The universe speaks
and so inlaid is my awe
it feels mundane

The universe loves with unrelenting fire
such wisdom is its light
so delicately, intricately interwoven
is the force, the immensity of everything as one

and I
am but an iota
a speck on a speck
in some unknown place
in the vastness and transit
of outer space

whose voice is allocated to the insignificance of the imminence
of what slaps me in the face

and yet I'm being bombarded with divinity's infinities, subduing me
placating my aggravations and intimidations and fears and anxieties

every mirror image shown
returns me to my heart and home
reminds me who I am
that I am chosen to be me

I am shaken
my foundation breaking
tears escaping
from this love that seeks me

but I am born to be rebuilt
and I am thankful

Ascension cannot happen 
without
stepping back 
to examine one’s shadow. 


Three steps forward and one step back

is still moving in the right direction. 



To own the present moment and embrace 

without expectation or disappointment;

to integrate and elevate and validate 

in cycles of breath and breadth,

without seeking sated self in other,

is to shed dead weight.

I am free. I am free. I am free.
I have always been 
intimately, utterly myself. 


I invoke hope, and truth, 

and communion and community.

I invoke Love to flow through me. 

I am one with Truth’s Reality. 



There is no fear that binds me. 

No darkness blinds me. 

I am light shining divinely through.

I am a crystallized sun and a holographic moon.



I am the rebirth, and I am the womb.
I bloom. I bloom. I bloom.

There is no such thing as the abyss
Static, white noise, information overload
Analysis paralysis
The mind shuts down, but never squanders its supply

I am worn thin
I am overwrought and jaded
Lackluster and swooning for the mist
Yet in the midst of everything, I feel amiss
I am the nothingness that lost its place within the confines of an empty concept
Labeled the ‘abyss’
It does not exist
It is overload and darkness
Stare forever and your brain will short circuit
but leave the lens behind
Retreat into your caves and sleep
And your long exposure will reveal light
Answers
Unlabeled, mysterious and so far out of reach

I am overwhelmed
Distant
A cacophony in deep space
Choking as I gasp for air
Dying, literally dying
To be heard

But I can’t cry anymore
I can’t speak like I used to
Can’t dream at all
I am the abyss
But I am not empty
You simply cannot see beyond yourself
To know what I hold within my depths

The present moment is my happy place

and, when I step back and appreciate

all my woes and worries are erased



I’ll simulate the energy of peace

when anger and impatience ravage me

and the world seems chockfull of instability;

because, when I remember to breathe,

I don’t surrender my power to a feeling



Sometimes I find I’m faced with a choice

Life can leave me feeling as if I’m without a voice

All things appear so dull and strange

My heart, aching for a change



And I can choose to lose it;

let my rage consume and guide me

My power, when I abuse it,

unleashes pain I hide inside me



Seeking to subdue, control, or placate

is a futile effort

We must waste our energy 

to weaken what we wish to subordinate

Strength only doubles when we work together



Such is the same with one’s self

Fighting inner pain just drains 

and serves to lessen health

Nothing else remains

and one retires again to rest



I’ll step back, and take a breath,

and remember what it’s like to be at peace;

let my soft awareness spread

from in the deep of me,


and assess

with love, encouragement and patience

any problem that keeps me

from seeing beauty



Because love lives in the aching heart

-in the wandering mind

Love, is what we know, what we might find

It is why we yearn and ache

It is why we persist, in spite,

or for the sake of it



So, 
when I find that irate individual;

my mind and the world in turmoil;

when I can’t catch a break,

I can’t focus, can’t think,

I will remember love

is the nourishing thing

at the crux of being



It is the keystone 

to the doorway to new paths

of consciousness and coalescence

of presence and connection

of Love itself

Take thee, thy gaze, in wistful, mourning solitude, 

and fix it thereupon a rose in bloom 

and thou shalt see and be consumed

in thoughts of death and interlude 
betwixt
the days of haze wherethrough 

the sunlight, harsh, consumes a baking brain 

a-pulse with pain, and still estranged

in what we call “forever.” 



