I write my story for 7 cycles out,
the children of my children's bodies.
their children's children, this is for you.
my ancestors rebirthed.

I share my path of victory
over my internal doubts, fears, resistance,
lower awareness, to confess,
we can do anything.
we can become the controller of our beast.
there is no need for schooling
outside of oneself.

so I push my quest out on the wind.
provide a memory of success based
on embracing the dark as best,
as it births the new. flowing through,
moving with an empresses poise.

paths to follow, knowingness of power.
working for the One.
fulfilling our greatness, walking tall and proud.

A mother
prepared for motherhood
is a rarity
waiting for the
right time
right man
to be what
she was born to be
reproductivity organs
rest within the mothers
womb.

A mother prepared
to continue the race
aware of her permanent
embrace
of her children…
to know a mother
look within
the human desire for
love.
her love is infinite
gut wrenching
consciousness capturing
species supporting
emotions of pure
reward.

A mother prepared for
the time
any time
of her child's life.
out of her mind
shifted to their perspective,
temporarily.
personally stagnated
and yet
developing among the heights of
the Mountain Men.
where is this
civilized woman's women?
men request gurus
mothers are the re-quest
of women.
and men too…
but the commitment is meant
to be shorter.

A mother prepared for motherhood
is a rarity.
her tribe has been
robbed
from around her.
her grandmothers wisdom
is buried
in layers she's not
hip to yet…
then her hips stretch
motherhood calls,
and she reclaims them anyways.
because its her intention.
she's a woman.
in some cultures you're not a mother
until you're a grandmother!
I better understand
old wives tales now…

the massive movement
away from matriarchy sees to be a major
point.
are we prepared to rise up?
rise up our sons
mirror for our daughters
submit to our birthright?

…hey I couldn't live with me mom either.

surrendering my low vibing energies,
casting them out to sea.
awaiting the cleansing.
it approaches slowly, quicker now.
the rivers meet and bring nutrients from
upstream, they bring new life
from others parts, diversifying.
the snow is melting.

I hear it coming, the visions steady,
these days intended to heal.
what a cyclical thing releasing old ways.
searching behind for whats next.
feeling around in the dark,
unsure of what is to be found.
what rests in the shadows.
who will be with me.

I know you will be there.
you will catch me.
as I allow my knees to give,
my sight goes dark,
my heart breaks open.
the light within blinding and burning anything near.
severing the past.
those moments of before.

theres something to my path,
this journey,
I am to surrender to my self,
the true me.
the one that knows you in everything.
the one that feels the strings of time.
the inner being.
I am to allow this to see.
to direct.
this has been validated.

the stars direct me.
they guide me, provide the inner layers.
construct the inner days time.
and I trust the steps they lay.
I will continually choose my light way,
aware of what the dark has,
I shine through. I pierce the womb,
I come through.
I absorb you,
I surrender.

There's a love song I'm stuck on
It sounds like the wind
It moves so quickly
I get anxious each time it ends.
So I hit replay.

I listen again, I hear the promises.
It's tones are tuned to my ears.
It's near, it pierces my pores.
So clear, the melody of my heart.

I taste the tears as they roll
To my lip. Salty memories of times
I searched for you.
Years of running from the dark and
Always towards the light.
I remember the last one was a man,
And he chased me to your arms.

That fear stayed far behind

And it creeps up from time to time.

It's my kidneys path.
Gone to support the health of my family.
My kin.
You all.
A sacrificial path. The one
To end with.
The final breaths of some ending.
Some beginning.
Some new hand.
Those times call me now.
Bridging these gaps.
Time is moving fast...

My love,  I gasp
At the thought of embracing your hand
Upon my chest.
I tremble as your grace presses into my
Existence. I ask,
Come to me, at last.
Fully enlighten this minds darkest corners.
At last! You have arrived.
As I hear the songbirds sing.
I hear our song, I sing. I rejoice within.
I hit repeat.

