Posted in life, Poetry, Random

Internal Echoes

When I ask my name in my own head

do I actually hear the voice that says it,

and is that voice my own, or another’s?

Or, is what I “hear” simply a response to the question

I asked?

My Higher Self  never fails to remind

that our minds don’t belong to our physical bodies;

They only occupy them.

And we are not our thoughts.

Thoughts are simply reflections

of the energy our actions mirror –

internal echoes of external stimuli.

Posted in life, Poetry, Random, Self-discovery and growth

Cosmic Wilds

Rat-a-tat-chatting with my inner Divine
wanting to innerstand my perception(s)
of time.
Stories of past lives swirled among my
consciousness –
sudden actualization.
Overstanding Time not as a measurable unit
or concept,
but as a living entity that exists
to record each moment
as they happen to be…
Time doesn’t move;
it is perfectly still.
So that it can catch and cradle
each uniquely crafted occurrence and memory
as they hurtle  through the cosmic wilds of multiversed
spacetime.
They are the stories written across our stars.
I felt a great sigh shiver along my snynapses
and She said, “If you don’t stay focused; this world is gonna pass right by you.”
Suddenly, I was back in my bedroom, remembering I only
came in here to refill my favorite lighter.

 

04121

Posted in life, Poetry, Random, Thoughts and Ruminations

Questions.

Is it greedy of me
to keep inhaling
until I burn my fingers?
Am I overindulgent
if I break my fast
to share meals with my family?
Should I care too much
if the numbers on
the scale keep creeping and climbing
up and up?
What spirited vines;
Does it matter if there’s a little jiggle now
in my thighs and around my waistline?
Does it make me too selfish
if I
ignore calls and texts
for my own peace of mind –
and is it stealing if I take
a few extra minutes
for solitude, to realign?
Have I done this so very wrong
everything came out right?

And why is it I always question life
when I’m just  remembering to live it
while I’m drifting
at night?

Posted in Poetry, Random

Purple

I’ve always felt

my favorite color is purple.

And maybe it truly is;

But, still…

When I look around my life –

in my wardrobe, at my environment and surroundings,

my adornments and accessories…

I see more greens and aquas,

grays and blues

and random other pieces

of Earth’s rainbow.

Not as much purple

as there maybe should be

if it is indeed my favorite color.

Or, maybe it’s just that

my subconscious tastes

aren’t very biased

and I like being surrounded by

various shades and colors;

Yet the one that most soothes my senses,

resonates within my consciousness,

captivates my awareness,

is purple

and all its endless hues.

Posted in life, Poetry, Random

Shots Fired

Firing shots at the world,

taking them in long strides

fiery bullets

that warm my chest

and numb my thoughts

suspending them like snowfall

at midnight.

Just pour me over the stars

and crystallize these precious moments

before time melts [them all] away.

Posted in life, Poetry, Random

force majeure

High thoughts

higher dreams,

elevation.

The physical plane

can’t clip my wings.

My flower

a gift to life

infinitely expanding, exploring,

floating along

my thought streams.

Nectar, so sweet

rare taste of magic…

Trying to imagine the  whole of life

at its core

bends the mind almost achingly

a brute force majeure:

hurts so good, I can’t think –

only feel;

I see everything –

and want crave

more.

Posted in life, love, Poetry, Random

One Track Binds

This one track on your playlist

shreds my heart to tatters

and I dread the days

your mood’s on

shuffle.

You said

You’re  not into my

genre;

One of your favorite vibes

is a spoken sonnet

of liquid love –

[And] now I know you meant me.

The binds of contradiction dig deep.

I overstand (here) holding

pieces of me that I tried

to give to you

and you rejected

with unkind excuses

and passive untruth.

29 August 2020
Posted in life, love, Poetry, Random

Horcrux

I pressed my soul somewhere
between the pages
of this book,
Like the most delicate of flora
we seek to preserve –
It’s a favorite of mine.

I wrote the stories
of my heart
into its chapters
the ink’s bled deep
into its fibers…

I can recite every word
from memory
and recall
my favorite phrases and passages;
Sometimes with laughter
other times with tears.

But it means nothing to you,
my horcrux,
because when you open it,
the pages are blank
and dry
and you don’t understand
the entire universe you’re missing out on
by not reading between
the lines you can’t see.

My book of light
doesn’t shine very brightly
in the fog –
it’s only a beacon
that burns away the darkness within
The shadows I vanquished long ago.

You’ll remain illiterate
if you obscure yourself in
the fading light
of others’ daydreams…
Misgivings always haunt
our nightmares.

Didn’t you know
reading in the dark
is bad for your eyes?