Posted in life, Poetry, Self-discovery and growth

Water

Each drop of water is precious,

Each has been here before.

Every drop of water is timeless,

they are souls that return again and again

not to the worlds they know,

but to the worlds they are, that are within them.

Always here, whether as rain, dew, lake, ocean, sea –

Whether they fall from the heavens

or spring up from the Earth; gather as bodies,

or in pools…

They know not what they are,

only that they are –

And all are just one form of the same being.

As are we –

We are each every one of these drops of water,

as infinite, as vast as the Universe.

Contained in a single form, and yet…

without form at all.

We are always here, we always return.

We are always transforming, evolving, changing all we touch

changed by all that touches us.

Every phase, every cycle water flows through

are also ours too.

All part of the entire Universe

as much as it is not just part of us; it is us.

We hold the memories of water,

because we are the memories, just as it is the memories

of us.

We are not all different, not so much as we like to believe;

We simply are.

We are one and we are the same –

I am you, are he, is she, is they, are them, are we,

part of the same whole, created from the same love;

Freedom is our destiny, even as destiny lives in our freedom.

Still, despite our [separate] perceived bodies,

interconnectedness is our truth, as our existence brings life

to the world it finds itself in, and the spaces it occupies –

Because we don’t live in the world;

The world lives

in us.

 

27721
Posted in life, Poetry, Self-discovery and growth

Shadows

I think I’m ready now
to face down my shadows;
The ones that burrow deep
and that I attempt to run and hide from
even in my sleep.

I’m not afraid of what they’ll reveal,
not even fearful of what they’ll make me feel.
I don’t  worry about how they’ve marred my soul –
I determined long ago
I’ve never really been completely whole.

But;
That can change,
admitting this even now feels incredibly strange.

I moreso fear they’ll tell me
what I’m sure I mostly always knew,
that I self-sabotage; spiritually self-harm,
to avoid success and its extolling due;
That I also abhor failure, too…
Though I learn(ed) from my many mistakes,
I most often fear never quite having “what it takes.”

They’re gonna expose my flaws and faults
in their rawest form,
they’ll shatter my guards
and I have to look into my own eyes
the(se) tempests of my soulstorms –
admit to all the lies
I told me –

Admit that even though I so clearly see
my own pain and sorrow,
my tidsoptimistic nature
said I could deal with it all tomorrow.
Though that “tomorrow” never came,
I’ve been delaying my own destiny
to save face; to hide shame; to not fight; to own blame.

My shadows are all the pieces of me that  never got the chance
to shine,
that were gradually dulled and covered over with the scabs
of time.
Lackluster shells of former selves
discarded and left to rot
on dusty, forgotten shelves.

I know they question me, my ego –
ask why it was so easy for us to so quickly
let them go
so far away, and so further deep –
to fester and grow;

My only answers as of now
are tears, and…
Well, I honestly don’t know.

But fear can no longer reside here
and must be released,
to once and for all answer to me
the key to unlocking my own peace –
The ultimate goal I wish to exceed.

Yeah, I’m ready now…

Maybe, all this time,
I just never knew or acknowledged how
strong I’ve always been;

And just maybe,
multihandedly denying my own strength
has been my greatest sin.

 

17721
Posted in life, Poetry, Self-discovery and growth

Transmute

Sometimes,
I just sit
and allow myself to feel deeply
the emotional agitation
and pain and sorrow
that I absorb
from others
as I progress through my days
and allow to blend
with my own…
And I
hurt for every soul
who knows and endures
such agony…
Then I release it screaming
to the edges of the universe
tearing rifts into the cosmos
I imagine it
leaving trails of healing warmth
in its blustery wakes
as it leaves.
I take on every soul-shredding
wave,
letting it all crash over me
endlessly, violently, tirelessly
until it subsides
and there is no more –
of it to take, of me to give.
All is calm.
For the briefest of moments
I am vulnerable, exposed;
Human.
In the leftover shallows
between infinity  and continuum,
I am no longer weak;
I elevate a little more,
I transmute.

