I’m twisted and tampered And feeling Pampered by Life This Night This tribute to Light is but a Face Of the race I run The case I’ve begun to sort thru And contort to And still the Sun shines thru Like icing on the cake That in my Womb I bake With creativity at stake For far too few Understand The clues And wake and take the break For Life is the Steak And potatoes Of the Days which grow Through my labors
I take the Smile and Fake senile And pretend to Forget That I Am still Wet Gleaming like sweat from the brow Of the Holy Cow Who Was Slaughtered in Fear Cooked for our Dear who is Slave To the Tears That have Flooded before… Knocked down their doors And Dripped right through The cracks in the Floor….
Peace Is Sweet And a Covert Operation At best Is less Than a fatal test Of the rest.
Take a deep breath , folks,21st century Fox Poppin off the top of this metropolis, Mocks Your intelligence and plays on your emotions So easily led and Fed the poisonous potion Of political devotion gift wrapped with Shock… Take a Deep Breathe and be ready to surrender All the Scripts that rip right thru this Dyin ember …. Step away from the Line, step away from the Lies Every single scene is a Set meant for your mind A studio Setting created just for the blind Adherence to the program that steers your Lives….
It’s not even abstract, not just metaphor… A Literal Configuration of Lets Pretend Some More Actors n Agents and Fictitious Stages The masses addicted to social Graces from Instagram faces in Media Contagion….
Bless Your hearts, my friends Find your Center, Within Everything else Is a trick Of the Lens
Photo by Kevin Stiles, model Jade Brannon, dress by Charleen Johnston
Let your heart break. Let it bleed. Let it ache. Let all its pieces fall to the floor at your feet. Let the tears flow. Let yourself fall to your knees. Let the pain become physical. Let yourself live in a way where your heart is allowed to be broken. By this, I don’t mean put your heart in harm’s way and fail to care for its welfare. I don’t mean date people who are difficult to love and pretend it doesn’t matter when they throw you out like the day’s trash. I don’t mean orchestrate your life in a way where your needs aren’t being met or you lack the feeling of love and support. I don’t mean neglect to put yourself first and position yourself as someone else’s proverbial punching bag. I don’t mean choose self-destruction over self-construction. What I mean is this: don’t be ashamed if you love hard and it falls apart. Don’t buffer the fact that your heart shattered to pieces. Don’t hide it, lie about it, shy away from it, or deny it. Don’t avoid an important experience for fear that you’ll get hurt. Don’t look away from it when someone else is in pain, or when someone you love is suffering beyond your comprehension. Don’t mask it, ignore it, downplay it or try to escape from it. Don’t think for a second that it is wrong for your heart to be breaking. If your heart is broken — let it be broken. Let it all fall apart. Because there’s more than enough sorrow in this damn world that should, and will, eviscerate your heart. I’m not just talking about your first love walking away, or your partner of 10 years deciding they want to be with someone else. I’m not just talking about losing a job or not getting into your college of choice. I’m talking about things like watching a loved one die after months of suffering — or, on the other hand, having them die so suddenly you didn’t get the chance to say goodbye. Losing a child that you loved more than anything, or losing a child before you had the opportunity to even get to know them. Knowing that someone was abused, belittled and beaten because of the color of their skin or their sexual preference. Finding out that someone who means the world to you has spent their whole life in a perpetual state of self-loathing. Watching someone slowly die from the inside out and being utterly unable to change it. Loss, destruction, inequality, unforgivable acts of violence, unimaginable amounts of pain — you’re never at a loss for reasons to be heartbroken. And you have to let it in; you have to let the hurt come through. Because trust me: it’ll only eat you from the inside out if you don’t.
Let yourself feel the pain. Pain changes you. It transforms you. It softens you and hardens you at the same time. It breeds wisdom and humility. It puts things into perspective. It allows you to feel more empathy and compassion. It heightens your standards and lowers your guard. You’ll never be the same; you’ll never go back to who you were before the breakdown, and that’s on purpose. That’s how it’s supposed to be. It means you’ve grown. It means you cared about someone or something enough to get hurt. It means you put your precious heart into the way you live and love and approach significant situations in your life. It means it all meant something. ⠀ If you’ve ever caught a glimpse of death, and just a tiny glimpse will do, you’ll know that none of the other shit matters. The status, the achievement, the money, the need to keep impressing people you don’t even know — none of that means one iota in the larger scheme of things. The only thing that truly matters is that you loved and that you loved hard. And when you put your heart on the line, it opens itself up, and it also gets beat up. That’s how it all works. That also means you’re doing something right. Keep going.