I want to absorb your being into me
 if I could I would
take your flesh
 your path
your journey
every moment you've seen
every inch
I am the water
 I move quickly

as I stand In this River bed
 I feel the miles of it
before this point of it.
I see the pressure
 pushed through these
rocks.
 the water moves slowly
 here
 she trickles.
though her power is not reduced
she shapes and molds
what she must.
 standing

In this Rivers bed
I feel the heat above my head
 and I feel the waves crashing
 into my mind.
The break of the waters path
As she learns to notice mine.
I AM just standing there,
And we intertwine.

as I stand In this River
I realize water moves quickly
and always cleanses in time
 percolating through the Earth
 toxins are made here too

And I'll walk the water home
back towards the Sun
 and bring my friends along
Breaking through
Time and distance

And just trusting
My song.
It's being fine tuned, the
Melody of my heart.

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.

Im at capacity
Shifting of space must take place
For me to be ready for more of you.
I wish to feel all your parts,
So I make room.  
You have faith in me,
I feel you.
Your grace are the arms that embrace me now.
Your wisdom is my guide
I listen.
My feet dragging a bit,
Though I know you're right.
New moments arrive, I will be found smiling.

inches it seems made
strides make, steps itty bitty
constantly forward

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

the blissful kiss
of the truth
is so hard to miss.
I sit and I reminisce how divine
that moment tasted.
I ask for another drip...

the kiss, of what is,
the graceful wisp of
what is,
the golden ray beaming down.
the lighter blues hinted with
a spot light.
I sit and I remember it,
how it felt upon my lips
and how my heart ached for more.

my heart got a glimpse
of pure love, again.
I know at birth I witnessed it,
and at death, each moment in between
these, it seems to be here too.
well, I actually know it is.
I've kissed

the love of what is.
all of it.
what this is. its a pureness so few
can ignore, fewer tend
to barely hear a sound.
we are clouded by loud thoughts
and culture.
though its in every one of our
moments. this bliss

we miss it.
this fire lit in our bowels,
this passion for breath,
and ***,
and children,
and death.
we miss the nature of things
and its divine imprint on our
beings.
we miss kissing,
the faint blissfulness of what is.

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.

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.

Today I met a girl.
Her stance was America is not
For Donald Trump.
America is embracing all the differences,
As the sign read above.
We accept all creeds and colors.

Another stepped up and
Asked what was being spoken
And this young girl said,
The hatred of Trump.

I stopped her in her speech
To correct my conversation.
Hate is not something I send into creation.
She smiled and said well you know
I said no.
I love him as we just discussed.

And here is why we truly suffer.
Why we keep reliving another's story.
Primarily we look for what we don't see.
Secondly we accept based on the
Physical reality.

These two things can create
Mass confusion.
If we desire to have a system
Ran by humans
That are not of the isms,
Guess what love, it starts with you.

Trump just had the guts and the team energy to tell it as it is.
And trust the majority of us are good.
We want to love and accept one another.
Don't be fooled.
Though we accept based on the matter
And although it's what we use
Our love comes from us.
From within. Our true burn is to create
Again and again.
We lust to give.

This next year is a blessing.
The reflections are a lesson,
One we all want.
One we all need.
One I need your help to sprout.

Love unconditionally.
Assist in the upgrade.
Lean in. Enforce yourself,
Your friends, strangers.
Reach your span.
We got this, as time does again
And again and again. ..

We go around again and stretch
Our core.
We strengthen our limbs
Reconnecting hands,
Reminding each other
It's within. .. the answers are within.

Be clear, rise above the low vibrations.
Go within.  Learn self love.
Learn to forgive.  To love again,  anyways.
Trumps goals will be accomplished.
And our message will be carried on the wind.

Amazon like air
Moist, warm and enveloping
Taste ancient knowings

they way the brain works
if one of us can do it,
we all can.
that means we all can
echolocate.

have you seen the story?
young man born blind
learns to see
using echolocation

learn to see.
that's why perception is so valid.
why experience is so scared.
why our messages are necessary.
we can learn to see,
what we choose
and the truth.

the truth of origin
has to lay within
me
and you.
we are parts of the whole -
shattered glass pieces
will never become plastic.
that's how I see
It.