Posted in life, New Work, Poetry, Self-discovery and growth

Know Me

Dinner tonight was

Ben & Jerry’s

and

a shot of rum;

Not melancholy or troubled,

not even stressed.

Just…reminding myself

that sometimes it’s okay

to eat and drink things that are bad for me

for the good of my own pleasure.

Now and again, indulgence is necessary.

And besides,

why in the hell would I ever

model my entire life after

beings of

flesh and blood and flaws

who don’t even know me

like I do?

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

Watch Me Rise

I never get to write when I want,
someone always has a need –
And I bleached my favorite layering shirt
It only sorta kinda hurt.

I may need a cup of tea.
Or maybe a little time for me;
Could be that I’m internalizing anxiety and worry –
still meditating,
but lately, in a hurry.

My hair’s getting long now
and it’s in need of a trim
My scalp is sore
send moisture please – hydration?
Prognosis is grim.

I gained 5 pounds,
for the most part, I like where it went…
but this pudge on my waist ain’t taking the same hints.

I wanna walk,
go clear my mind
spend time with the moon
but there’s just too much going on in the world
this time.
Soon come, and coming soon…

I wanna blow trees
like a mischievous breeze
follow my thought streamers
through subconscious skies –
ride the clouds…

Watch me rise.

As long as I always
know my soul
I’ll simply find other ways
to hold myself in control.

My mind, my spirit
gently roam
but I never get
too far from home.

Posted in life, Poetry, Self-discovery and growth

Intrepid Dreams

Dreams are both

perplexity and marvel,

I’m still learning to understand

how

such wispy fragments of subconsciousness,

subtle forces of will

so intrepidly insert themselves

into

a memory or thought

as though it actually happened,

or…could.

And how

the mind so ably creates

such vast space to transcend,

to exist within,

to unify with imagination.

I always wondered

at the capacity

of the psyche

to delineate the blurred edges between

perception and actuality,

heightening consciousness

beyond the pinnacles

of enlightened liberation.

Posted in Forgotten writings, Poetry, Self-discovery and growth

Tone-Deaf in Continuum

Highly intense,
and so much more awkward;
lapses in social skills and judgments
results of consistent self-isolation
from being ostracized
in public space…

Because, never give them the opportunity to do it for you…

Time spent in my own mental
space
stripping me of the ability
to properly converse
with other persons of being…

writing all my conversations
with myself
into continuum –

Those who’d talk to me
soon quickly found
I’m conversationally tone-deaf,
either too intensely enthused
over things that didn’t matter to them,
or awkwardly-anxiously bumbling along,
self-conscious odd silences
interspersed with diluted outbursts –
just trying to keep up
with ebbs, flows, and full stops.

Afterward, obsessively replaying,
unending cinematic
repetition –
Visions that torture the consciousness
and made me wonder what else
I could’ve said, at the time…

Never once,
did I ever [stop to] consider
my partner(s) in these discussions
might have been experiencing
the same doubts, notions,
and internal confusions
as I.

And even today,
I sometimes still struggle
to articulate,
even with all my words
and colorful profusion of expression
I still feel always
that I’m missing
some critical element.

 

 

 

04 September 2019
Posted in New Work, Poetry, Self-discovery and growth, Thoughts and Ruminations

Used-Tos (Next Episode)

I have some trouble

telling people all my “used-tos,”

It leads down this rabbit hole

of more things

I used to do, think, be, say, see.

And it seems like

I have issues,

but honestly, they’re more like

Editions…

every one more distinct than its predecessor,

and each

a different minefield

to navigate.

I used to fear judgment,

But now,

I wait patiently

for the next episode;

Life is an unending season.

Posted in New Work, Poetry, Self-discovery and growth

Rough Draft

I love all the
squiggles, scratches,
scrawls, scribbles
carets and paragraph marks
unexpected brackets, write-overs, and random
annotations
that swirl boldly through
most of my handwritten work.

They all highlight mistakes,
yet also remind
how quickly the mind
moves
to make sense of
all its random, unordered chaos
and then
create art
from it.

Inspiration tames madness;

I keep all my rough drafts.

 

15 October 2019