Freshly fingered fabrics lapse into gentle silence, those fraudulent fabrications that twist into violence and disappear have dragged tear by tear down my cheek registered fear among all but the meak The brave, they say, is the true slave to fantasy…..But I pledge myself to anonymity suffering gently these sweet thorns that are born from trying too hard from crying too loud aching and waking and forsaking the crowds sweet appraisal; The damsel is silent, in distress underdressed in her amnesty… this distant hypocrisy forgets me and I swerve to define this line of my observations this truth of my inner nation proclaiming itself to be free mired in mud transpired in blood higher than the seers who predicted the flood. Babble on….sweet priest deceive the ignorant on the streets of Babylon anoint your tampon and slide in to plug up the slut of your ideology to stop the flow of connection of energy from the heart of god to the god of Earth who whispers secrets in the form of Birth.
Becoming one with this itch, I scream silently pointing fingers of blame mirror mazes blazes back at me with glaring intensity I scratch; hide from the faces that hatch within this mould, folding in on me; becoming me in some sick dream…wearing my masks and laughing till my words spill chaotically trying hurriedly to heal the split; duality disappearing with Light embracing Dark, a dance of essence… and I am reformed, consciously; I take the fake parts and hearts and tear them apart to reveal the Real, the healing taking place between this world and this dream the great arc, the great bowl with which my fever is fed, this empty vessel fuelling fire in my head; I am held; they drink of me like a wine sweet; the intoxication of the beast; listen, dear sir…would you care to cleave this belief with me, turn it into dichotomy? Ah, there’s the secret, the sane hand with which I claim this land, this realm… splitting hairs for fear of Life, reconciled in the wiles of the worm; earth furnished and tarnished to term… faded…outmoded…games played with translucent trust… am I breaking apart, fading away claiming only the name of the game, but suffering the flame like all the rays that have manifest here since the Dawn?
….the eye of the hurricane is on its way, to ransack and flapjack the core of all our brains, speeding up the rate at which we perceive the perforation, the fate of which could rip and tear a nation, a station, a fusion of minds incoherent redundant grasping for meaning but dormant fleeing the feeling of torment peeling the rots from the dealings and knots from the zealous run leper run
run leper run its all just for fun on a level so deep its not understood does it make it less Real does it make it less concrete does it make it worth the run the gun the gripping of the sun in attempt to hide defeat
SMILE on the periphery it is a storm, a chaos, an insistence on resistance but at the core, it’s unchanged, it neverwas and neverwillbe, and neveris, but still existing giving us the balance to create lands in time hands in line to co create with malleable laws
implicate order enfolded within each explicate experience shooting out from the source in fractals of difference and intensity and vibration and density till the impulse reaches completion loses its thrust coarsens its vibration yet mimics the One and then begins its evolution back to the Within with all the cohesion of experience and lessons and soulsparks and mouldings holding on to Awareness as it ascends back to the heart of the hologram to enrich the totality of all that is with each divine perspective as it returns and ReTurns the wheel as the cycle continues and spins out again the impulsion the force the flickering light of love to enforce the dynamic dance of desperate dreams……………
What does this spiral storm Hold for me Where does this winding path Lead me
Am I passing thru unnoticed In fragments of disguise Remnants of understanding Discarded As l i e s….
The cycles compel us to Forge forward On this journey The wheels of time Ever so gently turning Twisting Stories and dreams And whisperings into Sculptures with essence And imaginings
Dance like silver star s I l v e r n I g h t Smiling from afar
(are we barred from ever reaching Those shores that speak of transcendence?)
