it’s true evolution was found not by one but by two
for that is the nature of life anyway -
we use what is on hand to create and solve problems
We acknowledge all in the process.
The people who speak to the trees

It took , and it gives.
But it is a choice.

One ,

life - does go on ,

Two ,

I get what i want

Three ,

He get's what he want's

Four ,
Sunday's are for chillin

Five ,

( u r probs asking why didn't she say , she yet to include all the women out there )

but that's an assumption,  (^^^^^ that is guv. ), that list goes in order of importance..

it's* just numbers* , we've been told, go in that manner ,

whatever -

i've got you this far , now ..

i think i would like to just
document
this moment .

and preserve it - because this golden flower
of a feeling
where nothing , matter and everything hangs in a fine balance and the whole universe just opens and starts to dance , and infinit is no longer a goal but the present space all around
in whatever convex , concave confines you would call these human bodies

keeping us weighed down like lead baloons to the physical world
and - no , we're not from this plane

we ARE from this planet though , but not this dimension either

i rekon,
aliens are exactly - what we are , but in the "future " after
                             we've learnt how to time travel
and we come back ,
                                     and because 'we as earth' 'i.e - the current inhabitants -

AND WE REALISE ! THAT WE HAVE BEEN FOOLED! those,

who are under a dastardly spell,
woven into our minds good and deep - using words and symbols , number and name - anything to rise to that fame.......

Like an oil spill

                        it has swept through our eyes and blinded us from the truth that -.-
there is no such thing as time.

we just made it up

but there are such things as dimensions , we've seen them -  we've seen them crumble away before our very eyes and just exisit in momentary spots of delusions illusions

and the wonderful thing is our creations , effect our physical reality - what we make in our minds , we put out for the world to see , the other illusion is that somehow your mind is this dark foreign space .....YO...


MIND IS FULLY  light !  EVEN the shadows emit some kinda glow....
so vivid !  well , there's magic in there , and poines and stardust and sometimes
if you are very lucky someone will come along
and tell you about all kinds of yum! And play with you - there in the mind's garden
to create everything , materialy

i just, hope , that when we wake up - all of us - then ,

we are ready to face what will be a new dawn , in my eyes - humanity stands on the tip toes of heavens open armed throws or the pits of depths,

- that are diamond encrusted found after the coal has been left for centuries -

We are the those fabled stars...the ones that seem so far away...we ARE MADE UP of the same stuff , now tell me - who do i bow down to...i only give bows of respect. Earning it...

there are no more melodies,

sweeter nor more healing , than the eyes of love's serene face just , all magic and stuff, making me speechless and speech full , with the eyes that over throw ironic nonchalance , in a second and are ready for go up and get em and ready for snuggles in beds
this is the only story i've ever known and (you can not have written it!)

this is my life what i've discovered from my journeys findings..I hope you have your own take....but...what is that i hear you say? ....

....what happened?
Just, started , saying yes.
i guess..

and gradually , and quite elegantly with hindsight , this has been built.


and by tHIS i mean this poem.

pro's
prose ...
heh heh

So i said to him “But can you make me *** and laugh at the same time though? , if you can … well i think i’d burst into flowers or something equally magical…”

he’s very close.

o , i may become a pink daisy

No, there is nothing quite like

the unadulterated scenes of politicians

as they scream,

like children, when lightning flashes.

Playground politics rule

our great nations!

Beware of pickpockets, in our city streets

dark and bleak

no smile shines here,

why have hope when the trade off is fear?

Don’t get me wrong, not everyone is mean

How should i put it…

Some are just keen?

So steal from the rich to give to the poor

refuse to accept

that new passed law

offering free ice-cream, in the House of Commons

be sure to read the sign:

We don’t serve commoners.

beat waves , beach haze

beat drips , in slaves mouths as they thank the rich for their gift of tapped water

and tapped shoes on tapping feet dancing not to entertain but to save their skins from narrow , harrow mishap and they know , if they make it out of there alive they’ll never go back

not now , not ever.

not now , never .

not now .


not now ...
not now...

not now....
then when?...

when , were they,  there
and where were they there..

who  - . ? (owls)

who sat upon drinking mats and dancing streets who ate with their shoes at their feet?
who licked up their milk , who danced with starlight naked with no more gilt then guilt
and shame to beneficiours name and thankful legend doth save mankinds *** - once again.

and you tell me i shouldn’t be writing stories and tales
and bed time nightmares
wait till i get dark -

MOON.

is the name.  winks

i am not the moon , no ,  but i am a faucet of moon’s taste and moon’s style her failures and her virtues , if it’s easier for you , i am moon personified...

hovers slightly

i once read somewhere - love is  metaphysical gravity -

i’ve never heard anything more scientifically accurate.

Lips lock - the poppers drop
one by one , zip slide ,
electric skin , carnvicours sins - some would deem un worldly
well - i wouldn’t put it past yourself
it’s only in the shadows of days death ,

the night time arena
many a metaphysical friend and maybe a few foes

Life , knows....

Maybe that’s who we should start with eh , noob?

Life? His house is over there.

Take my hand -

See , down below - we have the lands of El Salvador

and here , is Papua ,

Look Svalbard....and the elves are having a party...

*Dive bombs to Svalbards shores ....the mountain white drenched in sipping brews the elves rest in woodland - night begins to wrap the company in shivers and the light flickers out * - shh say’s moon - it’s almost time -

the last full moon of summer , is rising.

from beyond the frozen lake shores where all lay still sat the moon’s crest her light before her self
up on the shelf of mountain lip ,


and with grace like no other - the orb slowly began to glow green


and the thunderstorm no one had seen cracked lightning behind , called up by norse winds and norse tides.

