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AD Mullin Jul 2020
When the rhymes start poppin'
and the beats start flowin'
it's probably a sign that
it's time to get going
and maybe just maybe even


Now is the time
where the hero-self
starts bubbling up
its a time to start stepping
stepping into the presence
stepping out of the prison and
into heaven.
Cause it be all effervescing like:
pop, pop, pop

then I turn around to have a see
and as I am looking up and down
at the old me, well I gotta confess

I don't like what I used to be
while at the same time
I've got to admit
I love that man-boy too
cause he was me and he was you

You see, I was an egocentric
and a pretender
who was never ever ever gonna be a contender
when I realize that if I linger to long
it's my past that pulls me out of song
and I refuse to be losing ******
so let's turn back to front and centre
leg go and
just trust, trust, trust

I am getting wide awake on these energies
gonna ride these waves if you please
unless my trust is misplaced in

I figure it's time
that I unsettle my debts
from my colonization, my plebiation,
and my consternation.

The only way out seemed to be within.

Cause what's wrong with the world might be what is

So unfurled my flag
let the mystery free
raised my fist and shouted
Pleiades, Pleiades, let me hear you sing
It's time for us Man
lets bring down that sweet thing

I can't put my finger on what happened next
We've all been waiting for that
lighthouse bringer, that aetheric singer,
someone who was willing to point that finger
I just didn't think it was going to be a ginger.

Then I fell asleep and when I awoke
who was I but a medicine keeper

If I ever learned nothing from Pablo Piccaso
is that it ain't no fun living like a big *******

Just funnin' Pablo, don't take no offence
I love it how you went swinging for fence
every time you woke up
to live in the moment
but it's what you saw and
how you saw it that makes me feel
- raw, raw, raw -

As I tried to deconstruct your craft
it deconstructed me and
the only way out of the enigma
was to twist myself up into a new reality

So there I was sitting
my flag unfurled
in my missed fortune
lost in-between
feeling unseen

A look in the mirror revealed a fractured self
a person separated from his wealth
so I said **** this and went looking for health.
Written August 2019
AD Mullin Jul 2020
The clock smiled at us
as if it knew we were lost;
unable to see the path, we continued
along on the wrong side of the ones and zeroes

Tiring of our aimless float;
tiring and lost in the vacuum of our ignorance.
With all kinds of navigational aids to chart our path
we mostly relied upon the compass tattoo over our heart

Lost in the chasm of our indecision
our bodies and minds listed.
Our attempts to unpack the endless
parcels of our unrest ... proved futile

While  carefully re-learning the ABCs
and re-interpreting the Western Canon
we found that it was only by closing our eyes
that we were able to see; were able to feel.

However, the cadence was off
which was immaterial  as
our feathers were ruffled and
the rhetoric was pluming

With the overture of the new day dawning
we turned our back
on the algorithm of our demise
and shucked off the self-imposed limitation

It was thirty seconds to midnight and
the world that never seemed to want us
needed us now.
Like anemic royalty, we took flight

breathing that rarefied air and
gulping down the nuances of our resilience
to swallow our intergenerational trauma
one last time
Submitted to SAAG writing prize competition on July 1, 2019 (slightly modified version)
AD Mullin Jun 2020
My tribe is a
mingling of adjacent hues
finding harmony

My tribe is a
facet of you and me
a mashup of science and art
an education of the heart

My tribe is a
wisdom bringer
a lighthouse singer
over crimson shoals

My tribe is a
ghost dance partner
a symphonies daughter
a shield for fodder

Cause my tribe is peace
like a captainless ship
like a philosophers quip
like a
"I don't know but I'd like to get it right"
kinda trip

My tribe is yearning
curious and learning
rumbling with vulnerability
spilling over with capability

And every time we think we are there
we go a little deeper
but it isn't complicated
because my tribe is love
Written June 8, 2020 in Lethbridge, Alberta

it is not the how, it is the who and the who is you.
AD Mullin Apr 2020
living with
dying with

inflicting ~ conflicting
scarred landscapes en-
trained and eroding

pain transporting
grain by grain
those mountains re-framing
and eventually flowing
in to base level and the
Ocean of love

life without scars is anomalous
like a Sun with no aurora

perfectly imperfect
just as life is:
a beautiful reminder
of mortality
mirrored in the fluid
dance of the eternal

heaven sent or heaven spent

its never misspent
in post-recompense
morphic resonance

hold space
think about direction
wonder why
get ready to fly
Written on Mount Shasta
November 2014
AD Mullin Jan 2020
I saw the seeds of the revolution

I heard the propositions from vermi-culture
informing the shift
working it out, shrifting it out.

I surfed the micro-ripples of influence through
effectures and prefectures and
excused the old guard through heartfelt

There was only one logical conclusion so I
quietly and patiently sat in between
with all our relations.

Under the shade of old growth discernment,
I washed through the oceans of my subconscious,
sifted through the compost for kernels, and
mined the midden of wisdom.

New kingdoms arose from that which was expressed.

The raw materials were ubiquitous.
These re-building blocks pointed to
a platform for the gifting economy.

Then one day I woke up zipping around Los Angeles,
toying with a couple of keys,
Sancho Panza and me, all windmills and wizards.

With only one logical conclusion
I took a chance, learned to dance, and
bid my pretence adieu.

Unpredictably, having lost my lance, I won the war.
Now I sit upon my throne with two mats at my door.
One says presence, one says future, and
both are welcome.

Both are welcome because it is here that I found my agency within my sovereignty
through submission.
1st draft was started on December 15, 2019 @ Station Flats. I was looking SW at an awe inspiring sky. Partial re-write on April 2, 2020.
AD Mullin Oct 2019
When I write
You might see words
When I write
You might see letters
When I write
You might see space
When I write
You might see time
When I write
You might see boundaries
When I write
You might see energy
When I write
You might
AD Mullin Oct 2019
I am the poet
I have been whispering obscurities in dark corners for many years now
And i like it that way

I am dark and brooding
Obscure and abstract
And I like it that way

I am the craftsman
Allowing language to consume me
And i like it that way

I am impervious to permanence
And tire of fence sitting
And I like it that way

I am living the rhythm of symbolism so as to
Pawn it as wisdom
And I like it that way

I am the tactician step, step, stepping through
Through the abstract and on to you
And I like it that way

Having found that symbolism rhythm
I am weaning my way off words

Having found my addiction
And now feeling the friction

My addiction isn’t to words though
It’s to whispers

Through the journey from abstraction
And into the rhythm of this reality is
Where I consumed all of it
I even drank down the first person
With a perspective shift and a lime twist for gàrnish

Now it’s time to inspire
Let's put on our costumes because
Reconciling truths
Aggravates liars

And i like it that way
Read at the Owl open mic night on October 24, 2019
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