The ringing singing tone Of E ve r y th I n g Clap clapping deafening
Forces me to awaken from this dream
The requiem Outlasted me
Finding once more simpler Shores timeless tales metaphors
The path of fire that leads up thru time Up thru spine out of mind
Last night had an epic adventure; I am on a hovering craft/or helicopter like vehicle and watching a war torn area, so much carnage. There are some kind of documents that are vital to whoever i am working for….and we are not associated with either side of the war/battle. A man volunteers to retrieve the documents and I feel relieved it wasnt me, as I know there is slim chance of success. But we watch from above as, even though he succeeds in getting the documents, he never makes it out of the battle zone back to us, he is taken down by a bullet from above. We see him fall. We know that it is unlikely the ‘enemy’ knows he has documents of import, and so we have to now retrieve the documents/tapes from the mans body before his body is found and the documents removed.. I know there is a high chance of death, but I also know that this is only one Reality of many, and so I feel compelled to help whoever it is that has brought me here. I go down into the battle zone and after a long while make my way to the mans body. I see people shot down all around me. Once I get the stuff from him, have to navigate very sketchy scenarios. Lots of overheard war planes and helicopters, there are snipers. It was a somewhat barren scene, with sparse trees. Found myself, with Oisin (who I brought with me because he was needed in order to get into the school/building we were trying to get to to drop off the documents…without alerting suspicion), having to take cover inside an army barracks. I have no idea who either side fighting were. We get spotted by a young man, and I manage to convince him to keep quiet, that we will certainly be killed or held hostage if found, and we need to get out of the battle zone. He has a wound on the left side of his neck, as if he had been skimmed by a bullet or something, He communicates that he has a medical examination within the next 24 hours and will be in a convoy leaving the base, and may be able to get us off if we can stay clear til then. So he shows us where to hide. And leaves. We climb up on these tall shelves, hide behind a bunch of supplies etc, hoping not to be spotted and having no idea how long we will have to be there. I can see from where I am a sort of courtyard, somewhat barren, but a few bushes and benches. Now and then I see some person running trying to get past the battle zone or out of the encampent, and they are picked off by a sniper. I had thought about trying to navigate out without help but realize its a death wishe. So I manage to keep Oisin quiet and still for so long. Then a group of soldiers come in, as if heading back to the from duty. They are all young. a whole bunch of stuff happens while Im watching them, then two of the men see us. I convey to them that we are awaiting one of their fellow men to help us, and they say they will help too. They feel sorry for us. None of them want to be there. More and more time goes by, finally we are instructed by the young man to get inside the small freezer there, because it will be transported off base with the convoy….and we may be able to clear it if hidden inside. I debate this, and the percent chance of surviving just being in the freezer. I face it and we climb in, I give oisins my jacket. We squish inside and wait. We can feel ourselves being carried by the men then in the trucks then finally out of the battle zone. This all takes a long time to take place. Eventually we are out, and instead of going on to his intended medical examination, the boy comes with us, to help. We get a car and know we have to avoid being spotted by any police or army or other control agents. We make our way to a small town, where we have to gather supplies and get food, but have no money or belongings. So I have to debate stealing food, which I dont want to do, but finally decide that I have to feed my son at least. So then we leave and the boy ends up caught amidst all this, and charged with trying to leave without permission and all that crazy stuff. He seems to give me an address and some stuff. A bunch more time passes in the car driving and driving and thinking and analyzing. Find ourselves on a long dirt road, out in the middle of nowhere. There is a very large house in the distance behind some trees, with all the lights on. I think what a waste of electricity. We end up there. Sneak inside the house, me trying to keep oisin quiet and not wake the people, the last thing we need is to be arrested. After exploring and finding a particular bedroom, I leave a box with a few old photos and a letter on the bed. These are from the young man who had been with us, it seems this may be his parents/family and he has asked me to get this message to them. Im aware the people know we are in the house, and probably have called the cops…..so Im rushing oisin, and trying to get out before they show up. We make it, and end up in a small cafe/shop a little later. Im trying to feed oisin again. I see a stand with handmade mugs…beautifully crafted. I realize they are similar to one I have. The name on the tag says something like ‘ocello’. A young man makes conversation with me about the mugs. He then offers to buy me a coffee in one, as does the man behind the serving counter. I graciously accept, and i choose my mug. it is tall and has a leather binding outside for the heat. It is beautiful brown and the leather insulation is magnetic, with several square magnet tiles with symbols and words that I am moving around, appreciating the beauty of the mug and the sweetness of the man. I ask him if he would like to have lunch with oisin and I outside before we head off on the rest of our journey. I cant recall if he accepts or not, it is clear his motives were simply to help me on my way and be compassionate. I think back to the young boy who helped us get out of the battle zone and realize with sadness that I believe he has been killed after getting captured.
