MOTHER:
Could you take out the trash?


DAUGHTER:
I will in like, five or ten minutes, I'm finishing an email to a friend.


MOTHER:
I'd rather you do it now. I'm in desperate need to feel like there's control and order in my life since these sudden feelings or powerlessness within my own life have surfaced again.


DAUGHTER:
This seems to be a regular occurrence with you Mom.
Why not consider therapy?


MOTHER:
I'd rather make up another excuse instead of  admitting you might be on to something because of two reasons. The first being that I resent the fact someone younger than me, which is code for someone who I perceive doesn't have much life experience, is suggesting something about my life. The second and much more important is that I'm a coward that would rather hide from my fears than face them.


DAUGHTER:
It's frustrating to me because I perceive there are easy solutions to these obstacles but you'd rather wallow in your suffering. Sometimes I think you'd be happier with a gun in your mouth
if you weren't so petrified of death. Hi Dad.


FATHER:
I'm ignoring everything. Making a b-line toward my office where I can drown my sorrows in cheap whisky and work
because of my cancerous self-loathing in perception
for not living up to an outdated model of achievement
as set for by my parents and their parents.


MOTHER:
It fills my heart with a melancholic rage because you're not letting me lean on you to feel better about my own self esteem issues
since I rely on everyone else to build up my confidence.  


DAUGHTER:
This touches my raw nerve heartstrings because I used to have self-confidence issues that I never felt comfortable sharing with anyone until after therapy and years of meditation.
Now I feel partially responsible in a slightly self-righteous way
that I should try and help both of you even though you two don't seem to want to help yourselves.


FATHER:
I'm much too busy dwelling on the past.


MOTHER:
I resent that and don't understand why you're not anxiously brooding on the future like me.


DAUGHTER:*
I'm going to take the trash out because I feel obligated to do so even though I'd rather finish my email. I will resent this for a few hours until I calm down into a pool of serenity thanks to my meditation practice. I'm also taking the trash out because extended conflict makes me uneasy and I'd rather compromise my own individuality and boundaries to make all of this end even though I realize this is perpetuating these cycles of conflict.

PROLOGUE:
a large, ancient native american tribe used to practice tending the light;
a fire pit in a temple village elders say contained the first flame,
here the fire was fed, and loved, usually the only source of brightness
the smokey orange glow would roar
all the time from dusk to dusk, from every moon to every sun,
always burning generations after generation,
considered one of the highest honors to be tasked with tending the sacred flame. But like all things, one day it went out.

I)
Eons slipped by.
Darkness, thick brooding mists
with intermittent, iridescent flashes.
Most people slept.
Few unabashedly watched,
mesmerized by the brightness,
caught glimpses of sacred rhythms.  


II)
Heartbeats synced--
the awakened ones linked arms,
wandered into the void,
toward
the  
( ( (source) ) )


                    **III)      
            Sounds
                             r              
               s      r     o       ed
             u            nd

them
wrapping around like a crystalline ivy.
vibrating bodies buzzzzzzed fuzzzzzzzzzy love.
glistening liquid amethyst crystals trickled from eyes.


IV)
Silence.


V)
They returned
with different faces,
every inch of skin vibrated
=ancient symphonies=
their chests glowed psychedelic explosions
of mellifluent wind chiming colors.
Dancing and humming awoke others.

VI)
Soon, more hearts & bodies swooned,
swooping cartwheel rainbows blooming like lilacs in June
light
<<ignited>>
from the darkest crevices
dissolving shadows and silhouettes
connecting all like mushrooms talk
the blindness gone
acquiesced to songs
of connection through breath, heartbeat, ground and life.


VII)
Bliss again,
the world burns like a roaring ******
of warm flame.

I hope that one day
everyone in the world has
had Stendhal syndrome.

In the beginning there was the word
and the word eventually volved into millions
and now we talk with flagrant disregard
meanings are lost in definitions
and we no longer honor the words
that have brought us this far.
Well today that stops as I invite all
to honoring the 8 sacred words.

These are the words groked after birth
inherently transparently giving us our worth,
these words are why we are here on this earth;
Feel, Dream, Creation, Faith, Learning, Light, Being and Love.

