say your name

with her finger on the trigger

she closes her eyes
and in that moment silence
in that moment darkness
when she opens her eyes
there is no trigger, no gun

No fear

only the forest

the only sounds are birds
and the rustling
of wind
high
up in the tall trees
the only colors
are
green
brown
and remembrance
she is sprawled on her back
wondering how she got there
and slowly remembering
the dream jolted her back
to this place
which seemed like home
a foggy voice
spoke in her mind
like a radio station
coming in and out of range
"say your name
say your name, say your name"
the voice was telling her what to do
"what is my name"
she lay there blinking
trying to remember
"I know I have one"

she could make out patches of light
blue grey sky
perhaps foggy
or a raincloud
between branches
but still
it was Light
sweet precious light
she thought
patterns
of leaves played
and danced with light
she still had not moved
time had disappeared
my name is light daughter

yes, that sounded correct

Light daughter
began to move
she sat up and noticed how easily
her body was to shift around
none of the aches and heaviness
of before

what was before? she wondered. and giggled.

but she did not wonder for too long
this world was fascinating
and so familiar
looking closer
at the trees
and their long lovely branches
she noticed they were no ordinary trees
there were little bits of light
shimmering
as what appeared to be tiny stars
this made light daughter happy
she began to laugh
her laugh was deep and powerful
and when she laughed
the whole magical forest sort of laughed with her
mirroring her delight
she would discover
that it mirrored all her emotions

she wandered around this place
her feet almost sailing
across the forest bed floor
covered in soft beautiful leaves
in so many colors
even though they were dead leaves
since they had fallen
Even though they must have been
dead leaves
since they had fallen
they mysteriously remained
cool and soft

she began to encounter
other light beings
and she knew
they were her sisters and brothers
although she did not communicate
with spoken language
when she saw one of these beings
they would embrace and laugh
as if reuniting
it felt right
she stopped questioning
beginning to feel she had come home

since time had disappeared
she had no idea how long she was in this world

voluntary isolation, sex is ready compensation

people's park
is pretty polluted with people

conflict and animosity
we enslave each other repeatedly
now children wear chains
as a choking fascist fashion statement
strangled shock value
to all those who ignore by denial

they have got you on file

rules, laws, regulations
restrictive stars and stripes
bars and whips and chains
we must feign acceptance
of control

when it is mind over matter
dimensions grow flatter
desperate to escape
taking shape bending vision
on the debris scattered
grass
beyond division of race gender class
you find what was already there
behind a drugged mask of denial
you stare

they have got you on file

image is our identity these days
ultraviolet
our color binding mending ways
I sketch outstretching
creased wrinkles
in the dense overgrown
areas
too  much happens
out cast
old too fast
exclusion warped self
some dusty back shelf
voluntary isolation
sex is ready compensation
safety in numbers
blinding light falls like splinters
a thousand frozen winters
in the autumn
of spring
which sprang into life
out of delicate strife

now tell me
do you still want me?
I want to scare you away

keep you here with my passive strength
I regret it all, and none of it.

as a teenager then later still swirling and unfurling

you would push strands of curly brown hair
between two fingers
staring absently thoughtful
you would lean
your elbow
on the car window
staring above your hands on the wheel
mind spinning

the multi track mind I inherited from you
spinning at least 5 tracks all at once
my exterior mask and pseudo fronts
do little to disguise my surprise
when

you would scream at me openly
two minutes later
whistle as you walk
sparkle when you talk
glistening gleam it would seem

the only time you slapped me that I recall
I sat down and put my arm around you
as you cried.
it would not please the spirits watching if
either of us lied.

letter of empathy to a lost soul

note: when it comes to relationships, people often lack integrity, when they do, let them go. it is not worth forcing them to rekindle their own confusion. walk away

and then Microphone Drop!!! if totally necessary


you need shelter from the storm
of your personal confusion
you need a time of repentance
so the sickness of this denial can go into remission
you need something to hope for
bursting the seems
of your seemingly impeccable suit
covering your shame and pride
you have So much to hide
I pour a prayer onto a page
from your potential healing
I recover well from the stinging shocks
of betrayal
when I spoke to your mother
who carried you to term
into life on this earth

I heard her concern and level headed questions
her calm and love seeped through the telephone line

to meet mine and intertwine


"boy I'm not the kind of drum you play one time"

-Marian Hill

Where are you from? Debut poem

This was my Debut, at Café International. Lower Haight.

shout out to Denenka, so sorry if I misspelled that, it has literally been over a decade!! Stay strong!

Where does the poetry come from?

Reside originate
begin in my body
not necessarily my head or heart
probably my fingers or lower back
sometimes people see it pouring from me
in form of life or light or energy
that is why they draw near to me
Poetry has ancestral origins

ancient as blood
as rivers of truth
running red and deep through our veins
poetry has a pulse
it is a living breathing entity

which allows me to be a vessel for its power

it is the way for the ancestors to speak to all of us
listen carefully
for the whispers
their laughter

their warnings

break the mold

I require plenty of space
you can see clearly on my face

when I feel crowded or too controlled
I will continue to break the mold
there are parts of me you will never hold

there are moments when these thoughts erase

I stand up awkwardly as my fingers lace
through my hair weaving frustration
through strands of resentment
there are parts of me you will never see
these are parts that will always be free

I value my freedom too much to want to take away
anyone else's

so I work on freeing others
from themselves first
but
only
if
they
want
my
help

I require lots of room
let us not expect too much too soon
we need lots of space
to let flowers bloom
and all of a sudden
standing over me you loom

blocking my precious sunlight
I step away to avoid a fight

since I require space
it is only fair to give you
some of your own.

