numerically life makes sense
sequences trace the path
of least resistance, where solutions
are least tense.
numerically I can see the patterns,
they guide our breaths. I try to rest.

it gets intense. gut tense. tight. breathing helps.
the obvious release.

synch
complete. energy replete only to rise again.
charging with my twin, seeing him. that grin.
charging for the days ahead, the weak bodies
need cures.
synchronicity leads us to Her, she has
it all.
leaving nothing behind, until it too falls.

and as the season changes, and the year
cycles again,
firmament expanding within, vision then begins to cloud
and dampen. the synergistic flow within strengthens.
visions provide the options.
the energy flow slows, perception now
mandatory. the days grow darker
rebirth on the other side of winter.
I await anxiously, patiently,

recharging….

Expanding
Pushing my self to the outer edges
Of self,
Free falling, on the stern course
Of expansion.

Contraction
Requiring fuel to change over time,
Energy gains through the heart
Are taxing sometimes, calls us to
Retract our minds,
So our heart may guide and we fill
With life delight, the sunlight, the stars
The beauty of a fly. Our reality.

In and out, the perfection in the dance,
The lasting stance, of commitment to time.
We breath it in...

Instant relief.
The release...

New belief in expansion.

It's why they teach us dumb ish,
Why the schools are concerned with
The clothes kids live in.
The basics are so clear, we just miss them.
With every breath in, we potentially
Create again.

Slowly and fully allowing contraction.
Release of spent flow,
Slowly and fully recharging
To be expanded again.
To create again, and again, and again...

The future looks light

complete within
she encompassing both,
and source.

beat again
simple expectations almost always
impossible of completion.

expect and be a deaf again.
muted, bound, except
within.

the twin,
so I'll date my self,
figure her out, again.

let's see, how should I…
excuse me, could I,
no, miss, you look familiar,…
naw, yo! baby girl! whats your number?…

seven… and the chart is alignin
with every cycle there is…
my cycles, self aware of their taste.

rusty with my warm embrace…
this time hold my hand and
caress my face, look
deep through my eyes.
hold that stance, whisper
my love do you want to dance?
oh, yes… yes, I want to dance.
I can fulfill all of my desires,
satisfaction guaranteed.
I take my own lead, balance
and stand as a woman. A mother,
among the mothers, ready to create
again.

passion in my chest heaves
the cavity.
embraced in a waves crest,
held deeply, love in its simplest.
rest and birth again, empress.
yours the sweetest essence.

lungs with false puncture wounds
ripples of grit run the edges,
simple forms of welcome gestures
of creations path.
create new paths to follow tomorrow
and the days next.
the heaving extends and blossoms
within, sending pulsations
to the tips.

the sensing tentacles grip
the flow always moving through,
cleansing as the defining lines
lose definition.
the false thought conception
of separation making these blurred lines
difficult to see.
energy moves regardless.

shapes, regulates, procreates.
She initiates.
She that changes over time.

Silence experienced merely
From the reflection it imprints
Upon my ears.
Sensitivities finely tuned in
Feel the initial contact,
Embrace for the second wave.
Silent interactions pulsating waves
Of rays of silence. Movement.
Pureness riding currents of time,
Always coming from going.

Thought, and ripple created.
Thought, and silence separated.
Experience anew, perspective gaining surface to grip.
The attachment of lips, always
Prepared to part to create again.
The forces sole mission, you and I.

The master minds, you and I,
The We, released with the breath,
We choose what we see.
Indefinitely, subconsciously,
Directing vibrations to be reflected
In appropriate directions.
Mirrors and the reflected,
Lending to creations canvas,
Continually, possibility reigns as true.

As true as the possibility of you.
And I, my, vibe, it spreads wide.
It's perspective prefers flight.
Self trained pilot, charting her course.
Excited by it's reflection.

passionately impressed
by the beauty of the divine dance
the movement of time.
passionately moved within,
dancing in the beams of the light.

life dips and dives around me
the swirl of the essence grasps me
catches my breath.
Ive folded in, to learn to trust.
me, only. from I is all I can see.

so I trust me, finally.
undoubtedly, worry will still be known.
the law of the mind, until unknown.
how profound! just to trust, me.
my place in the sea of things…

I keep my arms opened
my heart softened
my embrace tight and free.

The essence of patience
The patience of light
The travel it takes, knowing
It must last for eternity,
Beaming forward, granting anew.

Patience the virtue.
The status to achieve, allowing now
So that next can just be, as it will.
The patience to leap.
Courage carries patience clear,
Fears weight sinking below.

Patience for death, for one again.
The longing for You, to know us again.
Patience to see clearly, open my heart
To now.
Moments always planned out.
Patience for the ******.

Patience for the touch of your skin,
The relation of kin, of natural senses.
Of the things that flow, easy.
Of titillating tickling of the, everything.
Your smell will bring me in.
I know it well… the musk of Earth
Wrapped in the forest, deep dug in my gut.

Dug down patiently to prepare my ground
To rise my crown, patient now
As maturation continues to take place.
Dug down, spine curled out
Back arched, heart opened…

Patient, awaiting your trail

My tribe hunts and gathers,
We know we need each other,
And so we hunt, and we create
And we locate…patience for
The revolution taking place…
Cyclical naturals, cycles of nature.
Back to the Earth we all go.
All things have a cycle.

Black the confluence of it all
The combination of beginning
And end
And all in between…
Creating a new with
Diligence
And clarity.

The path to evolution
Pevolution
Moving forward, always black.
Always new from black
Always old to black.

New definitions, none hold
The taste is inconsistent.
Black the beginning,

Black the consistency
Black the legacy, the nutritional
Delicacies.
The tones vibe through the black.