  (1)
Feel
The real deal, the one that dictates what you perceive as real, a double entendre for the body and mind, covers the basic five and the infinite emotional responses. Such nuances to each like how the olfactory assists with memory like that time I was makin' golden fluff pancakes and hominy with my Aunt and Uncle getting ready for  Sunday School at a grueling five in the morning.
I still remember mourning Grandma Ruth at my first funeral.
Certain feelings are hard, if not impossible to explain, like when a painting or movie moves you to tears, I still get choked up watching Jimmy Stewart in Harvey.
But still I remember the feeling when this girl ran some ice down my spine for the first time. Now imagine being blind-folded as the cold slowly melts and the drips trickle down and the only sound you hear is her breathing and your heartbeat as she monotonously drags the chill down Yeah, I know you feel me on that one now.
That's the power Feeling can bring about
touching our most primal basic instincts to the intricate emotions someone brings upon your being when they sing that song that gets you every time.  

(2)
Dream
A powerful word. They can change people and things, just ask one Dr. Martin Luther King.  

   (3)
Creation
Regardless if it's the idea for the Iphone or baby makin, all life originates at creation.
It's why all are god,
why we all got this reason to be
like a painter paints his wrinkled heart on the canvas,
why a poet like me let's words flow out like a dam that's broken.
Creation births ideas and people with vision, we’re all born with this fingertip power
and a joyous vibe in our voice
the brain overrides by the sacred eyes locked grinding oneness
paper to pen, fingers to guitar, man to woman
all ringing out in a deafening bliss entering this world!
Creation breeds change , ideas that shaped the way we do things
like the first aeroplane and those folks who birthed those to think of said thing.
The brain keeps spinning like the invention of the wheel,
keep thinking and dreaming cause creation is a sacred duty to continue evolving.  

(4)
Faith
Such a muddied word these days, but faith is where all beliefs originate.
I bet you believe you’ll wake up tomorrow after a goodnight’s sleep.
Even that is faith.
The fires of faith forge burning trust when hands shake
Faith is smithed to wave, but never break
And it’s hilt of hope marries the mind to the heart
Faith is NOT a shield to keep other beliefs at bay or people apart
it is inherently a bond of understanding
and accepting from all parts of one self and others through heaven or hell.

(5)
Learning
There's nothing more sacred than learning, be it about the world or yourself.
A momentary divine buzz as synapses join in realization.
Not everyone can be educated but everyone can certainly learn.

My Uncle used to say he learned something new every day, and I think that's the way it should be,
cause you don't stop learning once they hand that paper to you for graduating school, life is a classroom and we are all the teachers and students but the answers aren't simply in external digital books and slides
a lot of the answers of life can be found inside the classroom of your mind.
If I didn’t look inside I would have never realized my inability to take compliments was technically flat out rejecting kindness someone as tryin to bestow upon me.

Forgive my diatribe but I have a hard time around closed minds cause the brain's a gold mind and info is a much more powerful currency than those political carnies shuffling greenbacks under the coconut.

(6)
Light
A special, sacred word illuminating the world's mind and yours,
forget it's ability to help you find what you seek, like that time I lost my
keys under my bed after an art party or the way it startles your senses
when it first appears out of nowhere
the reason light is on this list is because you can add light to light AND darkness,
Can't ever make something more dark, it's just the absence of light, but you can always make something more bright that it blinds you even at night you can ignite a dark world
with a single flame watch it spread like wildfire then nothin's ever the same like a lightning shock to your brain illuminating your whole world cause now your paradigm has changed!

(7)
Being
Can you imagine just being? That's freedom. To be is free, free from ego judging thoughts from others and your self, free from worrying about social conventions like waiting for permission to eat because the prayer hasn't been said or taking a job because it pays well but it makes all the days melt into a blurry line. Being is now, it's living in each moment and riding that wave to the grave with no regrets. Just being present is one of the hardest things to master cause the barking past and enigmatic future keep jockeying for attention.

Like that time way back when I stiffed some friends for my part of the rent or anxiously awaiting my move to New York pondering if I should tell my parents. Being is freeing that's why I rhyme and write that's why I let my mad scientist hair sway in the wind that's why I run towards an accident that's why I always know what's happening cause I'm tappin into what's tattooed on my soul. And I know you know deep deep down who/what your being is, but it's easy to let others complicate it with expectations like continuing education after high school and labels like teacher or homeless lunatic but you gotta dig and hold on to what you know is true because being you to the fullest is all you can do.


(8)
Love

Love is.

**** it
in life.

My breath dances a foxtrot
across her island flavored skin--
coconut and passionfruit
scents grapevine together, as our
joyful heartbeats intertwine
like a hummingbird's wings in air.

Her peppermint lips embrace
my nordic, hipster bear fuzz skin--
her feline eyes sing into
my soul, our flesh folds together
like a hungry flame devours
wood, we burn into crystal ash.