Yet still, become 

(thee, thy rose in waiting)

whose entreaty and retreat betrays 

the idle mind, the aching heart;

and be that bloom, that efflorescent art.



Drink in the sun and be a part 

of waking day and masterful array, 

of soul drenched verisimilitude.


Whereby the unprimed, emptied mind 

aligns with thy divine spark, 

therein lies the secret: 



It is You 

who shines, who blooms; 

who dies unto Life become again,

through strife and separation, 

Beauty and Unity, and Universe in celebration.



It is Thee, not lost, not blind, 

but free to be and free to find,

to coexist and create bliss, 

through ignorance, your every wish 

begets a kiss with the intimate infinite.



A declaration of innocence, 

of birth, and Truth, 

and Love returned to It.



You are Sight.

Light seeing Light being.

Light Being, 
shining through the Night. 


Divine thing, 
hold tight.

It will be alright.

It seems
I cannot beckon God;
I must remain bewildered

Starry eyed and dreaming
breathing in the mist
with a heavy brain and
all contained within me

Exasperated sighs, relief
such constant bemusement
coloring my senses
tantalizing me with curiosity

I am
caught up
in the searching
unearthing precious gems

Seeing the light through prisms
catching glimpses of the truer forms
whereby reality should turn itself over
lending itself to nought by
superimposed, extant, extradimensional
realities

The shifting, everchanging constant
the fractalline reversal
of the overlay we deem as our precision
yet own as our perception

There is no finding God
It will not come to me
For, without what is not
within was what had been
there is no removal
such, as there is no retrieval

Which way is up in empty space

No weight can bring me down
cause I can lift it!
I’m working out now
and I’ll be bliss-ripped!

Any time I feel heavy
I’m dancing on my feet!
If I must shoulder the weight of the world
I just need more to eat!

Cause I’m getting shredded in my levity,
and happiness is in me.
I’ll do push ups with mountains on my back
and fly with boulders on my feet!

I’m laughing cause this energy
would try to weigh me down.
In my faith and synergy
I have the strength for leaps and bounds.

I’m realizing now that Love is training me
to be a force for good and light,
and flow with Truth eternally.

My gratitude will build me up!
I’m already aligned!
For, every challenge I might face
is a lesson given from the divine

i hear the call of crows and smile
always they are synchronized with my thoughts
always gently prodding at the shell of my greater awareness
the barrier of contemplation and understanding,
that keeps me ******* thin
from letting the world in

and the sable feathered angels
speak in rhythmic humming
saying, in some way

"look here!
listen! hark!
the chiming bells ring!
the song of heaven sings,
it floats in
upon the wind!

feel it cascading
over you.
feel the alignment
of the microcosm
you call home.

a chain reaction,
engulfing you
in waves
of connectivity.

let these
paper thin membranes
dissolve.

you have already
permeated the skin;
to light
you are transparent."

i'm always seeing hearts in my coffee cup
the moon, a brain, jupiter in the days of the great conjunction
my lapis always seems to disappear,
slipping through the veil, into different worlds
i wonder, if i ever find those pieces
what energy they will carry through to me

it must be marvelous

in the past, some days
i'd wake up in another world
deja vu
much the same
but shifted
mirrored
a tad bit left
playing tricks on my eyes
rewriting memories
but never quite
fooling the soul

a universe within a universe
within a universe within a molecule
within that shard of glass
from the cup you dropped on the ground

and oh well
you'd be better off just pitching it
it's not as if your infinite
strings of copies will feel
the ripple effect of the impact
in a place where gravity is so alien

and anyway it's happening
]]]]]accordion[[[[[
over endless mirrors
squashed together

time is a fickle thing
and in your soulful wandering
you might find information
is condensed in endless
p
r
  i
   s

t
inemoments

shrunk or stretched over
myriad material multitudes
in densities you slip through
never keeping track of what is processed
or abandoned in the phantom pools
of time's slipstreams

in this part of the poem,
i am imbuing words
with the power
of peace and love

if you're able,
drink that in with your eyes
there's an infinite supply

if you've ever decided you didn't need shoes
and stepped into the grass
congratulations! you are now cuddling with
an ancient goddess