The pure black of time.
The pure black of you.

Skin is an *****, not a definition
It is adaptive to its times.

Black is our insides,
Our child eye.
Black the beginning.

you walk in, humble
yet with ownership.
I assume you own it.
your glide magnified by my eyes.

your long black hair
settles my desire,
the nerves grow to meet mine.
your eyes glance by mine,
I hear your breath stop.
you see me.

you see me, fully.
you cannot believe what you see.
you thought I only existed in
your dreams, and yet there I stand.

I stand, next to you, charging you,
fully charged within,
when you part from my side,
I feel the wind whip and twirl my mind
out of here… into the next life.

I stand next to you,
holding your hand.
palm in palm, sweetness
in our stance.
watching you for your guidance,
guiding with my hand.
trusting your vision.

I see through your eyes,
I know they cannot be mine.
the perspective is too wide.
the peripheral lacks the instances
yet sees you always.

you walk in the room
and my eyes find you.
my heart called you
my hands guide you,
to me.
listen carefully, I'm calling

I want you to teach me about the stars.
where each follows from,
and to. the constellations path.

I want you to map the sky with me.
write out the language of yesterday.
I know you've been studying…

I wait patiently for class,
preparing my eyes to see
all you do. It is meant for me to.

I need you to tell me the stories of the heavens.
replay the times spent.
spend these days with me.
relay the messages. call them out of me.

I return this site to you all. I never wanted to invade this precious space for so many. I will leave my poems up … I cannot believe I have had 10k views…its mind blowing that you can share your creations with so many. I will keep writing. This has been a huge gift for me. I know of the tense realities of this site, I LOVE it the same. Its been my ear, my shoulder during a year of amazing happenings. To the poet Stephen Holcomb, thank you for your words of guidance. I will learn how to stop when its time, one day. ryn, thank you for collaborating with me. I was very inspired… You are a beautiful poet and writer. That was only the first, not the last, creative collab Im a part of… what a special thing to combine that energy. To the women here, write your souls out. There are a couple that are deeply powerful ladies, I can tell. Vicki you instantly come to mind, you write as if in the heavens, as you are. I know you are no novice, I respect your work fully. Sisters keep using your voice. To the young black writers here, please keep writing! The world requires your perspective. To all the poets that read this, really, I enjoyed every poem Ive ever read here, many much more than others :) I have truly, humbly appreciated every single like and smiley face and comment. Each one gave me more confidence to practice this craft that I was born with, yet never exercised. This community helped me rise up from the creative ashes and be reborn. I have grown much here, among these words, these lines. You all know me better than anyone else in my life actually … Except the few friends that check my poems out here. They know that what I write is just my experience…

Id love to do what many of you do here and create a new account and write anew… though I feel my days here are just over. There is something about having this huge audience to write for, when you need to. I think I want to start reading my work though, and sharing it more with my community and I definitely have a book I need to get out. Besides the internet is just so not trustworthy… my brain needs a break from this melancholy madness!

I say all this to just say Thank You all, from the bottom of my heart, for allowing me into this community for the time I needed. I remember when I had 1000 views and I just about lost it! That was a lot of reads of works that had been read by no one else…. Which is why we writers are here… I get it.

Til we read again … LaNita ( which is my real name … I may write on another page website some day, and I will use the same name. If you see me say hi :) Maybe you could put me up on the politics of that site before I dive head in … ;) Peace

you, me and we.
simply, this is the source.
no visions needed, nor prophesy.
no mystical experience will be more clear
than perspective alone.

she, he and we.
simply. she receives, nurtures, gives.
he watches and guides, lives
to share seed, gives his light.
this is merely from in sight.
perspective, long history.
a single lifetime just too short,

so I repeat until I see, and this time
it is clear. I learn to trust my self.
she is tuned to the vibrational harmony.
she can see.

I have no other words to write,
I know my truth, the world loses interest.
the illusions wane in attraction,
heard mentality weakening, the attempts fleeting.
and I can just thank God.
the source of the trinity, the power of the flame.
the truth all really will claim,
the One.

we do not believe the confessions
before our faces,
the admittance of the travesties.
we choose to see things how
it is constructed to be seen.
there is always the choice,

I think its the missing rituals
that we forgot. spell casted,
fog rot. rolling in on all the mediums
that come from system, all of them.
so we're a little bit bombarded.

the muse of the creators, the power,
the originator, She, is to be trusted.
misguided centuries
have turned the heads disgusted
at the miracles of  their times,
witnessing the feminine spirit of the spine
birth a child, or raise a tribe.

She and her daughters are the ones
who know alone,
that moment, that human form
pushes out of your core,
emerges from the dark,
the songs of spirit circling the babe,
caressing the body for the trek.

alone, that moment. you have no one.
there is no option, it is you and God
gracing the entrance of new life.
portals being used so frequently
we call it normal…

we cut wombs, screaming
mama cannot open, (as her entire system shuts down from stress)
woman robbed of her moment alone,
her moment to know,
to remember her home,
the submitting to faith alone
that she is alive!
(pitocin has the exact same effect,)

robbed of birth, the birthing mother
weeps for the gut wrenching, stomach hurdling
pain to cease, the pain of creation.
the necessary absorption for mother
to mother, to heal her children, her nation.

in that moment alone she learns who she is …

with that moment she becomes mother,
her ritual as a creator.
woman finds her way there regardless,
though these moments are the ones
God created to witness self,
to hear the music of movement,
to live in the creative destruction,
as one.

some will tell the story as there are many sides
there is only one.

imagine the misery 
that could be released

if the bodies that

already depend on her

structure

could freely invite her

into their time.