The elves looked upon the tree and a single blossom falls,

touches the floor and blinds them all in bright light.

END CHAPTER -

A note: Notice what feeling, if any, arise when reading the writing in-between the stars, let it breathe and keep that feeling or no feeling until a new one arises. - Saeng-Fah *

the tickling smile that only ever , ever appears on the corner of lips * Don’t lose your head , we’re all mad in here.

Sumptuously deliciously mad.

* the last , late rainstorm, unexpected, a long time after the rainy season had ended *  The signs are just so queer…like nothing you’ve imagined,

* the slight intrigue that feels familiar * before, it had seemed that there was no tomorrow or yesterday…* the look …well it’s almost too good to be true, because there isin’t.

Swimming in the water all you can do is float. There is no time to build to that point where there is acceptance, like the time right now. That all we have is time, all we create, all we collide into is the time we make.

creepy guy, standing at the street corner, writing rhymes under the street lamp, who you thought was an ax murderer as you walked by* All we spiral out of makes more, of whatever we built time with last time that’s fo sho!!

dips his hat at you as you pass by, the night all of a sudden get’s serious but stop making it and start feeling it, well then…

* the sigh of the wind ripples a stalk of wheat, where a ladybird sits, she has 16 spots, all around her spreads a field of yellow wheat ablaze in the afternoon sunlight. Under the Oak tree sits the french boy from downtown Paris, he softly strums the guitar as he hears the drumbeat. Beyond the tree lies the open Savannah, the planes where we run wild, where we run free, two by two, i’ll be the crow or will you be the fox? Never mind dear, we’ll be a mixture of the two. Slip in and out of each others forms. I don’t even know who’s who anymore, or where i put that last potion…ahh which one was it?….ahh After several hours of delay , and drinking coffee from the stand where there was a guy who smelt like tacos and several types of salsa, our gate was finally opened it was the smoke from the caterpillars lips….

Now we’ve arrived here, we may as well just stay… It’s the *cough scenic route. *cough

You darken light
so shine bright

oxymoron's juxtapositions finding oneself in pondering situations
humor in each step , fairy lights guide the path less traveled
feeling the peace pieces fit together
jigsaws of unabridged meaning

simply seething with the intimate feeling of moonlight
hopping from idea to idea to thought to thought

love's boundaries are naught and love's hugs are many
loves kisses flow plentiful
indigo rivers on far off archipelagos snake into brown rivers flows mixing merging
the same happens in the soul

culminations and starters
Pudding just a little while after

A lot around , a lot within , a lot in addition to the whimsical nature of life's flight of fancy
floating feather drops.

Sheep sneeze
bagpipes play on the soft west breeze, there are clouds out at sea but the sun is ripe on me

it's the laughter
of nature that is my always medicine
the mystery is solace,

drop that armor you ain't going no where
sheath that sword ain't fighting no one
drop that fear all you doin is holding onto trouble

when the world's issues hang heavy on the brow
give em a rest
they'll be there when you come back.

A sunshine dappled moment
they going , they coming

worry ain't no friend of no one
but disease and ill health,
yo mama tryna help you out with those words
"write so people will understand , there's no point otherwise"

just take em real nice right there, take em real kind.

Timetabled automobiles
run to deliver the places
much like ****** functions
so the city operates

Many a face is graced in these moving shared spaces

a rareity in the city
where we move indoors to be nimble and warm
when the weather is adorned with low hung clouds or sometimes bright clear days that come from mornings of mist and grey minded melenchony damp.

Turtle - by the name Horace
what some would call a black boy
or something but i’ve never seen a thing so foolish -

the blackness
if one would read between the lines to the connottions of what race is  
,

is mearly the opposite to the void

brimming to the full

i’m not sure if either is better
since i’m of mixed origin ,but to be honest ,

what would the fullness be in if it was not the void ( ? )

This example is everywhere
the human body
the planets that hang in the stars emptiness
or even on the macro cosmic scale

Well , well , well - the universe does it again

playing games
with mind made names
and simple syncronicites
say an awful lot

i don’t really - really - really - really - really - (hate=strongly dislike) may things
but here are a few

People who know things , that will help other people but don’t say it and instead belittle them because that’s an easier way to fuel their own self worth because somthing proberbly happned in their life that ****** them up because i was one of those people and i hated myself for it , i hated myself for not being skinny and caring what other people think , and being this or that does it matter any more? is that not that?
Lucozade


Somethings i really- really-really-really-really (love= strongly love)

Bagels with peanut butter and honey and raspberries
friends.

Fleeting expressions culminate
in rich tapestries given a chance,
you , tripped over my shoe.
I , touched your arm
We tumbled into conversation , we tumbled out of bed , we tumbled in emotion
history unsaid

Cultures with the same mind , how we are running the game
Tourists who go by the same name a single sigh when words escape our minds

Reeling as the waves roll in.
In ,
In,
In,
The tide is coming out again , we  can walk across the quicksands with the chartered marks written by the corrosive tides , i'd whisper this to you , but there is no distance

Space but an illusion

Respect
for the mother and fathers who build this playground for us to roam ,
respect for the floating flowers sweet seed sprouting into blossoms tree
respect for the love of self - selflessly
respect for the helpers helplessly
respect for the boundaries

rises climatic waves crash onto soft shore
breakfast on the patio
what could one ask for more
then a wake up call without using a phone

last night's revelries spill over into today's serenity
sacred ground
sacred sounds
early bird gets the worm they say

share the love
spread the love , doctors healers
love knows no bounds
but seeks to reach each tip of wing in illuminated golden heart seen on first meeting
glows the fireflies
who light up the night time so bright
nor the wonderlusting princesses moving in her own skin with so much filling to the brim
overspilling with kisses and loves
spilt beers and american dreams turn to dust on the desert plains
and the silken haze hangs low across the city
bike riding race styling high flying
we already die to live to give
we already sing to the silent tunes of water droplets
and bird calls
tree's sigh in daylight delight and fight no one,  not even the night for ...