To be a simple observation…

we are only
observationally connected
here.
within the atmosphere of our beings
we speak the tongue of essence.

as I peered through the
crystal clear lens
I recognized the tiny protective hairs
and the curve of the lid.
I was amazed that this
perspective
was new.
I wondered when I would
see it again.
and I wonder and I wander.
because that's what the brain does
when its not echolocating,
or meditating.

illusionary cultural beliefs
accepted and embraced as personal
truths
have desensitized our
senses.

commonly, the senses
are rounded into five.
though echolocation would obviously be
six,
vibration communication
seven,
the list goes on…


eyesight is indescribable.
Thanks! be given to the power to see.

so many have "bad" eyes.
recent technologies like
Lasik
are changing that though.
who needs echolocation anyways?

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

its a full moon tonight.
many will watch it in earnest,
wishing upon its light.

enjoying its momentary visit,
the way the evening is lit.
brightly, you see plants different.
the green is seen.

two AM in Europe now.
and they watch the full moons show.
we supposedly see reflections of it,
in the middle of the day,
of the full moon, we are seeing some
reflection "on the other side of the world".
while the glow is admired time zones away.

"its why iii love the moon".
its basic in what it says.
its communication is visual.
things are not as they seem to be,
the magic we are searching is out tonight.

my body pulses as I wait.....
reunion taking place. my energy
bubbles with anticipation.
your touch is soon to be here.
I smell the scent.

Everything I thought I wanted
Is right here,
Particularly when the sun
Is making such a comeback,

And the lilac engorged
With purple has recovered
From its severe pruning,
And you will be back soon

To dispel whatever it is
That overtakes me like leaf blight,
Even on a day like this. I can still
Hear remnants of the rain

In the swollen stream
Behind the house, in the faint
Dripping under the eaves,
Persistent memory.

And all the things I didn't think
I wanted, cut like the lilac back
To the root, push up again
From underground


Linda Pastan - Traveling Light c2011, Norton

It seems that
Pisces is known to dream.
Most of our other characteristics
Are left alone.
Our true home of comfort
Among you all
Is not known
Outside our tribe.
We truly feel you all.

Though it seems that dreamers
Are how you see us.
How you’ve come to deal with
Our secrets.
The way we transform,
Mold, bend, adapt to each
Stage. We’ve been a round,
I’m sure more.

It amazes me what circles put out.
Round and round, energy gained.
Stored for later use
Yet the pisces goal is attained
Through service.
**** US!
It’s an uphill battle
To get us to rise.
The energy for vertical
We rather spend dreamin.

Nearer the center of us,
Of our creation. Our home.
The energy rests, charged highly feminine
Highly creative.
Preparing to birth.

Near this point of One,
Where the explosion took place,
Where the energy to create begins again.
Here we arrive from a womb.
Emerging into reflection.

Here the Mothers love is experienced.
Here you see what unconditionally smells
Like.
Here you begin to see why all must be.
Well, as it is, always.

Here the womb births ALL,
And here we rest with our SELF.
None can give to the source of itself.
To take is indeed a fallacy too.
Mothers unconditionally love their
Children. And near You, she's dedicated.

To our time to witness,  she's pleasured
By our stance . She tells us to rest,
And stand, ride until you glide,
And have fun.
When it's your turn to rebirth,
Trust I will be the one to call you in,
Close to my bossom
And we will release, exhale and reunite.

All is well. Trust in the magic of love.

I know what the caged bird feels, alas!
When the sun is bright on the upland slopes;
When the wind stirs soft through the springing grass,
And the river flows like a stream of glass;
When the first bird sings and the first bud opes,
And the faint perfume from its chalice steals--
I know what the caged bird feels!