That would be a rhyme

of reparations size.
a rhyme of freedom chimes.
just to be with her on the land.
submerged in her awareness,
healing of the nations confirmed.

She grows best where the sun shines long

and strong

where the air is hot

mosquitos have agendas

and time is just different

the sun shines long 
and strong

and she grows tall and wide

naturally 
using the nutrients of the Earth

to co-create with herself

a new generation called

by so many.


In these places

the bodies are protected
 with ample vitamin D

perfection of the dream

the hair spirals to a tight coil

assisting with heat release

these bodies

with their recognizable
 similarities to me,
to us all.


The ocean is so blue,
in some of these places,

even I jump in.


She grows best when her power is understood

the intimacy of her relationship

with all who are open.

She is so strong.

Manifestations be like that though…

her ability to totally support her community,

while also accepting from the network

is awe-inspiring.

Her lineage is so cooperative

its probably the first real jealousy

I've felt in a few days.


To be able to interact with

You

through touch or words or color

and instantly understand
your needs.

And then to be able to satisfy even one of them?!


Man the brain leaves much to ask for.


She was the first one that talked to me.

She was screaming

she was being eaten

I thought I was just dreaming.

I wasn't.


The concrete my feet grew on

was too cold to understand

(though I'm sure it too has 
something to say…)

so the translation is a bit jumbled.

And uncomfortable
…am I just crazy??

well, yes, of course,
I talk to myself all day long...

the pull to your core riles my attention
the pull is dedicated, though not to you.
your core is what I'm after.
you represent an immature version
of us, I add in my growth and we
continue to develop.

though you are merely a fraction,
we are spread far. the pieces
rile my attention, create a tunnel
that emblazons my affection for myself.
for us all. in each meeting,
I am looking for you.
my thoughts are captured
in the essence of the trueness of everything,
the fragility, the permanence of nothing.
flowing in this interaction, the balance.

it seems life must be short.
my daughter calls me to live long,
I wake each day to embrace another chance
to sit in myself, in this body,
to witness this vantage point.
I get lonely in here, my tribe spread thin.
I know that the energy of
the spread of a galaxy realigns us constantly.
we create the things that communicate to
hear our own memories.
and I am just thankful,
all other emotions lacking substance.

like a young child from a fresh lesson,
the ones that spark imagination
that takes them through the
next 10 years,
giddy, cheesy grin,
self realization. it makes the universe unfold
at your eyes.

and its not my prize to claim,
its my birthright to claim.
I, the expression of
the music of the spheres,
the dances of the strings,
the whole of things.
expression to witness the pure glory
of things…pure.

the excitement overthrows
all the shadows of the world.
their existence, Im fully aware of.
personally. emotionally attuned.
they exist because of the Sun,
there is no getting away from
and so I can just allow them to be.
when they creep over me,
I hold high, as I know they always pass…
or I am dead, and the glory of that
is only of my imagination,
I do think of. I wonder if feeling
still exists. though I take my time to verify…

open towards the sky, child.
open towards the sky.

entries in my diary
ears to receive me
heart aching for its twin
to be reborn, again.
writing to free the spirit
trapped within,
bubbling, overly enthusiastic
overly sensitive, disconnect
from day to day functions.
entries in my diary keep me speaking.

I see them, those young kids
MCin, that distant look in the eye
that drift off, the switch took place.
words of other worlds.
its the space that I feel safe,
where my screams of ecstasy
are embraced, my moans to the moon,

my voodoo prince, is it the life to live…
I'd either stay in til the 2nd premonition,
or become addictive, set in trance
by the intensity of the chant. not
ever ready to come back,
wishing my children lived there too.

I'm down to visit, or create
a village.

because when she loves
she does it with her heart
she leads with her soul

because when she speaks
listening seems wise
her tone keeps your attention

because she creates
her spirit sings brightly
she sees the undertones

to be a piece of the sea
you must
flow freely

traces of your essence
litter my path, well lighting
the way, charging the rebel in me,
knowing I can truly be no other.

only traces, substantial pieces
have been broken down
into traces, the dust of things
of the past. only remains.

the traces illuminate within me
as if they were me, and I know they are.
your words play as the memories
that I choose to stay in
and replay, and cherish.

traces of stuff gets blown around
and I can taste that which has graced
you. that which flowed through you.
it rests my sense of urgency.

the traces seem to be enough
for me to follow, to a greater me.
to a clearer journey, the rebel being
nourished, while the servant doing the work.

the work that must be done.
the work of the angles.
of the ones that guide us, my grandma.
the work of LOVE,
the one that destroys all it creates.
the power of fate, the feeling laughing
creates. just do the work, she says,
whether they laugh or
turn the heads,
do the work.
put together the traces,
they lead only to You.

I have sons spread around the world
birthed by different girls
foundation built in my arms.
recognition of the need of men
of the Love of a woman,
for a woman to guide his heart,
to open his eyes to his start.

she whispered,

the power of the son.
he is of she, penetrates the sea
and births anew.
she the prototype, the official
original, the womb.

woman, her scent alarms the masses.
and we scream now.
we scream and we cry
we live in angst in our homes,
our men are concerned.
yet our pheromones sense things,
weather and other perturbations.

mothers voice in the heart of her children,
daughters tend to stay closer to home.
women, we hear the call!
as we quiet our longing drawl,
the pull we feel to somewhere, we know not of
a place beyond the beauty of our eyes,
we know,
we remember,
our requirements as a creator.

ours, the power of the reflection
of the full moon,
the trees dance in the monthly celebration,
though in the desert, I've seen a few
who,
when the moon is too full,
too reflective of its presence,
they fold to hide from the light.
knowing whats best for themselves, I trust.