the tree's photosynthesise by moonlight
leaves drink in the cool wise light and give off dreams of softly fading starlight
and laughing at Jamican tour guides....*exucse me while i light my spliff....har har har har.....and over here is the kitchen...

well it must look kinda strange
someone is suddenly without name

steps up to you and hands you a photograph and says that you are wonderful
but i know he does it better than i could
so much better

there's nothing like this is there?
nothing on this planet that could satisfy us we want to roam the stars

with loves at heart
loves heart at hand

good thing someone answered the phone !

that can change everything ....!!!

Ahhh,  but,
it's simple pleasures , that rejuvenate life's rough weather patches

and it's interesting how animosity turns from curiosity to real world , pilgrams
and biblical stories turned hindu prophecies and karmic debts paid in full .


of stories unwinding, to fantasies tidings -
tidal whirlpools of old age relinquishment
from trapped in butterfly effect
movements
and conjoined twins of several natures
EARTH , AIR, FIRE , WATER AND EATHER.

there seems to be no end to the twin connections -
but a very fine line between earth and heaven

a very fine tune between love and lust
a very fine sand dune's shapeful curve between trust and lack luster half hearted , half arsed apathy.

it seems that there are no more fruits in edens dens , then zen masters at hand to help us through the din try not to get those dijins in your ears but let them pass freely - knowing you are safe from fear.

everyone has their own soul mate
but some have mates

i  tell ya

this is set to be a pretty interesting venture ,
to discover and adventure
across plains of realization ,
with the wind of uncomplicated, honest , one love
as the sail
and i hail a taxi

to the next borderline and i know we'll be making it in time and style

and keepin it all holy
all the whilst

we walk on sacred ground

we walk on sacred ground

we are sacred ground.

Say, heart, that was a shock

that was a shock to the system that got nervous

some never recover but we do, we can , we are -

Say, heart... that was unexpected and violent
air plane crashes and dead body smells
sandalwood roses and milk sweets

Say, Heart
that was a new kind of feeling
England in the countryside and hedgehogs squished to pavements
Swimming after fogged up bus rides
and Bob Marley in the white Golf.

Say, Heart that was pretty cool
watching the London Eye go up on telly
then seeing it outside
then a school with swapsies and teachers checking to see if you ate
and a sister waiting in the chair next to me

Say, Heart
11 schools later
aren't you glad we saw them all?

Say, Heart
how many times did we crack before we broke open?
and I whispered that we'd be ok as long as we kept moving
and now we know that clinging to moments is what makes the pain worse..

Say, Heart
I feel you beating now after so many times searching for a pulse and finding something else there instead.

the oozing of generational lies
and slaps that turned green
along with the screams and I feel that we are all screaming
we are all screaming
silently
into the blankets on frosty january morns or into our 10th cup of tea to drown out the cold

into our tiger teddybears or elephants stiched in pink,
perhaps it'll be our CD's that reminded us of home, when we're on a far off continent where pain lurks around us and the children are crying at the top of the stairs
and kidney failure is just round the corner but how could we know?

That glass shower doors were yet to be smashed and police cars were yet to have left and guitars were yet to have been bartered
your love for a 6 stringed instrument that is a sacred therapy

And Say,
Heart
we were told that staying silent was proper
and the sound of our voice too loud

children should be seen and not heard
emotions are weak and blood or lust is front page news


Say, Heart what do you make of that?
No wonder those eyes are twitching just slightly ,
and the nervous system never really calmed down,
the setting of the perfect storm
to rain mystic myriads of inner dimensional travel
because yes, ultimetly it's my greatest teacher

but
trauma doesn't just fade.

Trauma doesn't just fade.

Trauma doesn't just fade
until we let it, wadda say heart?


Say it Heart....
Say it Heart....
let it out, sweet, dear Heart..
Say it..... Heart.

Like continents moving the skin off from over me , slowly..
deliberately           with great force on the rest of my being ,
each aspect of myself emerges anew
from the cocoon like first layer of childhood ,

i see myself spiral from the snakeskin left on the floor

a forge is in it’s place

of molten liquid energy running along my meridians.
Serenading every judgement of another character with love shine ,
fresh from the gardens of mine
       that bathe
by the sea air
in my root chakra layer... mingles ,
with the heart echo arrow
i send it with.  

Known; that the judgements of others are a side product of judgement of self.
Be it , through the eyes of a hopeful parent or a tired teacher , a pig or a nit.... an angel or specter himself -
None equal as true, to the eyes i see through
on the matter my being is composed of.

Integrating stillness in my vivacious bones , conscious movements flow , stabilizing the unknown into the known , materializing the un-materialized subconscious realm.

Moving through visible reality shifts and mind rifts , exploring

the astral world around me
whilst moving through physical boundaries of borders
Developing organs in my subtle body .

Manifesting my foundations for stamina.
What a joy it is to live from the heart.