try making yourself heavy
to ease into the energy of gravity
and if you're ready
you might bleed into her bounty

then, deep breath!
shake it out
do that thing where
you make your cheeks wobble
it's like pbbldd

that should wake you up
prime your mind for inhaling nature's
peace and loving kindness

you can talk to trees
by humming
in the heart
and pushing that fibrous
energy out the throat chakra

they will reciprocate
by helping you to slow down
and show you how gradually life grows
it's quite relaxing

every different spot along the spine
corresponds to a different singing sigh
a high pitch, for the head, and eye
and a low flowing moan
for the roots
we know as home

hum the spectrum
and let yourself feel silly
spirit willing
that laughter
will heal your heart

...i love you

Into this inseparable, ineffable haze I gaze.
My thoughts are fogged but I find ways
To describe the pain and turn a phrase
From what is waning in my mind

To make it blaze and use that fire
To shine the way through this dismay
I've been contained in all along

A pain in the chest
corresponds with a thought
which responds to the heart
clarifying:

“I do not condone evil
but embrace the many selves within
the reality of self diverging.

There is no seat of self;
no place where being rests.
There is flowing, growing,
expanding forever
in reiteration.”

The elusive mystery
that’s split so I can see
with both eyes.

The merging
of the heart
within the mind.

To feel,
a bubble round the brain
containing memories
of souls sustained,
in ethereal suspension.

To think,
in cognizant alignment
with the heart,
acting upon pulse
and impulse.

Creating resonant sounds;
echoes upon
the proverbial mountain range.

Mirrors mirroring mirrors;
with an inward breath, a deeper drink;
to sink within the soul,
and feel the whole, instilled in stillness.

To be, through becoming
in dialogue diverging;
the everflow bestowing
presence amongst transience.

I am All as I am Nothing.
A seeing thing, believing
that the tapestry is me;
the shifts becoming being,
illusory.

I am pings of energy,
resounding in a field of ripples,
communicating notes
of an intricate, endless song.

I am right where I belong.

This is me:
sediment eroding
in the current of consciousness
coalescing with Life’s
astounding breath.

This is me:
salt of the sea,
oversaturated.

Forming crystalline structures,
in perfect cubic geometry,
refracting light and energy;
protecting.

This is me:
reality unfurling;
elements disintegrating
into quintessential, natural information.

This is me:
consciousness in conception;
forming will from flow
with no direction.

This is You.
It is me, too.
But we are one,

look into
another’s eyes
and see the sun reflecting.

We are light beings;
fragments of reality
dissecting

everything.

Miracles of being in transpiring.
Precipitations on the cycle
of the endless ocean.

Grasping at open air

ether slipping through
fingers
like rigid wind

out the passenger side window

on the road to freedom


I

thought I was headed somewhere

predestined, and I’d 

find God waiting for me
in a hotel room
booked, with a beachfront view
and two swimming pools, but

our car broke down

in a small town
near a railroad

where my one track mind
resides in a switching station
by a motel 6(66)
betwixt the path to everywhere
and nowhere

bombardment of the senses
enlightened but inundated
the mind cracks, and self  
is exposed as vacuous

the pursuit of happiness rarely ever
feels fruitful to me, as a pursuit, anymore
but when it is acknowledgement of inherent joy,
it is abundant and flourishing,
like sunlight, water, or air

I think I’m finally starting to relax. 
It was such a simple day, 
but it was beautiful. 

I took a walk in the park, 
and had a great time 
playing a silly game, 
and forgetting to care 
about a thing. 

I got stung by a hornet 
for the first time, 
and I could have complained, 
but I thought it was pretty cool. 

Firsts are neat. 

I ate junk food 
and breathed deeply 
and took a selfie with a hawk 
that landed in a tree 
without leaves 
and barely any limbs. 

It almost seemed like 
it was posing for a picture. 

I went home, 
and I wasn’t tense, 
and I wasn’t stressed, 
and the noise didn’t bother me, 
too much. 