I just can't help but to choose to stand
with Her.
stand in Her light, my mouth
opens for the gift.
the thirst quenched.
head tilted back, think of
the men of the world.
if I could just hug them.

as Ms Badu claims
I bet you LOVE can make it better …
I bet too.
I bet I can heal you.
open your heart, peal the bitter,
drain the water, raise the alter.
praise the lover, embrace as a Mother.
pour into the builder, the sender.
release his true endeavors.
release the tension in his body,
helping him to know
mind over matter.
plugging him into the true
creative power
of his ***, his gift of Love,
of his body penetrating another.
what his self is communicating,
what his seed is sprouting.

he needs our healing.
his heart is calling, and he's stomping around
like a little boy! I have sons, they stomp around…
they need mommys love,
mommys extra love.
she, calls us to her sons.
new normals, open our hearts
health always to follow.

powerful thighs quiver
as new life ruptures
from the core of her.
body goes limp once
life arrives.
temperatures settle and
she stands.
then things get back to normal.

loving me
allow me to lay
me into you.
open me how only you do,
press upon my being
my necessary lesson.
to lay myself in We, only.
loosen the worldly grip,
submit.

melt and fade away.
my outline merged, stretched,
consoled, coaxed to join the whole,
consciously, again.
I testify to be absolved of
the grim
realities of time.
submit to reunion.

I write my submissions
and provide documentation
of time.
I assist energies plans,
providing a helping hand when I can.
when I'm not caught in my mind,
planning my energies span.

I open my heart in submission.
I open my life to the illumination, within.
I need not technological advances
to tell me the time.
I look up, and see the times
before us, upon us,
coursing through us, setting
the future.
and I fear not.
for my heart has felt the truth,
it submits naturally
once the focus is set
on submission
to God

you see I'm a Pisces
and so pieces of me are
lost at sea.
bobbing in the oceans glee,
swimming with halves of
other Pisces. trying to balance things out.
made with the end of the other
in the mouth.
designed to serve
and move like water.

you see I'm a Pisces
and so parts of me are in you.
naturally, its the last Zodiac,
the finale before, reborn again.
Pieces of me sense the end is near,
the end of the separation, the twin
is to return.
she is to swim upstream and reunify
with other pieces of me, and
reassure me
I am ONE.

pieces of you infect my mind
replay constant stories, mostly lies.
the truths are overly
inspiring, and so I thrive.
I miss you.
I wade in the shallow end.
I know you are preparing for me… and so I wait.

I wait while I move, stillness
only during contemplation.
positive movement is my
dedication, my natural flow.
though my muscles tire too.
especially Pieces of me that
take upstream home,
slow and steady, they moan.
never too impressed by the journey
alone.
tunnel vision, only thinking of her own
time in the currents, just missing
the cycle of things.

yet only able to allow the cycle of things
to take their course,
as they naturally do.

and so pieces of me will wait for you.

Body relaxed, reserved energy
For travels a far.
Eyes fixed, focus thin
External stimuli dim.
Breath deepens,
Situations replay again,
Like are they really real, again?
Like how come so few can view them?
Like what is really happening?
Contemplating reality.

Mind separating the data,
Sifting the *******
From the gold.
Weighing and weighting,
Inventory control.
Heavy duty lifting,
Mother Earths story to be told.
Infected, protected, selected
To be told.

Considerations and validations,
Take so much time.
Sorting cosmic energy
Permeating our space constantly.
The compass takes a spin,
Silence... We are confused again,
Walking slowly and rather dumbed.
Bought in, and then few will decline
These are the times, history
Told.

the birthing goddess
her body preparing for insemination
the richness pooled among her trenches.
bright red and hot. when she can no longer
contain
it explodes out
with a force we are always unprepared for.

She, our mother.
our creator. we molded in the fire of her womb.
She, our mother, fractionally recreates.
She, knows her purpose.
the crimson show is for no weak man,
men struggle to understand the power
in that core. they, too far removed from
their mothers hands. mother's lands remind us,
but we wear shoes for that.

today, I read that we all began as woman.
my body is the predecessor of my sons.
so invested in LOVE and creation,
she
gives up her organs for the balance of our time.
sacrifices the creative womb
to bring forth the solution. the balance.
she knows instinctively that
her womb
is the power of the center of our Earth.
is the power of the rapture of destruction
the force of the creation of LOVE.
she, our Mother.
like with all children, the farther you are from mom,
the less you remember her lessons.

she calls me to her bedside.
I enter the room, confidence birthing
as I near my Mother's side.
she embraces me, touches my soul
through other family members
and through LOVE.
she sacrifices her easy rotation,
her youthful spin, I feel the dizziness too now.
slowing down with conscious effort within
at my Mother's bedside, I shower her with LOVE,
compassion, tears, nutrition, beautiful flowers to smell,
all the things she taught me.
all the things she gives me.

our Mother Earth who LOVES
our fertile Father
our genetics, the subtleties.

the street lights are on…

do you here your Mother's call?

you hear my song
as the wind blows
it sings tunes
of generations past
times before record,
that were necessary
for now.

my song whistles
through
corridors of rock
races with the geese
drifts through a monarchs form
provides space for the hummer
its wings buzz
moving faster than my mind.

****   ****    ****
the bell welcomes my song
it touches me with
vibrations
I am tuned to.
which radiate down and out
along the locs
through to the soil
nourishing my
mind,
her smile.

the pitch of my song
depends on the medium
in the dawn and dusk
low and warm
at noon
charged to sing
inspirational seeds
so they can sprout, and
be left alone.
to send her children
into the wind
and then turn to dirt.

this is my song
wind song
bits of me release themselves
are carried off with the wind.
commune with bits of you
and ancestors,
circle the sphere
wisp through bamboo,
I breath again.
I taste you.
I breath the molecules,
out again.
they start their path
with the wind
again.
recombined, except argon.
the one wholly breathed
since the beginning
the wind will circle it
around until the end.
these bits of consciousness
will touch every lung
that needs it
connecting everything that is it.
I hear my song...