It seems that i return to places and faces
i once saw with different eyes to see the different ways of seeing
London , Krungtheap seem almost alien upon return
from another land
This , i suspect is the essence of travel , slow paces relaxation is the task , is the quest
on , on  , on leaving imprints of emotion in every place
picking up new ways of feeling of believing , of hearing

shedding , malting , unraveling - traveling whilst sitting still with those loves, found in the dimmest of dim , those who shed light on the opaque din that enveloped the ears and melted wax into the drums to clear out the cobwebs of old webs left undone who move in the physical realms
touchdown , landing
meet me at the place where we met , this vibration calls me without a doubt to your home , to your house where i'll turn up at the door with a bottle of wine

you can choose where we dine !

Emptiness is full
frothing at the edges
come bowls of sea foamed , rich tone
of wave
vibrations

undulating shores
of invisible islands , that form in the space around the music.

Materializing are the friendships of harmony -

close knit fantasies
ring out in each layer
a mystical magical movement - vibration

emanating for all to share

dive deep

into the domains  of the  wordless , formless

we need only rocks and butternut squash
daylight mellowtime
cold wind change snap brisk
  fog mouth.

   The cities ******* cling to the shoreline
lake of ontario.
      share tea , share kiss
peace yum day break activity
meditation on stillness
stones stacked seamless .
    
   Before a powerful night , of music sung with joy in note,
friend snuggles -
      smoke lips -       crying - mercy
vision ascension.
                Body pulsating in your hand.

   Pancake quinoa breakfast , maple syrup hotchocolate .

Later to lentil soup with french bread and brie cheese , grapes  
Reading park time medicine cards
      Shaman training , initiating 46 yr old lady to her first joint under the swell of almost full moon gleam.
i dance the whirling dervish round the baseball pitch , extend my legs in ballet-tai-chi whirl. Find my footing in
the lightning flash sky
   nestle and snuggle more with friends.

To midnight snack of orange , ginger zest cookies with sunshine and peace printed on , peppermint tea and
a slight fondling shower.

     New music runabout
talkin bout american deeds ,our own self , our progression and human dissociation from animal instinct
    
Be love.

POWER in HEARTBEATS.

Today i woke up in an old bed ,
where i spent last winter in meditation -

after having went to summer party
salad mountians and a million and one stand of food
candyfloss , fair ground ride , face painting , a band , drinks everywhere in buckets with sun block attatched to it even though it was kinda cloudy but there were nice clouds

and best - some people roaming about with a sunflower cut out taking polaroid pictures

and in them there is someone holding the sun.

(haha)

What a lot has happened today..
hmm .. i collected some old things , ate a routine breakfast of bagels and home made plum jam , with the addition of a coffee -

the subtle changes even in a few months ranges from old place to new  old place

that is the distilled essence of travel and indeed a marker of journey's  progression

return to an old place - to see the new, no matter how small -
in a place one thought devoid of any new textures ,

smells sights sounds and emotions

yet, yet -  here is something new .


I saw an old friend
several in fact .

Family -

Families.

And then i sat down to write for a bit and drank some vanilla chai tea.
and listened to some good music and draw a little.

and that was snapshot of day snapshot of day 78739101-1

END ARCHIVE:

Before we begin let us begin with the silly name tags we've all been given
I'm Hank Fletcher and you'll be Roger Malore.

Ride up
ride up ! Come collect your coat buckets
let's dance a merry boogie under the sinking sun
I'll wear purple dancing shoes so you'll spot me in the crowd and leave the silver wear at home please darling,
I haven't a pocket to spare for all of your loose change
or all of your first change or last change no long change either
I'll take 3 fingers of radical change though
and have seven chasers of rabbits down holes
and wouldn't you know
I don't think we'd stop even if we could
we've only got goats of friendship on leopards nooses down by the ally
did I mention you've got a friend in me?
yes,
please
he can't stay any longer he's eaten up all of my pastries and done a huge mural of the french revolution in the bathroom
I can't stand the sight of ****** man ***** as I try to poo
god lord, would you believe he's done all the horses as well.

Now, now, **** it in
we'll never catch a break if you just give out frankincense every time you find a **** attractive.

I have information channeling in from the past through my DNA
i am an open portal to receive the teachings of ancient tantric left hand paths ,
my mother accepted her teaching from an aged midwife with no daughter , she taught her the power of intuition and the secret ways to move between realms without being detected

And this teaching is so secret that only now do i see the lessons,
She wove them into games we played and how she dressed herself , held herself
I run quickly with the tumbling lessons falling out of pasts giant lips painted in the sunset sky ,
i can read the clouds for messages , they never fail , the moon too sends her cool wisdom
i can read people quickly and see through to their highest self , but it takes energy so i must cultivate myself

i am a garden and flowers burst through my skin and out from behind my eyes wild roses grow , to fall into the pit of my stomach and be burnt by the roaring sun inside
after a while the alchemical process subsides and i distill the free magic scent
from which i add a whiff or two to my wrists before i leave home , this is a protection shield of the highest order

take heed if these words talk to your soul , because then you will know i have a message to deliver

The collision of two planes will destroy both ( metaphysically) giving rise to a merged existence that holds qualities of each parent,
yet,
totally new aspects from our current mentalities , thus the cycle can only be compleated when we are ready , each one will find their own turn and preahps a path they would do well to learn is the path of the soul , mind and body

The collapse of ridged belief systems and debt binders ( physically) will mark the border lines , the doldrums where the weak are prayed upon like a pastor dishing out blessings to the congregation

And my friend , in amongst the mess there will be those who would do well to lead you astray , hold fast , as long as you know your own heart the ripples will only fuel you instead of decay

We are speeding up to convergence , can you feel it?

it’s ok not to live UP to ALL the weighty labels forcefully pinned to you - heck maybe you should just cruise at mid altitude level until you decide you wanna take a dive in the self created oceans....