In this moment,
we are all together.
In this moment,
we are healing.
In this moment,
we release our selves

Flesh bodies sizzle
cadmium red rhythms--
thunder gourdes rumble
as everyone shouts cobalt lightning!
A few stand quietly, hands
prancing in the air feeding the one
in the center of the circle a steady diet of colors.
Drums bubble & thump beat primal heart screams--
yipps & mews & prrrrr's
fill the Shipibo patterned room.

Joyous dancing scorches the floor,
tension falls away like the clothes
of lovers laying atop each other under the bed.

Here I sit,
at home amidst the somatic chaos sounds
chanting magic storm-wolf tones,
pounding away on bongos
patter-pitter jitterbug swing jungle vine jazz
as my body rocks forth and back
mountain lion paw hands tap crystals
red eagle wings flap smiles
navy ****** tail slaps bass
brown snake-eyes snap out of reality!

In this moment,
we are all together.
In this moment,
we are healing.
In this moment,
we release our selves

Her veins embue the nectar of creativity--
the euphoric taste is addicting,
and we **** every last drop
like a cigarette 'till her body withers
into ashes.

Many of artist like me are demon mosquitos
with piercing, burning fangs gnawing
on the raw juicy meat
with blood dripping down our chins
until our hunger is satisfied
& the moment is lifeless.
Even then we wrap ourselves around the carcass
like a python to squeeze out every last drop....

The bones are art, or a poem: souvenirs
to show our dominance.

I believe my parents think they're speaking for the rest of society when they tell me that
being a poet,
to live by writing
isn't financially sound.
They tell me I could not make a living doing that,
as if I am not already making a living,
as if money is needed to pump blood through my veins,
admire a cloudy cream orange sunset atop a hill
or taste the lovely chai & chocolate covered lips of an air nymph.

They tell me that if I don't get another job,
I will have no money, that I will be broke,
as if there's something to fix.

My parents, who speak for the rest of society tell me
I will be dirt poor should I not find a job and make an honest wage.
Luckily I love being with Momma Nature
in the dirt;
being grounded--
planting seeds,
occasionally smoking tree,
just seeing the transparent process of nature
as opposed to the hidden secrets we're not allowed to see
in our food thanks to the lobbyists & their poison tongues.
If that isn't enough, I fail to see what's more honest than poetry..............................

I'm told money makes the world go round,
though I fail to see how a million or even a billion paper notes and coins can push this big 'ol blue planet around the sun.

I'm told without money, society will collapse,
but I suppose it was bound to happen when you build something with such a flimsy paper thin structure.
I also remember we humans seemed to do alright until the invention of currency.

I'm told by my parents who speak for society that without money,
I am nothing, a nobody.
And well, I don't see how that can be true,
cause I'm getting to know each and everyone one of you as you are me,
and I think all my friends here and around the world would agree
that they at least know me, which means I ain't nobody.

My parents and TV tell me that without money my self worth should be zilch,
but most days I wake up feeling like a million hugs
radiating through me, around me, with me
as I see the difference I am making in the eyes of some of you today
and those I have already spoken to.

Without money, I live free,

You remind me of the living,
breathing.....  
    (  (  (s t r u g g l e)  )   )
within my mind constantly.

I can relate to your questions
and fears, outcasts' s ' sss tearss' s''s'' ' '

But there is a light,
oh man,
there is a light
so bright that will release so much energy
into this universe one day we may find ourselves
in a similar utopia. I promise you
it's there, inside you.

The answers are out there,
you're very close.
Much closer than I was at your age.

Simply believe in yourself......

We are soldiers*
of love--
all Generals in The Army of Party.
We are militants
of truth,
harbingers of peace.
We shoot
with our smiles--
spraying warm words
that feel like ****** knowledge bombs
staining your heart & brain.
We don't
leave craters & burn marks.
We're creators
of learning from the heart--
seeing with the mind.
We don't believe
in hate or love--
just vibrating to a frequency
of one conscious thought.
We don't judge
what's right or wrong--
we sing the songs of common sense.
We bring the gift
of shifting attitudes
just by listening to you.
We will always
live on despite dying everyday.
We see time
not as a line, but a rotating sphere.
We don't fight,
just accept, adapt & be.

Decisions
are prioritized

Answers*
align

The mind
is focused

I am the hunter--
emboldened by the stone's *vibration
to prey upon my indecision
and apathy.

You are strong.
I've seen this
whether it be a few months or millennia ago
you are strong.

[Today:]
[Your conscience muscles through
a jagged, physical and sandy world--
Your mind lauds
methods to set itself free--
Your body aches for
something distant but are too afraid to touch.
But you are strong]

Our earthy flesh
may be bound by certain laws
our minds are bound by none.
We have the wings
to soar beyond
because you are strong.