I
cry for peace
for the love of God.
tears push through my lashes
I see the truth, clearly now,
the only discovery, myself.

I
smile at the grey sky
laugh with the thunder
of Earth, of our souls.
embracing the clouds that
keep us cool, and with water.
grey clouds used to
bog me down, like a lead foot,
held to the ground.
to have eyes to see through those
clouds,
to see you and me and our Sun.
she greeted me this morning.
I cry.

I cry for every I love you,
every embrace,
each new bond created,
all weaknesses overcome.
I cry for God, the tears of love.
the tears of the clouds.
my body combining con del mar
lifted high above, released on skin.
lighten the load, cleanse the core.

I cry, I release my God essence
back
to the whole, never disconnected,
loaner tears.
never mine to share
nor mine to keep in,

I've come out, deliverance desired.
my tears rush out, overwhelmed
I have nothing to offer, we are one.
all I know, you have. I am you too.
self realized, patterns breaking.
consistency is the key.
I walk and I cry and I smile and I laugh and I love
I love. the specifics of source
only to be understood at
reunification, and so I walk
and I cry, beyond faith,
into the truth of God.

The path of
A peace warrior
Is often misunderstood
This power, focused intention
Must be endured
By the peace warrior
For she is commited to peace

To love, to that above
To us
She, the warrior of light
Of sanctuary, peacefully
Outstretched before we
Lined with sparkling things.
She guides thee,
Her wings light and free.
Soaring through the heavens
Watching carefully, closely,
Whole heartedly. Dipping
Fingertips, sensory system abled,
Deep into the surface of  the woes
The heart aches
Soothing through the presence of self.

Energy focused, clarity surfaced.
Stand the tests alone...
Until another from the Sun arrives
Open your heart, for the
Unity is the rise, the prize of the day!
Nourished just under the presence
Of skin,
Just beyond the weight of wind.
The system that touches us all,
Releasing all degrees of separation.
Illusionary precognitions.
Only One.

The peace warrior knows the way
Her counsel gathers round her
And fixes to smother her burn,
Only to encourage new light
To emit.
Squeezing out the rays
The ways of the
Peaceful warrior,
To be spread along with the wind
And the breath of God.
I welcome all that is within.
I set myself on fire!
Focused on the light

I choose this path
The steps clearer now

you create a ripple of
all the good.
transcending, exploding within.
feast on my memories.
bake them with your light.
allow me in. barriers are none.

our souls meet, every night.
I dream of those days,
ahead.
how my head will feel resting on your lap.
watching
how your palm feels on my neck.
barriers are for fools.

we need no control
the freedom we exude is our nature.
we came here to share
freedom in nature.
I still walk beside, and become alive
at your sounds. the sounds that
come from you
make me want to learn to play the sax,
I want to replay the emotion of your voice
for you.

I've never done well with barriers.
even tinting my windows can cause me angst.
please don't think, before you do.
just give me you. Ive wanted this gift for years.
I've learned the lesson of reception,
no turning back … the perfection of rebirth,
move forward.

homecoming
time to go home.
the light beacons my way,
calls we to thee…
obstacles to clear,
health to restore
and share. forests to plant.
the path is lit.

home coming time,
explore and expand.
home sent me out,
absorb and extend.
question and learn,
open the heart.
align with the stars,
then come see us again.

Sankofa, indeed…
no where but home. she knows me.
when I laugh with her vibes,
she gets me. she loves me
I am of her.
beauty, so lucky to know her, my mother.
the lights are on, its getting dark,
time to return.

to my birthplace, my personal space
of the Earth. the home that
knows me.
my family is calling me.
calling me home…

this time I will see what I see,
I will spend the days with my feet
on the streets, searching for the hugs
that await me. LOVE the
vibe that birthed me… the relaxed
confident Californian … ME

the essence of this is independence
the solo dance
the one we are born into.
the confidence to step, step by step,
alone.

the essence of my youth is this
realizing I had my interests best
reigns in my hands, instant success.
thankful to those along the path,
who felt my light, my heat, my heart,
well before I invest.

the essence of the black hole,
my infatuation clearer now.
you experience independence,
the systems of existence have no chance with you. you stand alone,
yet! await the other side.
I must be born of you.

of the land of independence
of the tribes, of the scribes
greatest tales.
the independent that Sun too
gazes back upon.
the birthing black hole.

the balance here, now,
of independence and creator.
perfection real, so
nothing to strive for,
but to love more. so I love you more
and I thank God I witness.

and I receive the plant message,
relationships, the interdependence,
is solely for nourishment.
I will nourish you.
I'm built for it.

Energy games these days.
Synergy claims.
Learn to relay, signals
Impounding on my ears.

Listen closely my dear.
It's all in here. There's just
Nothing to fear.
Tear fully, submit consciously,
Celebrate the oath of life.
Taste the flavors of the Earth.

She is here for us. And all.
And everything.

Questioning may continue
For a short time more.
My desire to know for sure,
Though will out soar,
Will implode the weak,
Low vibrations, Til they barely dim.

Peace is within, the faithful
Chant. I now sing this hymn
My heart has the beat,
And when I watch,
My mind finds the keys,
The steps, the recipe.