Left out a whole bunch of details but that was the gist
Pt 1 Gathering of people at night , some kind of celebration or party… There appears a round ball hanging from tripod… About fist size… Someone brings it to my attention… It has a very strong electromagnetic field… And it seems that when i, along with R and someone else all have our hands on it, the rest of the crowds energy is pulled into the center… And it feels like we cannot let go. Feels like an entity and when we are touching it our Will has become weak. Pt2 We have left the gathering… R and I, and are driving along a scenic road, with incredible views in the distance, reminding me of the Bay Area, around mt tamalpais and muir woods. We pull down into a wooded area and i see two black panthers. I tell R. We decide we should be careful, as we did not know panthers were native to the area. We walk around, and lo and behold come into contact with ‘the Ocelot People’. They are human ocelot hybrid looking creatures, bipedal, beautiful graceful elegant, ocelot markings along the shoulders and legs in areas, well built and athletic.. At first im a little weary but they seem interested in us and several come out of the forest where they dwell. We speak to them. They are a species that are not native to earth but have come for there own reasons. I see two very young ones do a crazy ninja jump across river next to forest… They are fascinating entities. In our conversation they end up showing me, thru a projection to my ‘inner vision’ of scenes of a city environment where there is no food and people are breaking into restaurants and buildings trying to scavenge any bits of food they can find. The energy is intense, and chaotic… Panic and survival of the fittest. Im then in the environment of the city and gather with some others and we escape and make our way to the mountains…. Where we have some makeshift dwellings and an assortment of people from different times in my life. Something is going on and at one point R and someone who reminds me of saul goodman from breaking bad begin looking thru our setups… Electronic equipment and tools.. Etc… For ‘bugs’ … Weve been compromised and ‘tapped’… They leave to the main building to discuss, and i feel i want to go help but im left to clean up and put away into these closetlike impenetrable structures the rest of the groups belongings…packing away mattresses and blankets and the like, and then gathering the group. Pt 3 Im with my siblings at my familys home in the forest..i notice that my sister has lost most of her hair and just has a long golden ponytail… I comment on it, and she stands in the center of the dirt road and lifts her hands to the sky and begins a yoga pose sequence, with light reflecting from her golden ponytail, and i feel a sense of Awe and Mystery and Gratitude for my family.
I saw her face in a dream and knew that she was me just a child just a wild apparition running free but where to hide when the light peeks thru to spaces that remain untouched by truth where to hide when I die forced thru the threshold to life, birth, earth river, flame, sky… …I chose this moment to swim thru the sieve I chose the mother whose heartbeat I recieve till the lightning strikes me and I am born, torn from the watery depths shorn like wool from my mothers lips…as she whispers me, sings me into Being, breathing, teething seething underneath for those phantoms and thieves who starve the souls who carve the coals from the mothers folds, strip her of her glow, furnace flames grip and will not let go, let be, let come to me this hidden dream, a birth to be recieved, a slow moulding of individuality though sheltering unity, ah, but disease, follows me, I heard her cry, teardrops slipped from her eyes, my eyes, mothers thighs have been violated, raped with scraped knees she begs me now, recovering from the crowds jeers and cheers and fears of what lay beyond the tunnels, the ponds that make up her body, the veins that feed the brains that bleed the sanity, leaking in streams humility, dripping it seems, splitting the seams of this alltooreal dream, and she closes her mouth to keep out pollution to keep in the solution to her fears, to her years of writhing in misery, to be delivered from humanity(s)weet plea, please, hold the hand of the motherland, surrender to life and birth and death on earth it’s all too soon it’s all too blue it’s all a cycle of force and food, feed the seed, need the me that slips thru tunnels soft like dew slips thru caverns to be born to you…
BlissNinja 