i am the grandmother of beginnings

the sister of reluctant endings
I can be reduced to snowflake ashes
to the foot prints on your eyelashes


I am the essence of constant change
and will rearrange
all you ever tried to believe
give you room to grieve

I cupped sand in my palms
gazed at the ocean
grasped roots between toes
digging feet into earth
fertilized
a whole new angel

with a wicked tongue

I unleash silver pellets of truth
and I don't mean to brag
I am a very young hag
in the sweetest sense of the word
there is
I am newborn
a whole new wand, reflection in the pond
of your life
the ripples, the strife
the sacred knife which severs
all you wanted and tried to believe

I will give you room to grieve

space to breathe
to move in

move into me.

unspoken way-- reminds me of Community College days

I tell you everything
in the unspoken way

in the silent stillness
why haven't you heard me
?

I am the night time feminine force
discreet within your bright hot noon world

I have told you so much
all in the unspoken way
you have desperate thirst to know
why have you not understood?

all I have shown  you on this surface has
been a distraction

all that you see in the images are distractions
although you are drawn in by the images
it is not image you truly seek

the mirage
the precious
illusion
you adore
and cling to
no, that is not what you seek

I am the night time feminine force
discreet and powerful
within your bright hot noon world

casting shadows of cool relief
I whisper blessings in your ear
but mostly
I tell you everything you want to know
in the silent stillness
in the unspoken way

almost as

love takes it's toll
it is almost as heavy as solitude
I am told

life existence presses its weight against my shoulders
and I am strong enough to carry
the boulders
my struggles wrapped in the private container of my heart
philosophy can only skim
a surface of a mystery
when I saw you I thought
I had known you before
but I have fallen for such strange and useless
feelings before

It never led me anywhere

but back to the start.

I am wary of love and I am wary of you
getting older and possibly wiser
crazy enough to allow
your deceptively familiar fingers
into my swollen pregnant universe
sullen fantasies
lifted by the release and sweetness
I had almost forgotten
I have been denying strong desires
sex is really only sex
not that important
I fall into familiar traps


But the shifting within
is not painful or hollow

I choose to allow in
the beauty

patience

Am I trapped after I say

I love you?
because I find myself wondering
what that means
when it slips out of my mouth
whispered into a lonely darkness
after that phrase has tossed itself
around in my mind
and I question
its origin and intention
while asking
am I trapped now
am I free?
how is it to be close to your love
to have mine intertwine with yours
like my body did so naturally
as you lay on top of me
underneath your weight
pressed against the sheet
I felt that was pretty sweet
to be trapped that way
because I want to say
those powerful words
I want to be able to release myself at will if necessary

New to you

I want to reach for you but
you are not here
with me you are somewhere out there
while I have swung my attention around
to face this page
under the light
near my music on my bed
and I wonder was it something I said?
was it something I did?
was it all that bad
I was becoming
somebody
I did not want to be
you sea
and I wonder if I will have a chance
to let you in
close to the place you were just beginning
to find
I can feel you right now
in a silent moment
under the sky
with a fixed stare
and a cigarette in your hand
all of a sudden I wonder if anyone has ever been
as bad as me whatever bad may be
and I know

this is new to you

so please do not think we can overcome
inevitable discomforts
and plot twists
because our story is being written as we move through our days
as we move through
our days
move into the next moon phase
believe in me and trust the beauty you have experienced so far
find the keys
figure out what they are for
as for all the beauty, just know

there will be so much more

1. unfastened and 2. hugging solitude

when the situation grows
too intense

my mind defers to my heart
I think 

Oh NO, don't start
please do not allow this to become another hum drum
self inflicted drama
I am not ready for it

I never will be
there is a difference
between internal and external conflict
and there is more then meets the eye
when it comes to that difference
because internal causes external conflict
causes internal

spiraling all over the map
until you ask your self
which came first?
until you hear the clap
of thunder or that focus being pulled under

by details like loud splashing raindrops
on the sunroof
Damn I have no proof
and when it is all over
I will have been right
or you were always wrong
what
is the line
from that song
I always quote someone else
when my mind defers to my heart
because my mind was never able to recall
the emotion we recorded
like that night in bed
I thought I hit my head

your hands spun out of control
my frantic questions and fears
were swallowed along with unshed tears
collected painfully through the years

so then I am detached
I suppose unfastened
while you gently close
my eyelids with the tips of your fingers
beautiful hands, resonant sands
and I press my lips together
thinking
oh no
don't start
while I constantly allow my mind
to defer to my heart
I think I want you to stay


"hugging solitude"

he hugs solitude
framed by a cloud of dark lashes
dust flashes
fragile certainty in my words
ricocheted back into my mind

rattling around a slow realization
of what could and would never be

( he already has 4 letters from me and my yearbook)

do I give him some of the rest? put him to the test?

those eyes are always what pull me under
the secrets encoded into shrieks of silence
tearing up everything with the flame of
what I do not know

fell for one with a dangerous mind
what do I want, I stare at the question
like it is a familiar stranger

you cannot depend on intellect
to get you there
in the world where you settle for
good enough
or do not settle at all

you cannot lean on anyone
lest the wood of their patience splits and
you find yourself falling

there is nothing there, you are fucking the air
not me

someone pauses above you
cloud passing
blocks your sun
scraping the wound between unsuspecting legs
he says
he don't feel pain
he don't give a fuck

scarred flesh will always heal
you pause above someone
drunken stupor
cloud passing
you imprinted an older scar on
a bedroom floor

how am I supposed to tell him
it is unshed tears from a re-opened wound?