Faith is only the beginning...
I must be my best me.
Perfection is reality, no need to strive.
Standing up, Notice the toes on my feet,
Just being me. As I have no other
Choice.
Releasing IDs,
Sculpting energy,
Creating,

the sensations ripple
so deep
through, within, so deep,
they are for the union.
our sacrifice, our blessed gift.
*******, chocked and tense,
only yet, to fully be free.

women, creative force within.
always stirring...

confidence built on the
external sensations.
internal perturbations
wreak havoc on my focus,
cause recurring memory lose.

One is, regardless.
the ride is intense, heart wrenching,
heart warming, heart healing.
lead with the heart.
drop the defense.
One is, regardless

a shadow crept in
quickly, quietly, unannounced
unwelcomed.
the signs were flushed
on the flesh of her face.
tiptoed, trying a hostile takeover.

Eureka! its presence is now known.
the dark vibratory notes tone
recognized.
diagnosis of dis-ease or disease,
regardless, the journey continues.

reborn to birth anew
You, will heal.
You, shine heal-her vibrations,
regardless, if all parties are on board!
its just your soul.
I've watched you from before
to the crown, now is Your time
to shine!
and let thy food be thy medicine,
hands are awaiting your embrace.
weak hearts are preparing for your tune up!
Child! You are health!

I anticipate a reintroduction
of sorts. though our souls
have been one from source.
our mothers and brothers and grandmothers
one pulse, one tune.
healing for the ages, healing of the sages.
we must stand up, just put our feet down!
rise, sister, rise.
neither victimized nor misunderstood,
You! oh You. I love you
I miss you. I'll see you soon...

Weeks before I was warned.
Weeks before the bellows grew.
The aches were heard,
the awareness of the end.
A dance of groan and give,
groan and give.

Prepare for the attack!
They are coming with chainsaws
and they see along the line.
Please be aware! Know yourself!
I won't be here for ever.
My time is set… My cycles end intended.
Please, child, please, listen.
You have opened your heart
to me.
I trust you now.
Now trust me.

The groaning, weeks before,
alerted me to an impending date.
A date with death.
The hit was felt.
The after effect to follow the days.
The whole in the sky to be foreign
for the days.
Feeling exposed, and alive!
Alive to witness the
death of A Giant.

The crash is overwhelming.
The day is too heavy.
The time draws near.
I will miss you my dear.
I pray to thee and ask you
to watch over me.
Please do not leave me.
Lay new roots with me.
I'll dance and I'll sing
and commit. You trust me.
You know me. We stand the test
as one.

Groan bellow with the wind tone
We stand the test as one.
We release the pressure,
the melancholic low vibrational hum…
the presence of absence, lost here.
She joins her friend, leaving behind
fragments
to be reborn,
cradled, in my hands. I will call
on the Mother Earth within
to breath life again.

We never end! she screams as she crashes to the ground.
Her resting place. My final vision
of my friend.

working definition, society or civilization
in its entirety.
provide an example otherwise
I am open!

power too strong to control
focus is on mind
and time and divide.
the true brilliance of being,
here, ever,
proves its a hoax.

and all of it.
not most or some
but all of it is
needed
to keep this power
beastly energy God
subdued!

the whole packet of
information
is too cryptic.
when one finally recognizes
and reorganizes
with Mother Nature,
simplicity begins the chain.
when I fully reclaim
this will be my nature
my peace
it always has

originally
we are not here
and so
suffering is habit formed.
agony is ego stroked.
tales are told,
sold, or cold, ******
imprinted on our souls.
written on our memory
planes… pains, panes… regardless we remember.
circumcision of the heart and brain
self proclamation
with names and culture,
and all these different languages!
keep us stupid…
brain led and plainly disconnected.
from ourselves, our Earth family
and God.

I never embraced that word.
these days I understand differently.
I see the intelligence in propaganda
and its own beastly energy
and I step aside, lose interest
and breath

our moon
She misses our moans
enclosed behind these walls
She yearns for our souls
our calls
our songs
our passion in love.

She beckons me
with an alluring glare.
barely aware of her
realities.
captured by mystery
She
calls on me.
preparing me.
I the novice star gazer.

She, here with me,
She warns me.
She rallies her team.
She implodes in dreams.
She maintains despite lean.
Her majesty, sprouting new life
only when ready.
and collects and releases the being
for her sisters meeting.
She, recapturing herself.
pure giving and
receiving.

this love I know.
this love the moon proves
Time and
Time again.
She misses the grounds
growl,
the ripple of new life.
spirits pastime
create create create…

born under a balsamic moon.
aware of my call home.
eager to share all of me.
to inject my gift into the realm of now!
honestly a bit weary.
energy being forced out.
supernova type theories.
nearing the end of a cycle,
matter recycled,
She calls me back in.
this time I am even taller.

science is the study
that fragments nature and my mind.
it was the inevitable
parting of ways.
as my son chose me and lit the more
delicate traces
so I could trace back.
Sankofa.

it's theories must be
erased from my senses.
so intwined in my perspective.
my people carry me through the mess.
to the other side, where really
it all makes sense.
once, I questioned
everything.
all the holes science creates
by the hands of its very nature.

equations are written in our souls.
not the miracle revelations of
science.
but the simple observations of
time.
disconnected from our land
we too get broken down.

our nature is to build
create, create, create
once our nature is reaffirmed,
within,
we begin to recognize our creations.
realize our manifestations.
our power.
our God-like structure.
it's happening all over.
our intelligence as a species
is aligning with our wisdom.
the heart naturally awakens
along with inner vision
followed by revolution!
the origin, here, now.
not always black or white …
more like somewhere in between.