I know why the caged bird beats his wing
Till its blood is red on the cruel bars;
For he must fly back to his perch and cling
When he fain would be on the bough a-swing;
And a pain still throbs in the old, old scars
And they pulse again with a keener sting--
I know why he beats his wing!

I know why the caged bird sings, ah me,
When his wing is bruised and his ***** sore,--
When he beats his bars and he would be free;
It is not a carol of joy or glee,
But a prayer that he sends from his heart's deep core,
But a plea, that upward to Heaven he flings--
I know why the caged bird sings!

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?

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!

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.

we walk along the edge,
bodies lay, scattered, mangled,
leaves.
we notice tire marks in the mud,
the rains last week weeped on this scene.

the concrete feels meek,
ready to bust. feet upon its back
too much. the scores of energy
pulsing up naturally relax its stance.
the plants find single slits of space
and reach for the sun.

the land prepared to bake in the sun
with bodies of friends, slowly breaking
down. life released into the air.
we breath it in as we approach the mesquite.
we knew from glances ahead
her home was raided.
we come to find the ground shaken,
dug up, ripped with a force to ****.
she is gone and her team of nourishing cousin
are too.
none survived the pillage of the
big white truck.

bodies, leaves, roots, blood of kin
poured into her skin, charging now.
the final message is,
rebirth! alive!
my eyes fill, my heart sighs.
the dark skies claim their victory.
the black fate of new.
all must return to her womb
and live again. i return to her womb
to live again.

we say prayers over our friends
and celebrate the time they had.
days before we were working with them,
right here, amongst living, breathing
beings of the light.
we harvested,
stored bits of their coding.
hoping their roots survive the assault.

in the city, we live cloudy visions,
manicured horizon, the eye shines
bright away from the skyline.
that night eye is watchful and we see
the life walk alongside.
we see the stars slowly twisting clockwise,
we know all the vibrations have been here,
before and will always prosper.
we reenter and the movements get
harder to see.
soon the night lights are on,
we are defecating in our water
and mass murdering healing beings.
and yet they still believe in us.
still grow for our shot at life.

at the very least,
they died knowing my children and i.
they died knowing they were seen and
recognized.
and the block moves on swiftly.
we end our survey and we see
survivors! a small patch of community.
the roots all sing and stretch to
send these beings energy,
love,
attention.
look, a new bud is forming.

Its national poetry month
2 years ago i wouldnt
Have called myself a poet.
2 years ago i would have
Spoke it, wrote it, though
Never claim poet.
Angelou raised me, to
Feel compared to her
Was never aligned with me.
To be called a poet, was beyond me.

Then it happened,
A shift took place,
And I heard that my voice
Is my poem, my poetic embrace.
My pure thought is the poem.
The universal love poem
Of us, of what is.
So I know I AM a poet.

So I write it.
My voice.
The one no one knows
Yet is their own.
The prior One.
The comfortable One.
My home.

This place, my heart dwells, it longs
To rest again.
To be re-strained through
This sieve of us.
To elect to rest, just a moment more.
Unless my children call,
Ill return.

Though the quest feels near
Its return. The hero heart
Feels awoke.
Dragons slayed, battles won...
Only to find me again.
Bare, alone, aware of One,
Yet alone. Prepare for
Redefinition.
Change, evolution.
Only to find me again.
Bare, alone,

Aware of One.
And my poem moves along,
And I write to move my thoughts
Along. The mind gets sticky
Tough, thoughts like glue.
Though, when I release
Its gone. Not the love,
The incessant thought fog,
Registering all my eye sees.
Sifting through the pieces of me.

And You. All I know is I miss you.
And the embace of your dance.
The hold of your hand.
I dig deeper yet,
And we meet again in my heart.
Aware of our heart. I feel the beat,
I tune and take heed.

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.

