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AD Mullin Apr 17
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 5
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 bonds
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
AD Mullin Feb 2019
I am of vulnerability
fun and

I am of devotion
tolerance and

I am of perseverance
deviance and

I am of purging
worth and

I am of polity
me and

I am of humour
kin and

I am of the salt of the earth of the wind of the fire of the driving rain and the glaciers crevasse.

Who am I?

I am one of your tribe
and I need you tonight.
There's something about you
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