Children face the light

Children face the light

23 September 2018

 

children 5AA-utah-pinterest com
pinterest.com

 

 

Blackbirds in mind swirl

Loud cries’ strident pillars felt

Weight in my tear ducts

 

Soulless creatures crawl

In the dark alleys some breathe

Agony in mind

 

Sun bursts in sockets

Jasmine withers in heatwave

Known features dwindle

 

Windows carry floods

From peaks to valleys we drop

Blood from the Elders

 

Crimson my waters

Morrow’s seasons shook in tides

Wavelength scorches sight

 

Dark eyes starry pools

Small hands tools of forgiveness

Children face the light

 

Reading of the poem: 

The sky is crying – Gary BB Coleman

Show me an arrow

Show me an arrow

13 September 2018

center heart christian schloe almond tree from heart.jpg

We bask in the light

Summer suns a safe haven

Winter a shadow

 

Within chronicles

Yesterday’s dreams are waning

Particles of dust

 

Wandering crows meet

Blackened rooftops gain a shade

Crafty black in black

 

Blue ribbons scatter

Red garlands will drag along

Skies a jigsaw frame

 

I gather moonbeams

Pale lilies in the pond glow

Infinite glitter

 

Show me an arrow

I will show you bleeding bows

Harvests are meager

 

Fingers summon years

Tireless practice in the aim

Center of the heart

 

Reading of the poem: 

Straight to the Heart – Sina Vodjani

Hush

Hush

15 May 2018

Hush George Redhawk

 

Hush she said and the woods were silent. The pitter-patter of raindrops a deafening sound covering her waning heartbeat. Hush she said and the rain softly subsided, an occasional drop on a leaf resounding like a thud in her head. Hush she said and the leaves ceased caressing the wind, their whispers fading into the rising dusk. Hush she said and the blood in her veins slowed tenfold until she could hear the drip like a background music to the occasional flap of wings of a cawing crow shaking off the rain. Hush she said and the darkness engulfed her with its palpable silence like a long forgotten and well-worn cloak. Hush she said her eyes finally closing, her soul softly embracing the dark night.

 

Reading of the short story: 

Wilderness – Adam Hurst

 

 

In rolls of thunder

In rolls of thunder

2 March 2018

breaking waves deviantart the_lightning_witch_by_lowlivier-d5l29tl (2)
Courtesy deviantart.com

From dim skies

Grey landscapes emerge

Purge of white

Faltering

The dark clouds in the skies surge

Backdrop upheaval

 

Flying kites

Shaking in the skies

Black ribbons

Unwinding

Pitter patter reminding

Of mice alike men

 

Lightning strikes

Hearts flutter a while

Blood curdles

Ravens swarm

Above plains drenched hereunder

In rolls of thunder

 

Reading of the poem:

Thunder Spirit (Native american music)

Stormy weather stains

Stormy weather stains

23 February 2018

realms stormgrounds com
Courtesy stormgrounds.com

 

Lightning strikes on plains

The dark one losing his gains

Expunged all our pains

 

Desert landscapes sigh

Behold the thundering sky

Truth is born from lie

 

Haughty mares shake manes

Dragons’ blood courses through veins

Sun and moon in lanes

 

Spirits soaring high

Eagles and falcons now fly

Nature to comply

 

The gleaming moon wanes

Willing the skies as it rains

Stormy weather stains

 

Reading of the poem: 

Ly O Lay Ale Loya (Circle Dance) ~ Native Song

Drums of Thunder (Native American Music) Mountain Spirits

Calming Native American Flute over Thunderstorm

Like water rocks boat

Like water rocks boat

5 September 2017

 pinterest com 3
Courtesy pinterest.com

 

Salvation

In crowning union

Two split halves

Facing three

Dented portions’ oblivion

Tears of forgiver

 

Deliver

Thunders of chosen

The footstep

Loosened grip

The buckle nodding at tip

Dancer’s angle straight

 

Mark my speech

Blood of Messenger

Strident cross

Wayward toss

Coins slipping from eyes shut

Like water rocks boat

 

Reading of the poem: 

sailboatbig-pinterest-com-2
Courtesy pinterest.com

Nebula – Sleep Dealer

Muted – Sleep Dealer

The tenth Planet – Sleep Dealer

Phoenix Flying 15: On the nature of duality

Phoenix Flying 15: On the nature of duality

7 July 2017

duality closer to the ennemy inside of me chelsie blanc
Courtesy Chelsie Blanc

Mama Jain felt a momentary rush of repulsion and excitement go through her frame as she felt the smooth coldness of the touch of the preternatural being she was touching and that she knew intuitively was actually her. She pondered upon the fact that every new discovery, even of what the mind tricked into believing it was new while it was old, always seemed to lead to a brief intermingling of two antagonistic impulsions within one’s being, each of them inspired by a diametrically opposed set of emotions. While reflecting on this and slowly relaxing against the coldness of the palm in front of her, she could feel it subtly warm against her own outstretched palm and she could feel the tingling of the nerves in the palm facing her while she slowly felt herself travelling up a chain of constricted vessels that seemed to be a bloodstream. On she journeyed, into the red that swayed up until the end of the upward waterfall where she could see a throbbing blue red door suspended between streaks of light that glistened with crystalline dewdrops.

