but there is exchange.

Tin ,
straw ,
flesh.

mineral ,
plant ,
animal.

beings - creating - because that is what they like to do,

know the pact
that one makes
  creation = destruction.

The choosing...
upgrading,
aware,
to the magnificence of their power , yet grounded enough to not be lured ,
..................................bye said ego. Hello said Ego.

Everything we do now effects the next 7 generations ,
choose wisely.
With wisdom comes great responsibility
if one chooses
to uses

their wisdom wisely.

Music in thai , words rein and rain from my unassuming lips, so rarely do i sing in my mother tongue, sounds like honey to me.
poet am i , i can not write nor read the sounds fully, yet sing with such ease :)


Falling into the cloud river once again , although a little more windy i would say.
Carved with ravines and canyons ,
wind and earth meeting together by the water.
true trickster smiles wink in the fading daylight.

apple butter is my jam.
Fir tree
seeking rain shelter ,

edit photo , write poem , draw or paint  every day . Ritual meditation . Doing what creates love,

beings - creating - because that is what they like to do,

mineral ,
plant ,
animal

Tin ,
straw ,
flesh.

Sojourn at the hinterlands of a fog casket
awoken to be suffocated
put to sleep        to dream
within a dream                         the nightmare of a mother's fear

depression is so easy to slink in
so wary of all those palpable sins
like being yourself -

awoken to be suffocated
put to sleep      to dream
with a dream                           the nightmare of a mother's fear
where pink haired ladies
talk about my dissonance

within a dream about the nightmare of my mothers
self punishment -

for birthing me
questioning                if it was the right decision

if I          was born to suffer
this fate

so i wake                  in the land of dead people
who's limbs fall apart
as they're names are called out by the concierge

to my voice as whisper
to my courage bubbling underneath
a mother fearful of coming close
forgiveness is a blessing
and the tears flow

                       out of the eyes of a child onto the cheeks of a woman
who's life was molested by other peoples sanctions
a woman who stood tall for the voice of others    children and elders
who encouraged chance meetings to be themselves via magazine clippings
and a mother afraid to come close
and a child still living the actions of a ghost                 looming at her with wide eyed slanders of " you ****** up , you *******
you **** up at everything"

it's difficult to look               it's like watching someone be strung up
naked
tied to posts
and the spaces between their fingers sliced
their yoni sliced
their ******* sliced
their heart beating wide eyed screaming
silenced.

My mother
who birthed me
whom i respect
for all of her showings
no matter how ****** up

strung up
and the vision is blinding.
and we're both crying
but i don't tell her
because it's lunch time
and she's ****** up again.

Reading the air , salt hanging on the lips of this breeze
current spray travels inland          far beyond beach dunes
rolling in
with the edge of a storm breeze and the unmistakable smell of
almost-ready-to-fall rain.

sweeping stories of deserts once visited, textured sand clinging---

telling the tale signs of weather movements
not yet visible upon horizons vision---

whispering soft respite in dank humid moments
a storm is hours away from breaking,
leaving in the same way whispers come,
quietly and unlikely to be repeated.

Then I
myself
create the slightest of particle movements
as I stride and sit
grin and ****.

Wrapping around me, scent of night
unheated air, falling coolness

I ignore the dinner party and breathe
a current spray, far from the beach dunes     kissing my olfactory system
almost-ready-to-fall rain's unmistakable scent
dressing me in anticipation

wisdom of these tides
sing deep within me
as the salt hangs on my lips
I read the air.

Reading the air , salt hanging on the lips of this breeze
current spray travels inland          far beyond beach dunes
rolling in
with the edge of a storm breeze and the unmistakable smell of
almost-ready-to-fall rain.

We have this notion that time is rigid
that time is a solo tick of a clock's second hand
or mearly the grain dropped into the hourglasses bottom

that the day needs to be broken down
that the night slips on by the hours escape us as we escape to lands of mystery and fog

but sometimes i love this about humans , i love that we like things neat and tidy ,

we're like ants - collecting for the colony although we seem to have lost the way back to the community centre

we're taking all we've found and putting it away in groups of 2 and 3 and 4 expecting to build hives that can outlast a rainstorm.

But here's the funny thing ,

sometimes i live in 3000 years past future present

and this confuses some people
who still believe that time is liner.

Once more i would like to point out the sorry truth that , whomever controlled the time -
would control us all

now who sets the clocks back??

Not me....


So i've set all mine forwards
some would call me a hoarder but i think i'm just taking back what is rightfully mine...

Old days of the work
come to me now
aid me in my wisdom
call me to my work once more
touch me with your light
may i integrate into myself the harvest
and may i plant for the winter
may i share of the bounty
the fullness of nothing
the emptiness of everything
may i offer the waters
and in turn be quenched.

Lost lives, lost in living hells
reminders everyday of the scars that tell
more than words could speak
just tips of icebergs, oh.. if only they could talk...

i, - salute the wounded healers-
only taughts to heals, because they began
by helaing themsleves.
and moving on - being bitter, wordless spits of grain in lips
and being an aching hearts so wide one would think they would die at any moment

and yet - there -  


there is solace

in the slowly ebbing  pain....day by day the cracks begin to tear...
and brightness burst forth - and hey , that may, take years moments , heartbeats stretching on
for the fallen undone,

and the breathless in San Diago
and the countless in New Delhi ,

and the scores and cores in the Congo

i salute all those still in the fight -
no matter how.

I don't want the future obsession
it's an illness, a dis-ease of the soul !
I want the intimacy of now, to play the cards still in my hand!
The cosy nook of this moment is plenty, an offering from on high!

So here was the crux -
              in my silent way
I envied my sister  
The-Would-Be-Me
for being able to allow the future to
come as it would.
Until I became her.

I live the life of moments, delicate like a hummingbirds wings
with eyes they look perpetual,

I exist as an enigma of spirit, this world is so harsh
these ways of living so cutting
in defense
calling on my warrior is not always the best course of action
sometimes it's my lover that must be the witness to the moment.

If I wasn't so old, I'd struggle to exist under the weight of earth even more so
the gravity of actions is mighty
the tipping scale is small

To support a being who sees with the eyes of spirit
in a world led by the blind
takes a wicked team

for them, I am so truly grateful
all those corporeal or otherwise
my love for you
is deep and vast

We blaze this trail together -
What would the accomplishment be if I were to cross the line alone?

Vitamin D from sunlight is first registered in your eyes, so if you wear sunglasses know that you deny your body of vital love.

I suppose my element is fire , the way the sun and i communicate with cloud patterns we play a game of precision.

I suppose my element is air , the way a breeze and i blow in tangent, wrapping ourselves in each others spiral patterns

The birth of a star shedding light in the dark. But there is nothing more beautiful than death, for it is the passage way for birth. Just as all the elements thrown out allow new life to be born so does the death of a loved one, for it is their legacy that allows us to build from their wisdom and from their stories they feed us and nourish us. Just as the dead fox feeds the maggots and the maggots feed the birds and the birds feed the fox.
After all in the middle of death , there is the last wish. dEATh.