former formal invitation by refusal
shudders through me

say the word "slut"
I will lick the word from your lips
if you can ignore me with practiced indifference
discreetly blocking the window
painted shut where hideous light
falls like splinters we avoid

fall upon the imprint of the scar on the floor
I watch you drink it with boyish eagerness
wholeheartedly absent
unworthy of  a poisonous gift

tell me now, are u still interested?
yes I move to scare you
or keep you here
with passive strength
watch curiosity turn bitter
it tastes funny but I watch you crave the fix

I learn to regret it all
and none of it

no absolutes but please be well

what if we did this

call a line of deities in the form of 3

triple bless, clean up the mess
put the shadow to rest. there will be another test.

Father son and Holy Spirit, I know you can hear it

Maiden, mother, crone keep me in the zone

Elegba, Yemaya, Oshun, on the way to the moon

love innocent
and freely, quietly

as a sacred act
as the world falls to bits
around us knowing
we have wings
with their own desire
to outstretch themselves
poems flowing
from my rivers
Yemaya
moving up to surface
even as the world falls to bits
she is ready to spill over the edges

whole within herself
knowing
no separation
within
or outside
eruption and containment
like the lava
that destroys
the miracle force
curing itself
herself
himself
between gender completion
begets a blend of
intentional mixing of qualities that
gave us our featured

faces switching places

what is your piece of mystery
place in history?

should

we

take

our bodies

where the

spirit dwells?

back page tidal wave

holy scripture of memories
words
become
sounds
or scent

locked into esoteric meaning
and swampland stretches
in front of the minds eye
so much
to discard
to sift through
the words of the poet
as attempts to distill
desires to kill
while attempting that
freedom
elusive to humans

you think it will be a trap
but it can free you
that which has captured
can free you
that which hurt you
can heal you,
not unlike homeopathy
tiny dose
of the poison
not unlike the
yin
and yang
a bit of what ails you
and a bit of what fails you
becomes that bit
of what derails you
until you sail through
showing the world what it is that you do
that Pandora contradiction
to educate, to uplift
to draw from sources
and to trust

naked eye/indeed

some wounds we go to our graves with
we go to our graves
with some wounds
indeed this is true
and not even the gods we are
heal them
that we are gods
that we are blind
to god within
we are blind to god within
and the ability
to heal those ones
those dagger words
piercing hearts
doing damage
to internal organs
our vital parts in need in deed
of sight we lack get back on track
directly
in some sort of direction
toward healing

sentiment sorely exposes
my eyes are sullen damp roses
and this sight beyond
what visibly appears
to the naked eye
does not slip by

and can make me cry

Angst-- now and again

You are nagging
at the back of my mind
whimpering
in the corners
and back pockets
of my awareness
still I am
part of this grass at last
content with the flaws
that are permanent laws
of nature


NO such thing as too much writing
my pen spills words
like Chevron spills oil
polluting paper with the poetry of soil
pulsing
through my ink veins
onto dead fibers of processed trees
please
on my knees
I lost the keys
to lust ignited by trust


Part of this grass at last

Bad words, heads up warning!! funny parody of all dumb hip hop!! please enjoy

Religion

god is the wild one
undefined unable to be confined
while
the Goddess is inside a mold
the centerfold of self pity looking pretty
while we
enter
the damage
looking way the other way
must pay
for what has been done
god
is locked
into
the sun
shining fierce
ultraviolet violence
looking the other way
so you cannot pay
your debt
so you forget
what is inflicted unconscious
and haunts us
twisting in discomforted
regret
these are thoughts I only just met
fragile gripping
slipping from an unstable system
and lost at what cost?
too complex for one god to share
why don't we compare our common ground
so far I have found a spirit which connects us
struggle and survival are upon us
god and goddess alike
straight bi or dyke
every shade of every creed
love is the common seed
which if given time will grow
into more rhyme
then I could know or comprehend
around the bend
someone is hiding
afraid of confiding
the risk of losing

god is undefined
goddess is kept confined
within the centerfold
of self pity looking pretty
lipstick coated sulk of self pity

the mold I am told
of centerfold

is a
standard
of
"beauty"
unimpressive to me
plastic surface
beauty
always gets old
So please help break the mold
of centerfold
so Goddess is not written off
as playmate of the year

now you hear
the message loud and clear

What America Needs to Tell Obama

permanent record

what they call

a disability
a mental illness
a condition
might be backwards
misunderstood
freedom, a waterfall creeping
back the mountainside
a link to something forgotten
unidentified archetype
the question is ever present
the question of what is my purpose

faith is an answer, no longer a question
the dream always has the ability
to shift
depending on courage
depending on the dreamer
depending on vision
and there is no such thing
as a permanent record
a scare tactic
a threat
a fabrication just like we made up
money
we made up poverty
so we have become prisoners
by our own hands
by our own dreams
all that exists
in this control obsessed dream
of reality
is temporary

we dissolve
and when we dissolve
the dream shifts over

even what remains
eventually dissolves.