My heart seems to know
Longing for your breath in mine
Your wings wrap my frame

systems of speed warp things,
time changing in the winds.
tracks left, evolving steps
plodding along the face of space
prepared to capture enough
speed, and move beyond here.

systems of fear hold us here,
keep us bound to this ground
and trapped by Earths atmosphere.
11.2 to escape this sphere, systems of speed
break down, right there.
at that moment, as we push through
our protective layer,
the magnetic barrier,
the northern southern balance, mirrored equators,
at that moment, matter releases its grip,
its clench, freeing the mind.

travel becomes light and free
speeding between the unseen,
force through the movement forward,
onward, upward. punching through
the barriers of the sky.
fly high guys, fly...

being me comes with repercussions.
I can now laugh at them.
Younger they hurt my heart.
Though the trust is developing in self.
I keep choosing a path that gives me
what I need.
I feel crazy sometimes, though I know
everything is ok.

Sometimes my writing is weak and
my choices bleed.
Recently they've been so cloudy.
I am ready to see clear again.
The distractions of the world are plenty.
I just want to do my work.

I want to get back to this work.
Focus in on the work.
the plants lead the way.
I know I can trust them.
I do not know what just happened
though I trust it was just.
it was a must.
I hold each moment in this embrace.

I wish to race home.
allow my body to relax.
to be healed.
accepting of things.
allowing some time to pass.
valued mostly a healthy home.
my heart continues to moan and
call loud. patience for the time.
moments to know.
I know this soul will feel the bond of One.

I know one will appreciate all of me.
one will lead me through my dark spaces.
hold my hand down the path.
knowing who is within.
feeling the desire to heal.
needing my trail, wanting more than
the idea of me.

all these moments, they prepare me
for the one that my smile gets big again.
when I feel it within, I will be ready to deal
with it then.
ready to step again into the moments that
have yet to come.

2017 brings the energy of the 10.
The energy that birthed me.
That in and out weave.
This new cycle bends the laws of the 10.

This power surges within.
An awareness of creation
That speaks from my soul.
The layers here are often misunderstood,
The 1 and the 0 whisper softly.
They interplay, the wombs receive.
They create time again.
Tentative aligned with another number.
Intention rests in the 10.

With this round I plan to write it
All out.
Commit to getting them all out.
Releasing my I upon you all.
Feeling no time to stall,
Moments in need of definition,
Times call.
It's just so loud.

I wondered for years would I tune in.
My quest has been found.
This truth is the point of vision
From here.
Nothing sound to question now.
Darker notes lightened,
Time feels well spent,
Days empowered to crown.
Days given, with gratitude.
Knees spent for the courage of
The opposed foes. The moments of lows.
Thanks be given to the brave souls
That answer those calls.
Though, they too rise.

And I ask for giveness from you,
To give me the grace I need to affect you.
It's my truth too.
Our divine dance.
At last! The words break through.
I chose to heal seeps into the realm.
Infects the system.
These words must come out.
Release them.

tiny piece of lint
was my imprint at birth.
She named me
the most insignificant piece
of it... the lint in the corner of your pocket.

held close, near the warmth of the thigh.
secure, protected.
little piece of lint.

the challenge with it
is that I have always felt it.
insignificant.
humility has been my blanket.
it has protected me from the
fingers reaching in to grab hold
of coins and other pocket stuff.
that dark corner down there,
where the blue piece of lint rests.
wash after wash, the water only
beats it.
forms a perfect ball. the sides never
stop. the cycles maintain.

the challenge is I still feel this.
insignificant.
I always will.
I see what I am a part of.
I feel the magic of it.
that background buzz, humming...
yes..... I hear it.
my perspective just one tiny
bit of it. little pocket lint.

significance rests there.
in each piece of it.
the wind only exists
because of the other tiny bits.
this is the delicate bliss.
the kiss.
this awareness.
feeding from its passion to be
because it is.
it is repetitive in nature, though
what I see is. It just is.
and it creates. it extends.