DON'T STICK YOUR NOSE INTO PEOPLES BUSINESS, JUST KEEP referencing The Matrix. While simultaneously revealing it - more Dharma , less drama is my motto.

Whoever told you , you just had 2 eyes , 2 ears , 2 mouths , 2 noses ? They were lacking vision. Look for yourself.

Ask yourself this also...

have you seen the chambers of your darkest thoughts?
If you have not, why not.

And if you have , how was it?

Expect better than the daily thoughts of dissections and ******

try going beyond to see how evil you really can be....
then ,

try seeing how heavenly you can think...

it's a fine line between tragedy and comedy.

Don't lose your heads now , lovelies ...

no ying without yang as the old'uns would say.

no ying , without yang....

BE patient for you were once like him.
Young, joyous and dead inside. Let your frustrations melt into compassion for the journey he is embarking on. Your patience is a gift, hard earned , from toiling the same fields he has yet to sow. His wisdom is in it’s nubile stages where your compassion may water those seeds no end.

Love is your guide, is love not your guide?

Laughter is your superpower , is laughter not your superpower?

Fun is the cosmos, is it not Fun?

Grief is real , so let it through -

Least it turns to anger and eats you whilst you are still living....
on   and on   and on

Be patient for you were once like him.
Be patient for you are not him, he is not you.

Life doesn't always work on the currency of hope.

Be patient for the same fields you have yet to sow
ones you don't even know,
already bloom and fruit, seed and disperse
over on his land called a body.

You are a branched, crooked tree,
and this is the way we exist,
when we are ourselves.

Unknowable until the moment,
powerful beyond our dreaming,

bring yourself back in,
to the land that is your eyeballs and knees,

soft
and slow
and gentle.

From the ***** of my * seeing chair*  emerges the womb of darkness
i offer a prayer in good faith to the writers and the play rights and the authors and the artists
who have come undone,

This is not a love song but, an improvization of lyrical ******* and beat making sensation ,
tingle dance and flair , wave the flag , steer this ship on home ...... we are on an island of dreams
floating like their ain't no inbetween , and we sleep and we care and we take shifts -  and for the pack and for the tribe and for the people under the nights sky ............... this is the music after midnight , after Luna's caress are there written all over with sols liquid golden flare -
to fall unto us , the lucky pair who just so happens to be the golden pair
strictly speaking they're actually birds
but taken shape as human form
it's an odd one i know but still
they soar like them

higher than kites that fly in kite season.


dopple gangers

we're entering mysterious
mystic dimensions now

i see boggots on the horizon

moon shield is up

dip the rigger

i smelt a thief a couple days ago

i woke up with a inkling

not sure yet

still

gotta think of things

if you can sleep whilst you are awake well then

well then

well then

night vision
is real

dragons are real
nagas are raw
did you think i said ******

in all those rap songs i wrote?

we are very pleased that so many of you have answered your calls
but it's gunna take a miracle
to tip the scales

i'm lady justice

and he is the executioner

he's ice cold

i'm hot as you like

i'd like you all to remeber one key thing

i don't exist

you cnnot **** me

but i AM the security

welcome to EARTH

we have delivers everyday from everywhere gotta bless and make sure that you fly safe

yOU MADE THE BABIES CRY

YOU MADE MY BABY CRY


I TOLD YOU DO NO MORE


NO MORE
WE HAVE SENT MULTIPLE WARNINGS


WHO EVER

DIS RESEPECTS THE AREA

WILL BE ANSWERING TO WHAT SOME MAY CALL KARMA

but i am the time keeper
and we have everyone as long as they will - it themselves


Hard 'work' pays off

interchangable tides

that's how you mesure time in jupiter - in songs
explores of the lost ark

so much to see
yet time is kind...
ye wish be true
truth so guides the compassionate compass
to rightful
ways

floating faces


lit with the bright moons in each other's eyes

moons of venus , of saturn , of Galatic -  intersection number 5

I met a man ,
with ******* bags in two hands,
and a shirt that says -

'join the conversation'

i ask for a photograph..what spills forth is
a torrent of pent up pain , of tears and a shaky smile ,

i tell him, you've got this far , you've met me , you didn't think that would happen today...
and i tell him , i hope that some good luck comes his way ,

i hope that something changes to make his life happier , he says he'll wait for me
i say i won't be back , i am a one time listener
he says people see him as not human
i say people are strange , he says as soon as they are rich they look at me with distaste
i can feel the bitterness on his lips ,

i say that these people can not be happy
he says but they have it all

i say but they have no happiness sitting in traffic in their BMW , at least you have your thoughts
he says his penny's worth on how he sees society

this man is a philosopher .

i walk away humbled , i hope i left him with the thought that there is light yet..

Consciously curating the thoughts that stream through
offering a space in mind , working the mind
not just a block of damp cheese soaking up the leftover gruel but a fine fine piece of raw chocolate sweetened a tad by maple syrup and dotted with raspberries

that's me allright.
No matter the folly
It's time to rise and shine
Self consciousness really doesn't suit me
I know I got a few bruises but and I'd rather be amused than some kind of fanatic muse to a ***** artist any day
Humor is the hotline to Unconditioned Love Centers .

Snapping and projecting at other people is really lame self-defense because i'm picking fights with these tactics,
exaggerating anthills with this mindset
and digging graves using two left shoes with this clouded vision
from which
ultimately
I'll have to climb out of
because I'm not dead and no one was attacking me in the first place.

Why is it so difficult to be honest with myself when I'm faced with an error in my judgement or an unhealthy way of life is beguiling me to stay on tap?

Ignorance of Inner life, Inner worlds and Inner vision.
Got me trippin at ego's palace , high on self-pity
Drunk and dizzy on sickly sweet aggression.  