getting over you spell - part 1

you will soon have no power over me
you had power you were not even aware of
but soon you will not have it
I will take it from you like a thief in the night
you will wake up with a vague sense of something missing
you won't know what it is
so you will search in a daze
only to find nothing tangible gone
the feeling won't leave you
you will reach for something
a book, the phone, anything
you will feel it slipping away from you
(it will be my affection.)
so you will hold on tighter
grasping it a bit desperately
as the day wears on you will keep feeling
like you lost something or misplaced it
(it will be my attention and energy)
but everything will be in place
which further adds to your frustration and confusion
you will check for your pager, your wallet, your cell phone
 your iphone, your mini I-pad, and you will check for all of these
over and over
but you have all the items you sought
the feeling remains

you remember me

an ache takes over your heart
but you still do not understand why
you have lost any power
you ever had over me
and there is an empty space where my affection, desire
attention and energy used to fill

you feel the loss in your whole body
as if a part of you is gone

It will be me, I am gone.

both sides gather puddles

I could swallow you whole
with my eyes alone
but I won't do that
I could wish all the good things I could think of
to wish for you but I won't do that
I could rest like a raven on a rain battered fence
gathering energy for a storm
watching both sides gather puddles
but I have already been a raven
I have already wished and prayed for you
wished and prayed for you so many times
I could dream you into a new form
but my nighttime confusion is
wrapped around a burning log
getting ready to disappear into ashes and
blow away
on a strong loving wind

you talk-- 2003

you say Blessings
but your tongue is burning
eyes golden wicked
intentions all twisted
your favorite word is "bless"
your eyes golden wicked
intentions all twisted
your favorite word is bless
but you lack understanding
of basic respect

how do we go to the heart of huge contradiction
and reconcile

I wish I could flip a switch
to help you see all this.

preparation

I will open fully
spread eagle
rainbow shimmering
peacock feathers
eyes at the center

when it is time
when I am ready
when I meet
"that" person

then when the cloak is pulled back
the mystery revealed
is at the heart of the matter
and the comfort and ease with which I slide
into the newfound confidence
is a long awaited yet humbly received
Blessing
I must be radiating a warm intense glow
for all this attention coming to me you know
the tide will always reclaim
the wave back to the sea
after it flashes over the shore
but not before it leaves a lasting impression
on the sand
a sea shell or some other
lesson through beauty

phosphorescence

we formulate thought sometimes
from deep heart rhetoric
making us sick then sicker
and thicker then quicker
waiting for the art to start

heart forms thought swarms
my arms reach out to grasp
meadows and falling shadows of loveliness
my tamed love tenacious
waiting for the art to start

you see we ask not what our television
can do for us
but what we can do for our television
and superficial swallows
nest comfortably
fake birds perch on AstroTurf

choking politely
uttering muttering
empty fluttering
sound
against foam core background

yet hope abounds
and love prospers
like phosphorescent tides
swelling seasonably reasonably
never choosing sides
remaining hidden
from those who refuse to see
what has always been there
for beneath sullen mounds
Hope Abounds

below the dry pretentious heaving masses
shipped off to their bullshit classes
wearing corrective lens glasses
sitting impatiently on their asses
beneath all of that
is the great below
the undertow
what some of us know
to be rich fertile soil
beneath all the turmoil
and the green shoots
spring out of nowhere
into blossom!

For Maria, Amandi. as the ACORN story began......

I saw deeply into your own sadness
before you even told me about it
how tired your eyes are layered with silent secrets
and when you live in a cloud
the world unto itself
that is poverty
race
and class
are interlinked
and descend upon you
like a night mare
tightening around
you in your sleep
we work hard
to keep our minds free
our hearts pure
our lives meaningful

we work for social and economic justice
yet those are only words
until a few cold raindrops
of reality hit your face
wind carries away fantasy
slapping against the truth in its place
fighting for justice
has a ring to it
but when the sun goes down
what does it mean if we still
hunger
ravenous in the way we move touch
reach for self destruction
what does it mean
if at the end
I return to my side of the tracks
if we are doing all we can
and it still does not feed every soul
or nourish all the seeds

we console ourselves slowly

I saw deeply into your sadness
before you even told me about it

on the North Wind

never gone
only changing form
but never gone
always changing form
but never the same again
yet no need to cling to moments
as the dream keep moving us
with forces that have no name

the library of memory
is stacked full
and when we look to the sky
we know
she could be returning
on the North Wind

I send a whisper down
the roots of the trees
and out into the heavens
how grateful
that our paths crossed
how honored to be graced
with her presence

simply said
there are no adequate words
that capture the light in her eyes
and quick wit
the depth of her kindness
how she
helped people
including myself
become
higher deeper versions of themselves
with feet planted firmly
on mother earth
this ethereal woman of earth
modeled those heights and depths
every time I saw her

and still we know
she could be returning
on the North Wind

"need to see, seem to be" from summer 2003

pull me away
show me the whole dream
what I need to see
what I seem to be
set me free and let me rise above it all
float down
layers shedding away
bones to ashes
back into form and consciousness
controlling movement
lose control let go
set me free
what I need to see
what I seem to be
I love you with my whole heart
it was always only you
from the start and you must forgive
my ignorance
my absolute profound nothing to offer
but what is it I seem to be
seeking the question over the answer
I pray, have no idea
nothing is solid
I yearn to harbor these contradictions
until we become old friends
dusty and wrinkled
all the images thoughts emotion
fall away
like walls of paper crumpled

we know how to destroy
but how to rebuild
where is my luminous essence
where is yours?
I love you deeply with all of my heart
my body in passionate full swing
without that broken wing
there is time for all this
time is frozen for us when we discover
luminous essence
and transcend suffering
until we plateau
and then it is ever so
ever so lovely
the struggle is a quickening death
so many ways to struggle, to destroy
but how do we rebuild?
thoughtless, motionless
my hungry body is trembling


I have sat with this longing for long enough
terrible desire like raging fire
at the foot of the mountain
creeping up to devour it
my love
you are this bottomless well
still waters run so very deep
the mountain is so very steep
this rest is not quite like sleep
it never quenches my exhaustion
where are you when I need you
where is my guardian?
gate keeper
eagle spirit
of this dream?

where is my guardian?
this distilled essence of pure hope
the one I could truly trust
and if I crawled inside you
would you keep me safe?

this faith is the way of those who have not forgotten
who have not lost everything.

hold hands

Disclaimer:
I wrote this in a past era of my life, and it comes off as critical of Psychiatric medication. I have more nuanced views on the subject these days, so keep in mind I was in my early twenties when this piece arrived out of my pen.