I expand into your hand
and you free me.
you release me from the dark corners
and set me free. to be la nita.
to grow by attracting energy.
with the right charge, a lint ball
can exchange electricity!

my tears burn some nights,
they purge the energy of the day.
though I was built this way,
molded and shaped for it.
flexibility to change is key,
until that day. and in between
I've now seen,
my responsibility is to just be me, my imprint.

we are in a
vibrational harmony.
you and me,
and I guess we've always seen
our potential for a perfect musical.

from day one our
well executed
destiny
pulled on all the right
strings. you saw me
I welcomed you.
the call was answered.
we relaxed into the process
embracing each moment.

separation was also.
messages are hidden in the
oddest of places
so roads less traveled
are necessary too.
you were never far from my heart.
my thoughts were
being distracted by stuff.
our love, though,
had since experienced a perfect tune.

when reconnected the music just plays

the ocean ripples and waves and
you ride along with me.
your protective layer cautious
of my intention.
my spider web like
layer
scanning for signs of distrust.
my brain was wired
to check for holes
and pressure results.
aw the credence of science…

we are not a subject, though.
we are the object.
forever tuned
vibrationally.

if ascension was what I desired
I'd have it.
flying is a spiritual habit,
I've always seen it from that
perspective.
I'd probably lose interest quickly
the complexities plainly for me to see.
the virginity finally captured and free.

I'm bound to this Earth, now.
a rebel for the dirt.
the chatter of the underworld mostly
unheard.
her poems I search for, I scour her
hoping, my heart aching for the time.
that ryhme that sings to me.

no, ascension is not for me.
no cloud soaring for this Pisces.
I swim with the salmon upstream.
dodging the attacks, GMO free, constantly
reminding the other halves of me
to not fall for the foolishery,
those pellets that they feed in
the nursery, they changed our genes
long ago.
though, all must come to the light.

and yes the light calls me, home,
the embrace of never alone.
nestled among the smells I know.
it's time will come,
and we will make love for the days, then walk.

until the moment right before
that manifest is destined,
the point before full submission,
I will let the LOVE
of the heavens fill me up to my brim,
right to my breaking point.
then you will be there,
smiling, prepared with me
to release our scales... harmoniously
and earn our wings.
we will fly home free,
work for this cycle complete.

I've always been told I had a big head
like literally
a five-head
my head and my feet
the rest of me took some time to catch up
after the race, I can now breath

in grade school they would ask me
to move my big head
so they can see the black board
since we grew up with jokes
in our pocket
it never hurt
though it did help me realize
I have a big head

my mama does too
and her two other kids
and my kids
I think its our heal-her
lineage
showing up in cranial size
we all have a message
I choose healing (if choice is real)

change over time
is a guarante,
this, and death,
everything else you must wait
to see play out
the patience that takes
makes some of us
go insane
but we wait anyways
until the day

Alaase is my muse.
I believe we have been evoked
with the power
to change over time.
I create myself
time and time again.
the layers are too thin
my nails are too long
obviously they will fade

or be stripped … I got hungry, so I scream
Marley says
"why can't we roam (oh)
there's open country
oh
why can't we be what we wanna be
we want to be free"
many of my ancestors were enslaved
in chains
I imagine their thoughts
their faith
that kept them alive
on that journey over the lake
I know we are of deep understanding
and of people who knew they
are not this body…
so I imagine they prayed
and meditated mostly
until they got hungry
then they screamed
and turned around
in feces

Ase young minds

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.

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...

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 one
Let’s see…

Tall dark and handsome, please…
Brilliant.
Aware of the fraud of success.
Open heartedness.
Honest. Totally honest.
Conscious.
Strong, in arms and chest.
Courageous!
Studious, patient.
Warm and welcoming
In the oddest of
Situations.
Fluid yet stern in stance.
Bold yet quietly impresses.
Lion and Lioness
Capability of holding me
Securely. Tightly, loosely,
Freely.. encouraging free.
Right there beside me.
Right here.

He, I see now the pull.
That tug to He.
Its you.
The divine energy of the
Light of the womb.
Its you, in form.
The magnificent,
Heaven sent adorned with
Structures of Gods.
Its you.