I now recognize my youth
she hasn't been gone long
more recently
ending of one
begin a new song
I understand what happened to my mom.

my youthful days were free
in a way they no longer are.
yet freer today still.
motherhood and maturity,
marriage and low energy purging,
self imposed isolation for healing
and not really sleeping
have aged me.

not physically as much
though I see the crows feet
creeping in quietly
they don't bother me
passed through family,
lines my brow can sustain.

these babies remind me of my youth
times of a quieter mind
and a deeper desire to travel.
now all I daydream of is roots.
the underground is astounding.

my locs keep growing
rooted at the crown
I feel the beat pumping out
the essence is vibrating
causing me to giggle
youthful in my soul.

my locs grew up with me
we continue to mature
rooted together, they extending outward
an extension of my being.
tentacles that develop meaning
and develop me.

and with each development
the youthful cloak
gets thinner and lighter
translucence promised
as the days pass by.
this life's lessons heavy handed
on the front end.
pure passion for each message to come
only gratitude and love to my youth
She,
the master of my mind.

come drip with me
drip in me
fill my senses
with fluidity
liquify my mind
flood my memories
reunify, end your trip down stream.

drip with me, into
each possibility
roar with me
encompass all barriers
along the road
fall into
the falls with me
s  o  a  r  i  n  g  
through the bends to the end
of that trickle.

be me its all I have to offer
as I desire to be you.
I know the truth
you do too
the chemicals make visibility cloudy
and then we start to consider
is stream or steam
better?
and then we slow freeze
and develop a rigidity
and miss the abyss of the hairline split in time
we were destined to kiss.
we miss the lessons of our Mother
so we must start at the heart.

clear your heart for me
let me top off your energy
with the love I feel pulsating
through my crown. shower
You down to me.

reorganize beliefs
move like water

yet again,
born amongst confusion.
options
to create tunnel vision that leads to
misguided directions.
leads to the blatant miss of self.
lead to the breakdown of me,
all my philosophies,
my dear.
release choice, abandon the notion
I am somebody.
dissolve the judgement,
my nature knows not
of these vibrations.
my nature, devour these noises.

true beauty from my vantage point
true blessing of motherhood
desires controlled
ego losing its companion.
self, aware of my voice, now.
self, aware of my ecstasy,
of my memories.
calling the end to accepting
new imprints
that signal warning
that perpetuate the climate being warmed
and the matter of past matter
released into space.
free energy to create again and again…
calling and end to my madness.
insanely choosing anything
again and again.
tip toed to free.
now opening to my truest possibilities.
I was always free.

energy has a new burst
bubbling oozing out.
I have no space for their identity.
so I replace it.
so I commit to communication.
so I move forward
peacefully
abandoning all sadness, grief and misery.
I inject my fingers,
high into space.
I learn to play the strings.
I do as I am
and I calm.
perhaps my next birth will be amongst peace.

both magnesium and iron
are plentiful in the crust
of the earth.
magnesium in abundance in the sea.
and then it hits me
rationally speaking,
plants were birthed from the ocean
and we from the land,
literally.

the Earth gives birth
to her infinite babes.
life on other planets?
oh most definitely.
planets give birth
as all Mother's do.
Her babes peal away from her
being. Plants from the ocean
with magnesium in their blood.
and we from the dust.
walk the Earth. Plants prepared
the air
so we could walk the Earth.
The Earth and its babes
look the way they do
because of her
presence in the system
she revolves in.
She, we call Mars, her babes
must represent her place in space.
life on other planets will
always look like their
Mother too.

this one is heavy for me too…
and yet it has to be true.
our Mother is no different
than her sisters. Her Mother
a creator. The Heat Source
for her children. Her *****.
circling around her as
my children do me.
rotating endlessly.
until its time has passed too.

all things have a time

and then they explode!
I had to fold before I could break out
but I'm broken now…
no turning back.

the enormity of time makes me quiver
and I'm just trying to remember
all the rules of us.
I know I have them here
and you have them there.
too many questions to clear
balance out, finalize and submit…
yet I feel it.
I hear it. So,

I re-join Nature's revolution
our only true solution
the reunion of the Earth's
sistren and bredren
unification of this Times kin
brought together to rectify the days lost.
the memories only one side
knows both sides know…
the time to sing the national hymn
Oh come all ye
come and communion again.
wet our vibrations tips and ends
curl up again then
dip right back in.
the only place we will feel comfort.

our children are starving.
the curriculum surrendered to
System.
the days of imagination
and heart tone stimulation
lost.
tuning in after these days is
rough. knowledge and things
get in the way.
self doubt is rough.
though it can be a start.
self examination will always
lead to the heart.
so do a little check up.
the clean up can be rough
but the road is only awaiting you.
these things are
as you are. nothing can escape
our grasp. it is the presence we sense
enveloping our senses.
but only most of us can't believe
in that stuff.
all the magical fluff.

I'm a truth seeker.
I question every thing I can imagine.
yet remained open and now
the magic is obvious.
my self realization is at the level of
rocks, though that's quite a personal accomplishment.
I've only now called myself a poet.

reality is
that plants and man
go hand in hand
that plants mans
right hand man
that mans hand
is strengthened through
plants.
plants blood
feeds man.
mans bones
feed plants.
no plants no man.
the relationship is
symbiotic.

reality is
freedom is a birthright
of all born.
freedom to do as
one yearns, pulled toward.
concrete somehow tricks
our feet into believing we are free.
though we do not hear
the message of the beat
the tune of the heat
emanating from the earth.
we miss steps, tricked by concrete.
our egos need a check.

reality is
all are symbiotic relationships.
no you no me.
I only see me because
I can see me next to you.
same with plants.
life is not linear
or clean, the dirt you sweep up
is meant for you to breath.
vibrissae deal in exclusive ways,
only allowing nutrients
and B12 in.
mysophobia is a dis-ease of the mind.

reality is
we are cut off from our home.
from our air
from our dirt
and our plants.
they too miss us.
the wisdom of life is long
the proof to **** linearity.
the trees call us to honor our bond
to sound the alarm
calmly, in the dream state
so all touch the vibration.

they call to us always.
their dreams need our ears
our hands release the inspiration
of us, together, symbiotically
creating.