It's a scandal that these spaces of inner lands are vastly ignored as children and youth, blindly wondering the world           confused
with a rhythm that is skewed
because I know more about the gossip of the evening news
when really, this is      where the treasure is, this is
where the wisdom rests
this is where the magic lives!
All inside my beating chest, burrowed back beneath my eyes
somewhere where the 5 senses would be throughly surprised
accessed through quiet stillness or ecstatic joy
known to many as chills along the spine or the tingles of goose bump whispers
access to dimensions unfathomed
all waiting
for the space to become

realized , actualized and known.

I've realized, i'm a seasoned traveller through these Inner pathways and I've been holding myself back for fear I'm not beautiful enough
but
You know, if I hang around and wait for all you lot to catch up or for myself to suddenly be "like everyone else"
I'll never make it back with the goods in time
because
there is something more fun than enjoying depression
it's called not enjoying depression!

Super imposed onto my retina
what array of images nest there

nonchalance and passion
spacial awareness and communication

other places
ethereal.

I just tasted a memory. BANG . slapped me on the tongue like a freight train out of a rip in space and time,

of garlic and peppercorn chicken with jasmine rice , a clear broth and fresh cucumbers, a wedge of lime and chrysanthemum tea.

oh .. my mouth  , how could you spring this on me .. when i'm so far from the motherland...

then they come thick and fast -

thai iced tea , thai iced coco , thai iced coffee , thai lime soda ..

papaya salad with sticky rice , Mango and coconut sticky rice , Roti with condensed milk and banana , coconut ice cream in a white bread bun with coconut sticky rice and peanuts, fresh fruits of rambutan and mangosteen for 30 baht a kilo......oh.....oh...who could forget the fried flat noodles , or the fried pastry's called explosion *****..... oh... oh my

heart..... my heart...... my stomach... calls out to you , oh glorious green curry with roti , morning congee with little pork ***** and soy sauce..... come to me my dumpling and noodles let me lick the chillies and sugar off my lips , may i taste once more

the conception of such marvelous treats , unfathomable to the western palate , little sweet corn and flour discs cooked on a special cooker over a real fire...dried squid sold on the back of a bicycle , fried garlic with sticky rice , a pink soup !

I just had a taste memory
****.

It would seem the world has quietly fit the puzzle pieces into place over night ,
Like wet washing , crispy and dry from the radiators humming warmth , a satisfactory feeling , a job well done.
There is much beauty to be found on this journey home , moments where the heart is plummeting at a million miles a second , descending from the upper troposphere hurtling down , through clouds whipped up by a storm of ages – waiting for the conclusion – perpetual motion catches me
Elegant design,
Crooked lines make curves,      
Spitting at the throat, holding those words,  
  vision of confusion eats up at the temple of love , bodies are walking shrines.

******* karma on sticky fingers.

silver lines the trees
and gold lines the skies belly

strip of pink azure highlight the docile clouds
as the pine forests rise up all around
a mist devours the eye line
and as it does cloaks my clock
time stops
it doesn't exist here
no more are we bound to the slave driver of 24 hour monotony
but the metronome strikes one
two
three
minus seven

plus twentyfive cupcakes
filled with a blackberry light jam capable of aiding in levitating your shoes
the mist unfurls
and a mountain peak emerges as i run towards the ever rolling stones
that gather no moss
but pass
by the chicken and chip shops to wards
green earthyness
and fresh produce

the cosmos exudes from between our toes
trails of nebula  and spiral arm galaxies
burden the floor with their scented residue
of caramel complexion on mint cream -

expectations fall to the wayside
as the wayside falls to expectations

trust in the infallible,
if the world ( is to me )
saved from the virtuous vindication's of a pacifier society
run to the nearest tree and sway with the blustering breeze !


for the cosmos exudes between our toes
trails of nebula and spiral arm galaxies litter the floor

tell me a tale of who i am ,
yet i know i have not felt myself in my fullness.

for i was born before the cosmos could take her first steps
or the sparkling sun stars could take their first light
i am neither the mountain nor the valley in depth
but within both i am sure to reside ~

out of my womb cascades a waterfall of pixie dust to the glee of several a man .

yet i always had wondered why none stuck around to hear from the well versed band.

I was quite sure the depths that i knew how to love
would create a whirlwind of sorts  
enhanced by the glow of a dark purple blue rose , i’m not quite the type for rose quartz

to spend my love ***** nilly , a silly endeavor indeed
not all can handle the burn as i am

Light Sky ,

a fire filled sky ,

i am the sunrise dripping from the heavens in mellow tones of yellow and pink , i am the solar eclipse, sacred geometry in motion
and by association
i am the high tide moon shine get you drunk off one look sunset in the desert , dark purple blue rose kinda lady.

and you ,

my earth breeze , can whistle up a tune to jam with me , like no one would ever believe..


The cosmos that exudes between our toes
stacked layer upon layer
like a pancake tower
are the places we go to when the world
closes it’s eyes.

To be alive , you need only
check your pulse

but to be awake you need to check your brain waves.

we have LIFE !!!

awoken from slumbers embedded in furs , the Queen of Wands awoke.
Her lands , not here ...

electric tonight - she cruises down the coast
searching for the lost treasures of her chambers
her magicians assistant is only the temporal nature of illusive dragons breath
smoke and mirrors

she finds the land empty but the people all alive

she finds the sea's empty - all the fish in bellies or thrown back to rot

she finds the tree's felled she finds the mirror broken

such is the nature of our planet.

what would one deem had happened if they awoke from the year 1300?
our mere mortal delight squandered on the mirage of delights

it's a maze out there , lovers , watch your backs and watch your fronts...

let compassion be your guide , honesty your light and there is only one place you'll go...