Its your space I await to feel
Pressed against.
The essence you emit.
The presence you elicit.
The delicate tracing of your lips
I will know them as soon as we kiss
And before, I will notice
The form. The shape, the way
Your teeth show through.
It will all come back as soon
As I see you.
You will see me, I promise
That day, you will see me.

What more, she said to get it out…

The one,
Competitive with no one,
Except his self.
Compassionate to healing
Trusting of women.
A tree lover, hugger…..ehhh
… for sure a lover.
And can swing an ax if
Its cold and winter.
Problem solver and
Negotiator.
Maybe an Aquarius…
I want a writer,
A poet, a singer.
I want a hard worker.
I want the one to see
Me.
When he hears me
He knows he’s heard his call.
The voice calls him in
And we swim, diving deep within
Spending hours
Divulging our souls.
Testing for qualms.
Adjusting for changes in the future.

The near future, he will walk right up to me
He will ask me my name
And we will speak as friends.
And we will grow naturally,
As it happens time and time again.
Ours a slow and steady end.

mining my jewels
tapping into a new field
one undisturbed
one layered for this time.

tunneling through each.
permeation of the rocks and such.
traveling deeper into my core.
burning my oil.
releasing its essence to be free.

being my own resource.
charging my self.
internal viewpoint is path
of least resistance.
trusted, tested, outlasted.
looking within, depending on she.
trusted, tested, outlasted.
confidence in my stance, here.

planting seeds, watching others grow.
sprouting using stored energy,
moments waiting to be.
infinity and, still too...
moments of me... as I search for you.

that grace of the waves
that smell, of energy being made.
charged, welcome, at last
home is recognized.
the resource.

I've got to get good with electricity.
its coursing through me.
I am a novice in self awareness,
generating waves that are
confirming all of this.

Yes, I see it, too.

as I went to part with you
our fields got the clue.
sent me right back to you.
directly at your feet,
prepared to serve the needs
of my time.

regardless of me. my perspective
still too slim, tunneled, weak.
needing still more energy to charge.
interesting balance, me and peace.

for me, peace is in the trees,
free.

the call is too deep…
coursing, electrically,
forcing focus externally,
temporarily, while the energy
surges, magnetizes
and revitalizes the mass around me.
temporarily though, because my feet need to be free.
of attachment to now, to me, even to peace.
the free of the breeze, moving
when and where I please.
theres open country waiting for me…I must sing my song.

rebels music,
the vibrations of the tongue.
all night long I call to you,
and too at the break of dawn,
you stir within my spine
demand me to sit up straight and
do the work.

the words start to bleed, I will be free...

I will just keep writing
as it opens a door for sharing.
the hearts wanting, the minds
constant watch. protecting the heart song.
she's too loud,

explode forced air, that stare
the contact within.
she bares the scalp,
get some circulation up there.
prepare for the next round.
the pour down,
fulfillment found. the cups abundance

minds found, ground covered
though miles abound.
my hearts call loud, and the times
are being seen through ancient eyes.
the lies all fall apart as One is realized.
sacrificed, white flag flying type. submittal
to my self.
trust my sight, it stretches the net
and captures just outside the entangled mess.
like fishing the sea
trying to capture those pieces of me,
as they flow out

and infect.

and if the best of me wasn't what I give,
if I didn't need to feel this to live,
I would sulk within and wish my self home.
since young these days have been confusing
always right outside the embrace of love.

experience is the basic instant
yet we are not it.
mine have been hell bent on pressing intention.
like theres just no other way to it.
the explicitness of my days, of my pain.
I AM just outperformed it.
so basic, and my pain only prepared me
for it. Oh I give thanks to bear witness.

to the darkness, and the light it births
religious.

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...

Ive never been in to selecting pain.
naturally not
a woman that chooses to suffer.
three times birthing another,
the transition so temporary,
this pain I sit in.

the tension in relations
though
have always been my escape.
from here, your mind seems so far.
confuses me naturally
as I want to just understand who you are.
why… the attraction, the singular pull
to you.

you hold back, intentionally
because you choose too.
and I see, I see….
I just cannot reciprocate.
nor relate. my heart grows in your absence.