There is a slow sweet depression
like condensed milk
evaporated cane sugary sweet
filling in those hard to reach places
filling in the void
causing tooth and mind decay, in equal measure

it may fill the places the television destroyed
left us numb, needing something more to fill
so. many. voids.
sub urban white washed confusions fills
these fragmented soul places
while that main stream deposits itself
directly like intravenous fluid
into the sacred river flow

of our unsuspecting blood

demons with overcast eyes have a special surprise
in store for us
which is the dirty secret
that our consumption of these poisons, toxins, chemicals
could lead to our demise
a cotton candy flavored depression descends into suburbia
and those who grew up in the era of Reagan and Bush
maybe sleeping soundly at night
blocking out the sounds of our parents fights
waking up to Saturday morning cartoons
filled with pretend violence
that echoed the true horrors spilling all over the planet

So, give us our Prozac, Zoloft, Depakote, shove it down each throat
See if it quick fixes this pain
Tell us for writing our stories that we are insane
Give us our diet pill, pain kill, window sill to jump from
we will arise like a phoenix
from the ashes of a sickening deception
Re-unite with Truth Tellers

let's change the whole face of this whole race

and let's Hold Hands this time.....

would it be death?

poetry bleeds in
around the edges of our pain and distractions
it peeks around the corners of our suffering and pleasure
the samsara cycles of this existence
poetry holds our hand
over shaky bridges into uncharted territories
I am
leaking poetry
overflowing from these experiences
it comes in spirit codes
in a language that is
both familiar and foreign
no matter who you imagine yourself to be

all at once I miss the rain
and I am strangled by longings
that linger like unwelcome guests

what would life be without them?

without the struggle
would it be death?
pleasant?
death
and release
a way to cease
longing, yes
a way to cease longing
a way to peace

so many roads open
I am so hungry
for travel

Want to ask

seeing the echo of emotion of your ancestors
etched into the lines of your face
I want to ask the saints if they know you
Trauma has built up inside you
and designated moments shine with the releasing
of your past betrayals
that shining is implicit
like your secrets
rapture comes slowly
quietly like an animal
upon its prey
you have nothing to say
your silence is a huge thud
in the middle of the room of this culture

hollow, resounding

her anger was transformed
from raw screams
into a sullen rage
and resigned sighs
her body was an unwelcome cage
learning to articulate these particular kinds of pain
was a rite of passage
she wished she could give other women
but the burden in her heart only grew
and whatever could replace the original innocence
she had been robbed of
was too late

bones ache for you -- from 2001

laughter and desire mingle together
leave my skin humming
my bones ache for you
fingers pound the table drumming
waiting for a chance to release
this energy it seems
will never cease
he used to speak of innermost thoughts
without a clue what was in my heart
or perhaps even in his
I haven't time enough to write of all the men\
who posed as something they would never be
dared turn their faces toward me
reeking of dishonesty

yet my faith is resilient
my hope is renewed
open your eyes to see
you walk in beauty
everyday you are present\
for the unfolding of dawn
the peaceful closure of twilight
into the blackness of night
while my bones still ache for you
its true
my faith and hope are strong
inspiring song after song
helping patience along

those boys-- from 2003

It was always those boys
on the edge of life and death
teetering with wicked grins
at the snake pit below them

It was always those boys
with nothing to lose
masks of fearlessness
willing to do anything
willing themselves to laugh
at razor blades
pressing into their throats

It was always the wounded ones
piercing stare
sad boys, conflicted and self contradicting
the more complicated, the more attractive
or so some thought
the ones who knew what it meant to be fully alive
since they lived so close to death
on purpose

it was always the misunderstood boys
walking thin lines on the edges of respectable society
seizing each moment and sucking it dry
then discarding the empty shell with a careless toss
in pursuit of more

it was always those boys
hungering for a love they could not fathom
craving comfort they could not imagine
it was always those boys

"Background of what you have done"

how do you live
when you know
suffering incessant
of souls forgetting to chant or play
or pray locked away
from that voice inside
that would save them
from spells of bad day after bad day

how do you die
knowing creation so aching
vibrant, stunning
how do you die
comfortable with your mortality
putting to rest
your mortal coil
returning to the original soil
a setting sun against the background
of what you have done
what have you done?
to deserve the peace of death
the here after
a cosmic cradle
where you rock gently
back to the source

how do you live, how do you die
how do you cry
knowing you could smile
into the abyss
surrounding this.

surrounding existence

how do you die
heartbeat racing
pulse pounding
breath taken?

one and only

in the midst of his absence
grows a question

what lamp is lit from within the heart?
not the one he could detect

she coded her language
with sounds from a sacred river
but he heard profanity

so they had been taught the
exact same colonial language
the byproduct of colonialism

somehow the mirrors she held up
to his reflection
looked like abstract confusion

temples of common worship
felt like prisons
with whom was he supposed to identify?

nobody could offer him freedom
he knew he was his one and only liberator
first and foremost during any trapping
of any oppression

she intended to hold up mirrors
that softened his quiet, sometimes near deadly
blows of self hatred
self inflicted
ever so contradicted
by pretty philosophies
gathered in the corners of his
mind, gathering cobwebs
of neglect.