I’m starting to let go 
of everything holding me back. 
I don’t want to worry anymore. 
I want to sleep deeply, 
and wake up feeling restored. 

I want to write without caring 
why I’m doing it. 

You know 
I questioned if I should even 
be writing poetry anymore, 
last night? 

I feel like I haven’t been 
enjoying it like I used to. 
Like it’s just a chore, 
or something I’m doing 
purely because I feel like 
that’s what I’m supposed to do. 

Maybe my real passion is conversation. 
But, I think, when the words flow freely 
and with that certain kind of eloquence 
I only find in isolated moments of silence, 
when the mind decides to sing instead of speak, 
I experience true magic. 

The current passes through me, 
in that wisping instant. 
I’m stolen away to a place 
of solace and safety. 

I’m left feeling energized and nourished, 
but suddenly aware of a thirst that 
I’d never realized I needed to quench 
until I wrote that specific poem. 

So maybe purpose 
has nothing to do 
with passion. 

Maybe people are beautiful, 
and small moments of grace 
keep me loving life, and 
breathing it in and 
becoming through my experiences. 

I’m certainly passionate about sharing 
an aspect of the world with myself; 
ingesting it, and incorporating it into me. 

Living as a culmination of memory and energy 
passed through so many different beings 
and incarnations of something 
that is ultimately formless; 
that will always inspire me. 

And contemplating that inexpressible fact, 
of what is nebulous yet ever present, 
is the thread that ties me to fate. 

But poetry is something, I think, 
that is written on my heart 
to sustain my soul. 

It’s a sort of inscription or incantation, 
invoking the very essence of my existence. 
And that isn’t to say I am a poet 
because I write poetry. 

What I’m saying is that I write poetry 
because the emotion of life is distilled 
through my soul and causes my heart to swell 
until it bursts. 

I am sodden with the ichor of existence. 
Sometimes living hurts, 
but nothing is more real 
than loving it, anyway.

Sun and moon in me

river of light and ocean of emotion
always spilling over pulchritudinous petals
of the unfurling lotus of energy

til comes the withering of flowers
when love ceases to flow
inertia, become inert
dormant in my hurt
i shrivel
so

now in night, when i sleep,
the mind unwinds there in the deep
my hidden, hollow heart it keeps

a home, alone, within me
aching emptily
in nightmarish symmetry
i view myself, unruly

but I know I am alone
to undertake the healing
of the heart I call my home
to fill me up again

so in the light of day I rise
open my mind
and beckon starlight

to shine a beacon through me
connecting everything to nothing
Earthbound energy in true reunion
with the cosmic overflow

Balancing duality of being
love of light, and darkest night
in honoring and seeing
my virtues and my plight
my stardust, gleaming

Alchemizing mind, body and soul;

effervescence, as the salt of the earth
dissolves in the endless ocean
restoring emotion
allowing tears to flow freely
once again

God is a face with no name; 
a whisper in the breeze; 
the hum of insects in a forest 
aglow with the first rays 
of the soft light of dawn. 

God is the vibration 
of everything as one. 
The emotion of a heart 
awake but breaking, 
choosing instead 
to carry on. 

God is the transcendence of hope, 
when faith is another day; 
the present moment fleeting; 
making the most of the lives we have 
before they slip so fragilely 
through our fingers. 

Yet, in this swelling of divinity, 
we do not cling… 
We cherish but let go, 
because we know 
that we must grow, 
thereto bestow 
our pearls of wisdom 
onto the future 
living in our dreams. 

We are aflame with inexhaustible spirit. 
We are chock-full of life and love 
and we owe it all to the immensity of being. 

How full we’ve all felt. 
How we’ve striven 
to leave ourselves empty, 
not knowing what it means 
to long for life in our wizening. 

We only want to be whole. 
God is forgetting, and forgiving 
ourselves for what we lack, 
and what we are or what we aren’t. 

God is the intangible spirit 
of knowing we are whole 
in our very melting. 

That through the coursing, 
and the melding 
of ever present energies, 
we belong to something greater 
than ourselves. 