I may know its just practice,
my heart whispering, just practice
the dance of give and take, of
patience.
just allow what is, in this very moment.

so in this moment, an apple tree winks at me
the crimson art show reminds me
my garden grows slow as fall peaks
the ground still alive.
in this moment the air breathes
she embraces me, tells me she loves me
for you.
she knows its what I need.
to hear I Love You keeps me here,
free to keep doing my work,
the LOVE calling me home…
I longing to answer.

my suffering always related to love.
its where I choose, repeatedly,
to embrace pain for the heart.
I can stand in the rain and
receive the downpour of You.
at night, when it dries
I sit in deep thought...

my virgo is rising
the star self conflicted
by water and earth.
knowing what it is to flow
and to stand ones ground,
open to change over time
as the river beats the rough edges down
to dust…
molding the strict rules of dirt.

ultimately
things will be.
I will finally see, the questions settled.
you will still be there,
either consciously next to me
or off on your journey.
ultimately, I will be free
of the need to have anything that keeps me
here, interested and invested in now.
you keep my mouth, my heart, my mind
here,

now I will move to the next moment.
holding thought of you close.
wishing you were right here
so I can read this to you.
so I can press my lips upon you,
and whisper my whole self to you,
and you, the first…

the chance to not be misunderstood.

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.

Some inner me...
You see this self value thing
Is absurd for this pisces.
It's based on the ego.
Since I was quite young i knew
All was the same.
My heart felt the same
For most I met.
There are a few who's energy
Instantly sets a tone.
Though, even then I see the gold.

It's because my soul knows
And communicates with me
That only loving me, is lunacy.
I am of a whole.
Love must be unconditionally.
Universally, regardless of what unfolds.
I must love you regardless...

That means no harsh words,
I apologize for those.
They exploded from my core,
That pitch black gut forced out
Low vibing soul.
Though I also felt these things were true...

Coming back around,
This whole thing is true.
We are pieces of one.
To focus on self love is blinding.
Overly valuing my talents
Holds little weight for me.
I know I am one of many.
Of us all.
I have faith each one can do
As anyone else can.
I have faith in all of you,
And me too. We progress.

I do undervalue this piece of WE though,
I have to.
Most cannot see this clearly
And find it a weakness.
Though its my path.
My victories will be for the masses.
For all I can touch with my energy.
I will maintain an infection of
Unconditional love for as long as my
Breath lulls. That sweet beat.

I love me. Just not more than you.
And I am thankful to see clear.
This is where you find my self love.

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

I awoke one morning
And every morning since
The changes have grown intense, steady, softer.
Ever since those vibrations went coursing
Through my spine,
The neutral path has become enlightened
And my path relaxes in its groove.

Moving confidently towards you.
Trusting each step,
Only asking for what I truly desire.
Accepting nothing less.
Grateful for awareness
And my choice to do my best.

I will only ask for what I truly desire,
I will keep the One in my best interests.
My vision is clearly becoming reality,
Current steps creating it.
Watching my muscles flex as my sole
Touches down.
Getting nearer yet, karma repays debts
In code.
Heart knows it's path,
Riding the waves of my destiny manifest.

Nina
sing a song for me.
**** a tune for me. drum bamboom for me.
Nina, sing to me.
reset with me. 432 for me.
I hear you.

Nina I hear you
singing… your words are
quiet plainly the beauty of the cords
strummed for me. or, at least it seems.

Nina, you are singing to me.
I hear you calling, me.
taunting my harmony,
plucking my keys, you and Jean.
Nina, what is it you see?
What is it I am to see?

the music of things,
I can feel the planets moving.
circling, looping. the air whips
the curve of my lips and stuns me.
it arouses me, induces screams of love.

silently, inwardly, slowly releasing into the vine.
stretching my fingers individually,
stroking the strings,
getting good at things,
Nina sings to me,
and I feel good.