His blanket

Everyday
he gets up in front of the world
thinking he is back stage
and the actual stage fright
would consume him
if he realized
how many eyes were really there
so he has the blanket of pretend
much cozier than what is real
and what is real slips so fast
from his rapidly swimming thoughts
but pretend is just fine
just
perfectly
fine.

factual reality has never impressed me

bleeding from the place of no blood
the color red begins

at all beginnings there is a pain
relinquishing itself to the rain

the rain sets forth to heal
to wash clean and flush away
all that we no longer desire to feel

I could say then, that I am behind the wheel
I cannot be mass produced but take heed,
I can be put to good use

so we collectively beg
please do release that sick desire
to tighten the noose

the arbitrary movements that dangle in our minds
as factual reality
have never much impressed me

show me sincerity
complete with a few of your flaws
what have you caught in your talons
or jaws?

gratitude spills into my blood stream
circulating
walk with modulated breath
always contemplating

glow from below- part 2

trading in her worldly face
she moves closer
to hear the revelations from the human race
dressed in words like eulogies
she retains heat in the common freeze
kindred spirits appear
but she knows she must wait until the coast
is truly clear
the patterns of forgotten kinds of speech
beg her to get spoken, and heard
and nobody seems to be there
when the imprisoning windows get broken
first second third
time she says-- oh yes of course
(eagerly)- I really should give myself
deadlines, like everyone else
--I need deadlines right?
even though these arbitrary rules define
your sight
define what you see
glowing next to me
define what you know
when to clench, when to let go
define how you preach
the very essence of what you teach---

she could stare holes into the computer screen
with the storms as her teacher,
if you know what I mean
with urgent messages encrypted
into the names of people I knew
who had wings to get them through
they told me who among my crew
was an "angel" as though I already knew
they said "you will see" so cryptically
they told these open blossoming secrets to me
all around me changing fast
all around me transforming the past

glow from below- part 1

she hung from the stars
with a considerable glow
that nobody could truly see from below
was it sunlight
that put up the fight
masking her light
until no longer able to overpower the night?
she shrugged at the irrelevance of
wrong and right
at the place
where she trades in her worldly face

A little about astrology!

This was originally featured on: EarthWeAreOne.com and Whats-your-sign.com

Native American animal symbols can encompass just about all the animals, and their symbolic representation to the many tribes of the Americas. To narrow down the focus a bit, this page is devoted to birth animals – or zodiac animals.

Many Native American cultures have the belief that a person is assigned an animal upon the time of birth. Below are interpreted Native American symbols of the zodiac and the characteristics for each one.

Otter: Jan 20 – Feb 18

A little quirky, and unorthodox, the Otter is a hard one to figure sometimes. Perceived as unconventional, the Otter methods aren’t the first ones chosen to get the job done. This is a big mistake on the part of others – because although unconventional, the Otter’s methods are usually quite effective.

Yes, the Otter has unusual way of looking at things, but he/she is equipped with a brilliant imagination and intelligence, allowing him/her an edge over every one else. Often very perceptive and intuitive, the Otter makes a very good friend, and can be very attentive.

In a nurturing environment the Otter is sensitive, sympathetic, courageous, and honest. Left to his/her own devices, the Otter can be unscrupulous, lewd, rebellious, and isolated.

Wolf: Feb 19 – Mar 20

Deeply emotional, and wholly passionate, the Wolf is the lover of the zodiac in both the physical and philosophical sense of the word. The Wolf understands that all we need is love, and is fully capable of providing it.

Juxtaposed with his/her fierce independence – this Native American animal symbol is a bit of a contradiction in terms. Needing his/her freedom, yet still being quite gentle and compassionate – we get the picture of the “lone wolf” with this sign.

In a nurturing environment the Wolf is intensely passionate, generous, deeply affectionate, and gentle. Left to his/her own devices the Wolf can become impractical, recalcitrant, obsessive, and vindictive.

Falcon: Mar 21 – Apr 19

A natural born leader, the Falcon can always be looked upon for clear judgment in sticky situations. Furthermore, thecharacteristics for this Native American animal symbol never wastes time, rather he/she strikes while the iron is hot, and takes action in what must be done.

Ever persistent, and always taking the initiative, the Falcon is a gem of a personality to have for projects or team sports. The Falcon can be a little on the conceited side – but he/she is usually right in his/her opinions – so a little arrogance is understood.

In a supportive environmental the Falcon “soars” in his/her ability to maintain passion and fire in relationships, and always remaining compassionate. Left to his/her own devices, the Falcon can be vain, rude, intolerant, impatient, and over-sensitive.

Beaver: Apr 20 – May 20

Take charge, adapt, overcome – this is the Beaver motto. Mostly business, the Beaver is gets the job at hand done with maximum efficiency and aplomb. Strategic, and cunning the Beaver is a force to be reckoned with in matters of business and combat.

One might also think twice about engaging the Beaver in a match of wits – as his/her mental acuity is razor sharp. The Beaver has everything going for him/her – however tendencies toward “my way or the highway” get them in trouble.