( no one knows , i just follow where the mind's rivers flows)

we're here for the scenery anyway

Alone on a hill stood a tree.


The wind blew in times of change and the heart felt light.
from yonder over there, grew the cherry blossom tree, so wise , so old it’s roots stretched not only down but up , outwards towards the sky. Feeling and receiving the light from the cosmos. It’s wisdom blossomed in each flower and a universe grew nestled amongst the petals. Some touched and shared stories others died before they could even begin and some lay solitary on an outstretched limb. As the flowers fell they mingled with the earth and were consumed again by the tree. This time to be a leaf or some bark. In it’s place grew new flowers , new universes, new worlds , new life , new minds!
And sometimes when the winds were right and the stars and planets aligned the cherry tree would bloom a flower that was a new color. One that was yet to grace these realms. Yet so beautiful and so vibrant is shook the very air around it. This flower was destined to be the seed for a new tree that would in turn produce flowers of such beauty that they too would create universes. The new flower has bloomed and it tangos with the breeze and flutters to the earth. Making music from it’s sighs. A new tree is about to be born. Ready?

Alone on a hill stood a tree.

my mother brings out the rawest form of me
I brush my hair in a soapy tub
we talk about *** , i'm on the verge of tears most the time
about not respecting yourself
being born with the consciousness of 7 dimensions
respecting yourself
some of my words come out in paradoxes that have yet to be resolved
i tell her how my aim is to **** in his mouth one day
she tells me i'm disgusting and we laugh at the ****** hanging up my nose
I brush my hair in a soapy tub
It's 30 degrees outside
We have to turn on the air con
occasionally there is applause
as we talk
about how the best way to make a contribution to this planet is to be yourself , she says she hopes she offered me that wisdom as a child
I brush my hair in a soapy tub
and say that it was mixed - be yourself but then smack ! Don't do that thing. It was confusing.
She says she wasn't conscious , she was confused
she couldn't do it now
like i don't eat meat
certain things fall away when you respect yourself.
My mother brings out the rawest form of me
I brush my hair in a soapy tub

The tree’s don’t sleep at night

they photosynthesize , by moonlight.

Leaves drink in the cool wise light

And give off dreams of softly fading starlight



Whispers of secrets , monthly unfurl

A single blossom falls at new moon

Hurtling to the ground, awake before noon

Ever noticed? The very word has the circle

Curled up in the centre , twice to make sure we remember , two full cups , not one.



Geko’s slip off old skins

And the croaking frog adds to the din

As thunder rolls in

Triggering the dogs bark

Guardian of the stark naked couple

Asleep in their parallel worlds

Together under the umbrella of ambient lighting

Not the natural kind either

But a shameless copy of pure sunlight

That emenates when their bodies collide

On the material plane.



Astral visions lead the way to headquarters

The address? Fax? Phone number?

I’m afraid you’ll have to dial again ,

Unless you’ve meditated on the vibration of emancipation

Then you would already know, you are already there

Doors are open , for those who care to try

No lock on this baby ,

Ain’t no safe to play safe

We bask in our humble glory

Under the shores on undulating tides

Rhythmic pulsations

no where to hide

The emanations come from within,

Without , a shadow of a doubt



There is a war coming , infact we’ve already been fighting for decades

Just like the change of winds, nature knows her stuff

Tip the seeds too soon and you’ll end up with a field full of fluff

But just in time and a harvest with enough to reduce every super market shelf to dust

Even though they already stock that kinda stuff

Clean up on Aisle 4, Aisle 3 , Aisle 2 , Aisle 1

Return the purchase , we’ve discovered the ****

In the cake

And we found the frog in the salad,

At least their habitat is intact

Or did you think I was still talking about the shops?

Sailing in a dhow at sunset after snorkeling off Mafia island, Tanzania.
'
SPILLAGE
The tree’s don’t sleep at night
they photosynthesize , by moonlight.
Leaves drink in the cool wise light
And give off dreams of softly fading starlight

Whispers of secrets , monthly unfurl
A single blossom falls at new moon
Hurtling to the ground, awake before noon
Ever noticed? The very word has the circle
Curled up in the centre , twice to make sure we remember , two full cups , not one.

Geko’s slip off old skins
And the croaking frog adds to the din
As thunder rolls in
Triggering the dogs bark
Guardian of the stark naked couple
Asleep in their parallel worlds
Together under the umbrella of ambient lighting
Not the natural kind either
But a shameless copy of pure sunlight
That emenates when their bodies collide
On the material plane.

Astral visions lead the way to headquarters
The address? Fax? Phone number?
I’m afraid you’ll have to dial again ,
Unless you’ve meditated on the vibration of emancipation
Then you would already know, you are already there
Doors are open , for those who care to try
No lock on this baby ,
Ain’t no safe to play safe
We bask in our humble glory
Under the shores on undulating tides
Rhythmic pulsations
no where to hide
The emanations come from within,
Without , a shadow of a doubt

There is a war coming , infact we’ve already been fighting for decades
Just like the change of winds, nature knows her stuff
Tip the seeds too soon and you’ll end up with a field full of fluff
But just in time and a harvest with enough to reduce every super market shelf to dust
Even though they already stock that kinda stuff
Clean up on Aisle 4, Aisle 3 , Aisle 2 , Aisle 1
Return the purchase , we’ve discovered the ****
In the cake
And we found the frog in the salad,
At least their habitat is intact
Or did you think I was still talking about the shops?