As Mama Jain had journeyed through the channels that sometimes dilated and sometimes constricted but always in a winding motion whether round or squared, she then fully realised that the solution to the age-old squared circle problem was by essence multidimensional, a quantum concept like the flowing of time was in reality, a chaos model in the multiverse. Like it was the case of the feeling of being constricted or dilated, the commanding of the passage from one to another a simple matter of perspective, of vantage point, inner, outer.

Mama Jain felt herself come to a halt just at the brink of the door which she realised was actually her own heart that kept beating and throbbing pouring out red and blue depending on which side the flow had made her drift. She swirled in the pools of red and blue at the measure of the heartbeats and could feel herself slowly overcome by a great feeling of peace that pervaded her every atom. She realised deeply that the Theory of Everything was indeed Love. It was not necessarily the concept of romantic love although that too played a very important part in the composition of the energetic field that she knew propelled and sucked everything as she had experienced it during her journeys outwards. She saw further that the Theory of Everything was the unifying frequency that built upon the weightless measure of things when they were all vibrating together causing all of them to have the same scale when looked at from an observation point where they could all be viewed as one-dimensional despite them being multi-dimensional.

Mama Jain could see in the shadows cast by the crystalline drops at the top of the red blue door a myriad of shades of purple that were differentiated by the quantity of light that fell upon them. It then occurred to her that if there were no shadows, then one could not actually perceive the light as there would be nothing to contrast it and differentiate it, therefore giving a meaning to its existence. Mama Jain realised that in some way, the light owed its existence to the darkness and the other way around so one could not exist without the presence of the other. Mama Jain could feel her being fill with the understanding that all things were one thing and its opposite at the same time and what was perceived depended merely on the vantage point with the unifying perspective being the unifying frequency of love that beat in the heart of all things Earth-bound, stellar or interstellar. She had felt intuitively that when she journeyed outwards to far away lands the frequency that unified her with her external circumstances caused her to dilate to a size commensurate to the interaction required with the beings existing outside of her. It was all truly a matter of scalability which was carefully measured and reshaped according to the unifying frequency of Love.

While the fact that a being could be one thing and its opposite at the same time could seem irreconcilable, Mama Jain realised that it was very akin to what happened during her meditation as her mind danced with the stars while her body was still on the ground and her heart pulsated within the center of the multiverse for she was etheric, dilated and immense among the stars but at the same time finite, physical and limited within her frame on Earth. It was during the peak of those moments of total synchronicity, when her heart and mind had reached the point of resonance where both beings could exist and be one at the same time that she could connect to grid of all things through the heartpath and bend all matter and lack of it thereof into new forms of being.

Mama Jain surmised that for the new forms to be seen, one must see them through the heart, the new eye of the mind which allowed the retina to see what she knew was the quantum world through a tiny lense that lead to the pathway of the breath. It occurred to her then that words, pulsating through breath caused the motion in stillness of the air within bringing forth a series of emotions in her and therefore aligning words in a certain pattern and diffusing them into the ether outside would cause motion in the stillness of the infinite air outside and cause a similar series of emotions although of a different scale altogether. Embued with that knowledge, Mama Jain set about sharing a string of words infused with a frequency translating the impulse of breath that she felt inside when joining together the words and sat back to observe the effect they would cause.

As the experiences multiplied, Mama Jain noted that while some felt a sense of exhilaration at some of the words, others only felt in them sadness and a sense of foreboding. She then realised that even words, even breath pulsating through the ether could be perceived as one thing or its opposite because they were perceived from different vantage points. Mama Jain wondered whether it was the breath and the words themselves that contained the duality or whether it was the readers with their minds that expressed that duality and she realised that it was difficult to say whether it was the one or the other. In order to check whether it was the breath, Mama Jain traveled to different points of her country first staying at the level of the sea and then driving into mountains and experimenting the effect of the frequencies intermingled with the words and the result she had was quite surprising. She realised that even within her own being, both the breath and the frequency seemed to take on a whole new meaning and a whole new set of emotions depending on whether she was at sea level or in the mountains.

Mama Jain was not sure what to do with this new finding that she had never suspected before. She wondered whether she could call upon bluebird so that they could analyse the data pertaining to several individuals and see whether there was a difference in the perception of the same thing depending on the distance from the Earth but bluebird was sitting mum and not keen on assisting her these days. She thought to herself with a chuckle that she ought to go to the moon and see if the frequency and the dynamised breath had the same effect or whether they would feel even lighter there. Meanwhile, she would have to try to find a way to go deeper into the analysis of this new finding which was that the nature of duality was embedded within every individual being and the way one thing was viewed by the same individual varied depending on the location of that individual comparatively to Earth which center sucked the individual being. Mama Jain wondered whether the way everything was viewed would keep changing depending upon the new center as defined by the location of the individual.

Looking back at her hand through which she had emerged again both from her thoughts and from the bloodstream that she had been floating through, Mama Jain waved it in a twirling motion and it was once facing her backwards and once frontwards. She thought to herself that if she were to wave infinitely fast and see it when she was out of her body like before, the hand would probably be a flower composed of infinite juxtapositions of a frontwards and backwards hand and one would not be able to say which was frontwards and which was backwards. Mama Jain thought that it would be interesting to twirl time very quickly and see whether one would randomly find oneself in the forward time or in the backward time or whether one would actually not be able to distinguish anymore which was forward and which was backward.

 

Eye of the Storm

Still waters – Maksim Mrvica