Yes, they are usually right, but the bearer of this Native American animal symbol may need to work on tact. In anurturing environment the Beaver can be compassionate, generous, helpful, and loyal. Left to his/her own devices the Beaver can be nervous, cowardly, possessive, arrogant, and over-demanding.

Deer: May 21 – Jun 20

This Native American animal symbol is the muse of the zodiac. The Deer is inspiring lively and quick-witted. With a tailor-made humor, the Deer has a tendency to get a laugh out of anyone. Excellent ability for vocalizing, the Deer is a consummate conversationalist.

This combined with his/her natural intelligence make the Deer a must-have guest at dinner parties. Always aware of his/her surroundings, and even more aware of his/her appearance, the Deer can be a bit self-involved. However, the Deer’s narcissism is overlooked because of his/her congeniality and affability.

In a supportive environment the Deer’s natural liveliness and sparkly personality radiate even more. He/she is an inspiring force in any nurturing relationship. Left to his/her own devices the Deer can be selfish, moody, impatient, lazy, and two-faced.

Woodpecker: Jun 21 – Jul 21

Woodpeckers are usually the most nurturing of all the Native American animal symbols. The consummate listener, totally empathic and understanding, the Woodpecker is the one to have on your side when you need support.

Of course, they make wonderful parents, and equally wonderful friends and partners. Another proverbial feather in the Woodpeckers cap is the tendency to be naturally frugal, resourceful, and organized.

In a nurturing environment the Woodpecker is of course caring, devoted, and very romantic. Left to his/her own devices the Woodpecker can be possessive, angry, jealous, and spiteful.

Salmon: Jul 22 – Aug 21

Electric, focused, intuitive, and wholly creative, the Salmon is a real live-wire. His/her energy is palpable. A natural motivator, the Salmon’s confidence and enthusiasm is easily infectious.

Soon, everybody is onboard with the Salmon – even if the idea seems too hair-brained to work. Generous, intelligent, and intuitive, it’s no wonder why the Salmon has no shortage of friends. This Native American animal symbol expresses a need for purpose and goals, and has no trouble finding volunteers for his/her personal crusades.

In a supportive environment, the Salmon is stable, calm, sensual, and giving. Left to his/her own devices, those that bear this Native American animal symbol can be egotistical, vulgar, and intolerant of others.

Bear: Aug 22 – Sep 21

Pragmatic, and methodical the Bear is the one to call when a steady hand is needed. The Bear’s practicality and level-headedness makes him/her an excellent business partner. Usually the voice of reason in most scenarios, the Bear is a good balance for Owls. The Bear is also gifted with an enormous heart, and a penchant for generosity.

However, one might not know it as the Bear tends to be very modest, and a bit shy. In a loving environment this Native American animal symbol showers love and generosity in return.

Further, the Bear has a capacity for patience and temperance, which makes him/her excellent teachers and mentors. Left to his/her own devices the bear can be skeptical, sloth, small-minded and reclusive.

Raven: Sep 22 – Oct 22

Highly enthusiastic, and a natural entrepreneur, the Crow is quite a charmer. But he/she doesn’t have to work at being charming – it comes easily. Everyone recognizes the Crow’s easy energy, and everyone turns to the Crow for his/her ideas and opinions.

This is because the Crow is both idealistic and diplomatic and is quite ingenious. In nurturing environments this Native American animal symbol is easy-going, can be romantic, and soft-spoken. Further, the crow can be quite patient, and intuitive in relationships.

Left to his/her own devices, the Crow can be demanding, inconsistent, vindictive, and abrasive.

Snake: Oct 23 – Nov 22

Most shamans are born under this Native American animal symbol. The Snake is a natural in all matters of spirit. Easily attuned to the ethereal realm the Snake makes an excellent spiritual leader. Also respected for his/her healing capacities, the Snake also excels in medical professions.

The Snake’s preoccupation with matters intangible often lead others to view them as mysterious, and sometimes frightening. True, the Snake can be secretive, and a bit dark – he/she is also quite sensitive, and caring.

In a supportive relationship the cool Snake can be passionate, inspiring, humorous, and helpful. Left to his/her own devices, the Snake can be despondent, violent, and prone to abnormal mood swings.

Owl: Nov 23 – Dec 21

Changeable and mutable as the wind, the Owl is a tough one to pin down. Warm, natural, with an easy-going nature, the Owl is friend to the world. The bearer of this Native American animal symbol is notorious for engaging in life at full speed, and whole-hearted loves adventure.

This can be to his/her detriment as the Owl can be reckless, careless, and thoughtless. Owls make great artists, teachers, and conservationists. However, due to his/her adaptability and versatility – the Owl would likely excel in any occupation.

In a supportive, nurturing environment the Owl is sensitive, enthusiastic, and an attentive listener. Left to his/her own devices, the Owl can be excessive, overindulgent, bitter, and belligerent.

Goose: Dec 22 – Jan 19

If you want something done – give it to the Goose. Persevering, dogged, and ambitious to a fault, the Goose sets goals for accomplishment, and always obtains them. The goose is determined to succeed at all cost – not for the approval of other – but those with this Native American animal symbol competes with his/her own internal foe.

Driven is the watchword for the Goose’s dominating personality trait – which makes them excellent in business and competitive sports. When tempered with supportive, nurturing family and friends, the Goose excels in all things he/she attempts.

In a loving environment the Goose can be very passionate, humorous, gregarious, and even sensual. However, lead to his/her own devises, the Goose may fall into obsessive or addictive behaviors that will inevitably be his/her demise.

