-------------_


Sobbing into palms on the front porch.
Is this our story?
Highways, rushing speeds, is this our story?

Little Marra's wide eyed opaqueness.
Is this our story?

There's a line in a song, it's Pink Floyd, not their best song, I'm sure a Tibetan monk words it better but I'm lazy. I do not wish to search the google gods to find a deeper way to say it.
The song is "I wish you were here"
The line goes:
"We're just two lost souls swimming in a fishbowl, year after year, running over the same old ground what have we found? The same old fears"

So I'm sitting on a mountain facing new realities.

Is this our life,
Layed out over the back table
like the time **** played memory games with the cards, sprawled over white plastic,
That wooden deck,
winds blowing cards into ruffets of thin air.

Is this our lives,
As we try
to apply
Ourselves to these forces before us,
As we move our bodies to rhythms
Only to deeply aware of
The disposable landscapes

Is this our earth?
As ancient hands
Let sands
Slip
Through fingertips
Is this our story?
We ask
When death rips
At family
And we run away from the emotions
Streaming from our lips.

Who are we but souls in bodies
Living out picturesque moments,
Gritty unpleasant moments
All the moments

Is this us holding hands on swing sets at twilight?
Using all our might to hold on
When the rabbit hole has opened and we're slipping down
But even when we've hit the ground
What have we found?

A million moments before us, a million shapes we mold into
Running into open blue
Unwinding into
the only thing
true
This light behind the minds eye,
Looking into you
until you
is me
is you
is we
What do you see?

Is this our lives on a standstill
Ferocious oceans
Or just moving motions
Broken down to a cell,
Is it hell,
Or heaven as well?
Whose to tell?

We just orbit somewhere between
A gazillion worlds
Trying to place it,
Trying to hold on
But this molecular wind
Is moving strong
and
We're drifting
Along
May as well sing a song
Get lost, so, so, so lost
Get found
Get wound
Unbound
Round and round

I heard a Pink Floyd song "we're just two lost souls swimming in a fishbowl year after year, what have we found?"
Nothing yet everything,
so just keep on living it
(whatever IT is)
For all its glory
You get the pen,
It's your story.

I don't wish you were here
I've let myself fall
Until I'm not me at all
How can I wish when
I go swish swish
At the speed of light
Your on your own flight
Diving off the deep end,
Somehow we're still in the fishbowl
No matter how many times we roll
Out of this moat
What's it all about ?
Trying to stay afloat
Or releasing
as this boat
Rocks us deeper
And deeper into
absolute nothingness.

This is our stories

Splayed before the minds eye

So cry all you can cry

And live it for all its glory

Feel all you can feel

You get the pen,

Now write your hearts story.
------

-

-------------------------------------------------------------



­How long do we stuff our thighs

With evolutions lies

I watch on as another tower

Hits the skies

And I'm singing

the blues

excuse

me

for what do I know

But that your taking the land

Stopping seeds to grow

so you go

And build a supermall

So we can continue

To stuff our faces like pigs

That's evolution

We need to create jobs for the economy

So therefore we need to eat ****, use ****,

and cause children in poor countries ****

because we are so enslaved

to this system endoctrined within us

Engrained in an empty train

Of ******* ****.

We're a tribe of too many

Listening to some rat pack  

Who has no clue

What to do

why not freedom and trust

Wipe away the rust

That lingers on this falling world .

Who am I to know?

Of course there's more to it,

It's really quite complex

I don't know what's next

But I think it's time we stop living **** lies

Supermalls on the rise

And stop the poverty

Hello food sovereignty

Breathe Heather

Breathe....

...aaaahhhh....

I love you all,
Let's do this <3

I am not an introvert,
Nor an extravert.
Not a boy,
nor a girl.
Not a this
Or a that.
Not a sloping number
Nor a climbing stat.

I am not
Green, Blue, Yellow, Red!
I am not defined
By pasts I have said

Perhaps I am a fairy
The next day, a butterfly

I am nothing and everything

Just orbiting here
Between Earth n Sky

No need to shape
This essence before me
I am what I am
And I'm not sorry. <3

Mysterious nights
Wandering gypsy
Alleyways

A Chinese restaurant hucks hot water
Into darkness,
Steam curling into grey-orange skies


I imagine diners inside,
the cheery laughter and the loudness,
Someone else's life plays out in picturesque scenes.
while light mist falls outside, they sit inside, recalling old memories, warm fuzzy smiles,
Blurry images racing and rambling around in my brain.



I continue onward.



Crackle-painted doorways
Metal stairways
Prayer flags,
Hanging trinkets
Gypsy delights
Colorful this and that's,
And the occasional stretch of silence.



Full moon,
Black cat
Adventures.


At the crescent slip
I met a wrinkled woman
With a crow
On her shoulder.

“we should cast aside all childish games that fetter and exhaust body, speech and mind; and stretching out in inconceivable nonaction, in the unstructured matrix, the actuality of emptiness, where the natural perfection of reality lies, we should gaze at the uncontrived sameness of every experience, all conditioning and ambition resolved with finality.”