#shambhala
Step 1: Be present~ Earth holding my feet as if expansive hands were arising from the core. Gravity magnetizing my ankles. The open blue sky above and brilliant sun speaking its truth through high hot rays to my skin. Hearing the expiring summer wind flapping the flags. My heart snaps the Earth and Sky into One.
Step 2: Be Genuine~ Travel to my heart center. What does it feel like in there? Settle on this inquiry for a few passing minutes. The present moment is breathing. The Universe is speaking to me, whether I choose to open up to it or not. Fear wants to creepy crawl and shade my heart. I have the power to receive and dive into the tidal waves of human life.
Step 3: Radiate~ Open my eyes and extend outward, the warmth that I have cultivated by accepting and being with this present moment. Mix my organic radiance with the activity of the natural world. Energy is playing like a child at recess. I am apart of it all. I am enough. I am a manifestation of the four elements. I am art.
Sep 2, 2015
Sep 2, 2015 at 1:25 PM UTC
IF you follow me bring the dead along for all the children have suffered and all madmen pollute || ~~ IS GAME OVER “? between sun-beating down & STARS beating
psychotic clowns/ the pogo clown has died forever.
If you could you might adjust your eyes against all monsters that follow
…kiss me if you survive \\perishing is a buildingGRACE of reSKINNING the Soul
(oh whoa oh whoa oh wow oh no oh hey)
…just say the hardest price to pay //
are the things for free // eat and drink
remain my memory deeply between crimson &
sun-baked lips (music stretches thinner
e a c h & e v e r y d a y
carry on even if the stars extinguish
the very hurt you receive time &
space str e t c h ed pass a threshold of
mortal pain…you see and creation is reversed forward
God have mercy upon our weakened hearts
shame shame it’s the only world we have
and each other — there ain’t no denying (OH mother! No denying LIFE is a THORN against my eyes; as i bend down i try to find my BEING within a deeply yelled moan; i’m dying i’m dying i’m rolling round a desert stream — shambhala come again against trail dust and kasmir
i am waiting i am decaying i am a mote of Poet
t r aveling inside OPEN space considered: static syntax
and congealed moments upon the professional grace of unspoken
words. whoa…whoa…it’s the hardest price to pay when things
so expensive are for free.
:: 03.03.2020 ::
Mar 7, 2020
Mar 7, 2020 at 1:50 PM UTC