Ok , I’ll change tact
Change of pace.
No , no I will not join the Human Race
Running to where? Why all the running?
From what? To where? From whom , to whom it seems like we run straight to our tombs, without a second glance at perhaps the chance that legs can walk…
Wanna know where I’d rather be?

I want to be on a motorbike heading 70 miles an hour down empty roads
An island paradise , holding the hips of my dearest
To arrive at another home ,
where our friends relax to the forlorne strums of the blues
Tripping on love we depart ,
not without slightly heavy hearts
Peace , friends we’ll see you anon.

Pull into the golden arches , I tell myself ‘I can’t kiss those lips now they’ve touched that burger’
then I remember you’ve been working all day
before you came out to play , I wasn’t up for a dance I was too entranced in my own madness
But. Always the **** , walk up those stairs for me, softly you moan.
I agree in a semi tone. Secrets are meant to be shared,
we quietly told each other of love in the parking lot at 4 am. The pain in your eyes still wakes me up in the middle of thunderstorms.

Awoken to sorrows from the motherland, monsters creep to the door,
peep in the keyhole.
Oh,
I forget,
your door is activated by credit card numbers that spiral from lips of z-list celebrities.
So we’ll waste away the morning in each other arms,
you watch me as I dress. No underwear no less. Put on your bra properly, suddenly you get kinda frosty.
Not far from where we sat to have a Japanese lunch , pretty close to where I walked to meet you for tea , where you held my feet and handed me a phone I left in your brothers car.
Well that’s where we have breakfast coffee and papaya whilst tourists ogle at the dog guard.
Deaf to our calls , luxuriously taking his time. He didn’t find the secret beach either.
Although the sea was good for a float, and to hear the space journey’s musical manifestation
at every crash of every wave, the magnetic pull playing her crooked beat as she bypasses our feet.
Then, there are two nights with two Amsterdam gals , one smoked lucky strikes and had scars across her wrists , the other photographed trees for a living.
Both blonde , both fair , both with their own flair.

Expect the unexpected , beach raves full of people I don’t really want to be with , so we get tequila shots instead
and stand outside a shop selling knock off clothes when the bar needs to shut.

She took a break to the bathroom , we finally let out the kisses we’d been holding in all night,  
until she got back.

Who said we couldn’t control ourselves? Although to be fair, I could feel you reaching for me wayyy back.

Why should we be selfish? Why shouldn’t we? I still went home with you that night, there really was no two ways about it.
I had *** with you, slightly drunken ***, that was by no means gentle, by no means candle lit , by no means rose petals laid out on the bed, infact , if my memory holds true, there were no flowers apart from the ones on my dress.
I’d say you were lucky , but then I cried at home.
So much pent up emotion in that one act.
Enough to propel us in into another night and untold eons beyond, I’m skipping ahead now,
Where we drank red wine on the shoreline , I used the staff bathroom and noticed all the things that could be improved – seemed like work was wearing off on me.
Still, the best part was yet to come, yeah the *** was fun but nothing compared to the games we played. Dress up and salsa ,
mysterious temples
natures tickles leading to giggles at the foolish endevours of two ***** humans., smoke a spliff , enough to unwind the mind to a new point of time. A flash of something I’ve never seen before, nor have yet to be graced with again.
I guess that was divine. Well, wouldn’t you say….
It was about time.

So , am I still talking about the shops?
Or who wore what with kate moss?
No disrespect
she’s adept at her art but i don’t wanna read about boring old farts
Lets hear about the underground collective of conscious minds who are rewinding the clock , who won’t stop ,
warriors.

Well quite frankly

How long have we sat , year after year to be told the same **** and bull story.. my ears, my ears! MY EARS!!! They yearn for the sweet serenade of the truth

behind the crumbling arcade of rigged lottery tickets and games of black jack where the house always wins.
Fortunately we’ve been coming since we were five , we know the cards without seeing the faces, we hold all the jacks and aces, we’ve got time on our side

So…that’s why they are running , finding places to hide.

We’d only be stealing from the house to give to the houseless…
With the tools the house gifted to us…doesn’t it seem ironic?

I laughed until I cried the day I discovered the universe had a sense of humor. A dark , ironic , sarcastic tone that involves  a major chord. Maybe a G or a D.

watching as my mother is dragged up the stairs
by her arms and hair

I get pushed down them for my efforts to try and stop him,
she is shouting screams into the wall -

they go into the bathroom ,
on the other side of the locked door, my blood runs cold.
next to me my siblings and aunt cry.

only screams and whimpers escape under the crack in the door
words of : “please stop”
“help”

      “no - you are hurting me”

he said “ i just wanna talk to you” . then my memory stops until the police are inside the house

Question them both. My mother in the kitchen  -
he is .. i don’t remember , it doesn’t matter....
i sit on the stairs that he painted white not that long ago , where my friends and i had stuck mirrors on each step , making the stairs look like they are floating.. kinda... i do not feel.

The cops stick around for less than 20 mins , arrest my step-dad.
As they take him away , i run upstairs watch from the window. It is a grey london day , they duck his head into the car and drive.

i do not feel.
the downstairs bathroom with stone + aqua tiles , collage of posters , family photos , newspaper clippings, postcards and play pamphlets become’s my hole in the wall for the next few hours. i cry. it is rain, matching the growing darkness outside.
i feel bad for letting the police take him away without saying anything.
i do not feel.

the shouting arguments
heard whilst i try to fall asleep , night
after night had been hiding the extent of unhappiness
of sadness expressed as anger in them both. At the time i could only smell fear
on their breath.
The next time there would be a yellow green bruise on her face and
screams at 4am.

11 year old me
has few memories of home.