God is ALL. 
God is One. 
God is none, 
for we are he are thee. 
We’ve split ourselves to many. 
To let life be lived aplenty. 

So dream, 
my dear past, dream. 
Soon you shall see. 
Soon you shall 
remember me. 

Maddening, I know. 
Yet, with every step, 
we manifest.
With every step we grow.

It resonates, and it is a melody
in harmony with your song.
You resonate,
and you write an ode to it.

You serenade it,
embody its energy,
match its frequency
with your whole being.

It resonates with you,
and it is a tune,
and you are complete.

You resonate with it
and you are open, empty,
ready to eat of its fruit;
become a part of it
as it becomes a part of you.

Am I too rigid in my windiness?
Am I too mutable to coalesce?
Too stuck on shifting with the breeze
to be mellifluous?

Am I a one man band
against a symphony
of endlessness?

I say it resonates,
but I’m expressed;
removed from zephyr
and born as breath.

A ‘more’, amor,
but nothing more
than breadth
without substance

Here comes the drum of the unconsumed
through mountains churning under burning moon
from the open eye of a sky attuned
to the stars in the mind of a magical loon

He sings to the rain; it’s said he’s rot in the brain,
but the madman sees what the people flee;
sees the thrum of the pulse of the ancient trees
through the veins where the life flows of each lived thing

Cast their pain to the wind and he breathes it in
and it drips from his tongue, and the earth drinks sin
but the stars in his heart sparkle out from within, 

cause the madman transposes chagrin

In the haste of a world that unfurls by the sun
neath the moon of the loon is the veil undone
as he watches the stars turn an hour a tick
by the fire whence transpires, his an endless wick

So, tho judge ye will, he cannot be killed
for he’s traced all space with delightful trill
tho an empty man, he has had his fill
for the madman belongs to the moon

Once, in a dream that slipped away,

the mustered mind could reach

beyond the stars into the dark



But, in this emptiness;

my passion will not even drip

where it once overflowed



Am I condemned to be alone?

Condemned to never know;

to never speak?



Must I toil on

toward not enough

to live a life called worthy?



I am in no hurry

to secure my arrest

in the throes of unhappiness



I’ve watched the world in blur for several years

and all my tears have dried up long ago


The softest glow of consciousness

was once my light through this abyss

but now, 



I am nothing:



a forceless breath attempting

to guide the wind and fill the sails;


a silent shout unending,

no challenge o’er which to prevail



Without poetry

my spirit begins to dwindle



Hope swindles,

wishing suffocates,



and I care not

—dare not—

to dream

I want to live in this state

where every breath feels like vaporous gold

my blood is ablaze with the violet flame

and the gravity of cosmic, celestial ethereality

suspends each simple speck of being,

pulsating with transcendent, growing energy



Aperture adjustment; 

light parts the mist of the physical

a bloom, returned

consumed in energetic being


seeing through illusion


I want to transmute

the frazzled, festering things

that constitute the dissonant;


returned to harmony

with a decisive tap!

like liquid crystals flipped

to shine white light



Melt the astral ice

entice my mind and soul

to cascade into the ocean;

dissipate my shaking being;

make me feel whole



I am love. I am love. I am Love.

I am nothing.

there we sat,
four strong in the abandoned station
boxes and trash scattered haplessly about
the dim lit room, on couches
tense and anticipatory

she saw seesaws by the water
tilting to and fro
as wind blows cloud by her open mind
a mouth ajar and hanging lame,
spittle sticks

a miscreant metaphor abhorred in dark
a lonesome emptiness that cannot get a grip
when suddenly a crowd forms from
the avenues wherein adventure halts

sign the form
name and date
Brain: Frog

she rants and raves
or is it "he?"
butcher you, to stay
with me forever

No
I will not tarry there
in the stagnant air
won't weep with you
in this empty room

I'll dive into the deep
hide beneath the false surface
waves under stillwater

I swim up
a boat laps over me
exposed belly
no rutters cut
no blades to leave me empty

I survive
Father'lone, a search party
but in my dive into obscurity
I left my friends behind
We could've taken her