She awakens from her slumber
in December… days before winter.
una siesta corta.
perhaps a new normal
arrivals of color and buds
preparing for spring,
bubbling with excitement
perhaps confusion.
more likely a form of
adaptation. perhaps it will take
us longest to adapt.

She awakens to a streaked sky
clouds of new normals
that funnel and vanish
before your very eyes.
causing me to think, I'm losing my vision.
but they actually vanish before your eyes.
I've been watching clouds for
a while now… perhaps a new normal.

She awakens to new smells
senses chemical reactions in the air
that may be confusing her.
or they themselves
are changing her climate.
producing new mixtures,
the chemistry lessons of space.

I wonder what the trees
in the desert are experiencing.
is the Mesquite wrestling
with whether or not
to send that energy to her leaves,
wondering if her dears need her seeds.
I wonder what our friend thinks,
and I see what she wanted me to see.
the energy of the populace
continues to fade
so my sensing keeps improving.

She's waking up here…
I welcome her presence,
always.
this is not a poem
of discontent.
yet a message through my
sense, as it grows,
I just need to get this up off my chest!

electromagnetically
feelings occur,
responsive to going ons,
pineal gland awakens the senses.

and almost every woman has heard it
"you're so emotional."
so electromagnetically aware
and we don't remember this,
now,

the womb,
the beat maker,
she tunes the
energy of the babe.
mothers wave of
waves fractionally
lay a deep foundation
of the babes waves.
I tell my children
if they can't find me
to look in their hearts
I reside there…
my rhythm, my beat, my heat
lives on.

my womb
charged that spark
that started the parting
of molecules
fractionally
creating its imagine
time and time again, (as we do)
until, begin again,
a new life.
rest your head upon my chest
child
for a recharge.

in our civilized world
we send mothers to work
in a make believe cycle of need.
babes heart searches
for mamas tone
she only cries short
cautious of overspent energy
first dose of sickness.

and EVERY woman has heard it…
"you're so emotional"
notably more so
during some part of her
moon cycle.
so obviously the moon
is more electromagnetic
than we guess.

and women are more emotional
because we are the heart
of the species.
we co-create the heart
of the species.
we require the emotional
antenna
to summon the essence of the heart.

we didn't come from a rib…
our ribs vibrate the
harmony of life through our time!
our hearts beat
the pulse of the
sun
and the dark side of the moon
and infinity.
we are electromagnetically
inclined to emotions.
systematically processing
the energy of existence.

perhaps the first title I will accept
a claim upon my being,
the feminine sensitive.

they called me here
to this home
to this time.
I listened
I've always been a good listener.
as soon as I learned the
definition
of heed, I began.
it's my favorite word

and so I listened
and we're here
and it all just keeps working.
paying attention to the subtleties ,
the wind breeze,
the crows tease,
the bugs glowing, blue eye…
the crimson show,
the earth moved,
the air beneath this ground,
the vines lasting
stretch to protect the fruit
obviously
grown for us.
never a year before?
I truly wonder still.

when?
now, as he said.
it's now.
I'm only now.

there is nothing to await
though impatience is a mental normalcy.

our friend in the desert
made the connections.
she must have told me
though I don't
remember
hearing her.
I ramble sometimes
and listening is impaired.

of course I'm a work in progress…
it's mostly due to
depending on my memory
its impermanent in its
very nature.

now!
if I lived there, I would
have it a little easier
but I'm still scared of the dark.
one of the remaining fears,
a part of the message
sent;
called me here.
the lessons continue to
self realize
and appear, right
at my eyes,
never before
always on time.
always.

first fall
partially, fully aware.
fresh perspective
of ancient rituals,
climactic displays
of change. over time
evolution always take place.

creation is our language, we speak
the perfect union
with paint and song and ***
and it all.
it has TO BE
if it is more than an imaginary predicament.

creation until there is
no space left.

create, create, create

it is our DNA.

the only real constant is change.
even change is changing - creating.

until space is filled up.

then changing again
never to be outdone by itself, excuse me,
ourselves.
I feel it vibrating
1  2  3  4

I burn to know for sure.
faith is all I have.
I wish proof of self was something
rational
to explain away.
I maintain my faith my experiences
created.
I stay away from
(mostly, though some things are so entertaining!)

make believe.

I am a truth seeker!
partially, fully aware
that I'll never quite make it there
yet…there are more
times to come,
vast creation awaiting
its, excuse me,
our
time to play again.

justice eludes reality
for in its elusiveness,
it cowers in the darkness of its origin.
the ego is its master.
a voice that chants I matter...
I mean something, not necessarily
more or less
just something.
justice uses the voice of the many
speaks in the tongue of the people
bred to seek justice. so that justice
has a voice.
because
concepts cannot actually speak.

ripple effects of
conversations of justice
and of death seek
all who seek their frequency.
ripple effects shock
me at night,
vibrate my senses.
I seek ripple effects.
I am charged in the current
of inspiration
and creation,
cooperating with the flow
of things.
all things have a flow.

all things have a flow.

conversations of justice
and peace
(anywhere outside oneself)
create a charge of energy
and we feel it
as it passes through
our senses.
since the conversations of
peace and justice began
people have been
confused.
we no longer understand
the language of
the senses.
we get hung up on words...

my heartbreaks for his mother regardless