"nothing is solid and everything is energy" article

 

It has been written about before, over and over again, but cannot be emphasized enough. The world of quantum physics is an eerie one, one that sheds light on the truth about our world in ways that challenge the existing framework of accepted knowledge.

What we perceive as our physical material world, is really not physical or material at all, in fact, it is far from it. This has been proven time and time again by multiple Nobel Prize (among many other scientists around the world) winning physicists, one of them being Niels Bohr, a Danish Physicist who made significant contributions to understanding atomic structure and quantum theory.

“If quantum mechanics hasn’t profoundly shocked you, you haven’t understood it yet. Everything we call real is made of things that cannot be regarded as real.” – Niels Bohr

 At the turn of the nineteenth century, physicists started to explore the relationship between energy and the structure of matter. In doing so, the belief that a physical, Newtonian material universe that was at the very heart of scientific knowing was dropped, and the realization that matter is nothing but an illusion replaced it. Scientists began to recognize that everything in the Universe is made out of energy.

“Despite the unrivaled empirical success of quantum theory, the very suggestion that it may be literally true as a description of nature is still greeted with cynicism, incomprehension and even anger.” (T. Folger, “Quantum Shmantum”; Discover 22:37-43, 2001)

Quantum physicists discovered that physical atoms are made up of vortices of energy that are constantly spinning and vibrating, each one radiating its own unique energy signature. Therefore, if we really want to observe ourselves and find out what we are, we are really beings of energy and vibration, radiating our own unique energy signature -this is fact and is what quantum physics has shown us time and time again. We are much more than what we perceive ourselves to be, and it’s time we begin to see ourselves in that light. If you observed the composition of an atom with a microscope you would see a small, invisible tornado-like vortex, with a number of infinitely small energy vortices called quarks and photons. These are what make up the structure of the atom. As you focused in closer and closer on the structure of the atom, you would see nothing, you would observe a physical void. The atom has no physical structure, we have no physical structure, physical things really don’t have any physical structure! Atoms are made out of invisible energy, not tangible matter.

“Get over it, and accept the inarguable conclusion. The universe is immaterial-mental and spiritual” (1)  – Richard Conn Henry, Professor of Physics and Astronomy at Johns Hopkins University (quote taken from “the mental universe)

It’s quite the conundrum, isn’t it? Our experience tells us that our reality is made up of physical material things, and that our world is an independently existing objective one. The revelation that the universe is not an assembly of physical parts, suggested by Newtonian physics, and instead comes from a holistic entanglement of immaterial energy waves stems from the work of Albert Einstein, Max Planck and Werner Heisenberg, among others. (0)

The Role of Consciousness in Quantum Mechanics

What does it mean that our physical material reality isn’t really physical at all? It could mean a number of things, and concepts such as this cannot be explored if scientists remain within the boundaries of the only perceived world existing, the world we see. As Nikola Tesla supposedly said:

“The day science begins to study non-physical phenomena, it will make more progress in one decade than in all the previous centuries of its existence.” 

Fortunately, many scientists have already taken the leap, and have already questioned the meaning and implications of what we’ve discovered with quantum physics. One of these potential revelations is that “the observer creates the reality.”

A fundamental conclusion of the new physics also acknowledges that the observer creates the reality. As observers, we are personally involved with the creation of our own reality. Physicists are being forced to admit that the universe is a “mental” construction. Pioneering physicist Sir James Jeans wrote: “The stream of knowledge is heading toward a non-mechanical reality; the universe begins to look more like a great thought than like a great machine. Mind no longer appears to be an accidental intruder into the realm of matter, we ought rather hail it as the creator and governor of the realm of matter. (R. C. Henry, “The Mental Universe”; Nature 436:29, 2005)

One great example that illustrates the role of consciousness within the physical material world (which we know not to be so physical) is the double slit experiment. This experiment has been used multiple times to explore the role of consciousness in shaping the nature of physical reality. (2)

A double-slit optical system was used to test the possible role of consciousness in the collapse of the quantum wave-function. The ratio of the interference pattern’s double-slit spectral power to its single-slit spectral power was predicted to decrease when attention was focused toward the double-slit as compared to away from it. The study found that factors associated with consciousness, such as meditation, experience, electrocortical markers of focused attention and psychological factors such as openness and absorption, significantly correlated in predicted ways with perturbations in the double-slit interference pattern.(2)

This is just the beginning. I wrote another article earlier this year that has much more, sourced information with regards to the role of consciousness and our physical material world:

10 Scientific Studies That Prove Consciousness Can Alter Our Physical Material World.

What’s The Significance?

The significance of this information is for us to wake up, and realize that we are all energy, radiating our own unique energy signature. Feelings, thoughts and emotions play a vital role, quantum physics helps us see the significance of how we all feel. If all of us are in a peaceful loving state inside, it will no doubt impact the external world around us, and influence how others feel as well.

“If you want to know the secrets of the universe, think in terms of energy, frequency and vibration.” - Nikola Tesla.

Studies have shown that positive emotions and operating from a place of peace within oneself can lead to a very different experience for the person emitting those emotions and for those around them. At our subatomic level, does the vibrational frequency change the manifestation of physical reality? If so, in what way? We know that when an atom changes its state, it absorbs or emits electromagnetic frequencies, which are responsible for changing its state.  Do different states of emotion, perception and feelings result in different electromagnetic frequencies? Yes! This has been proven. (3)

We are all connected.

Here is a poetic prayer to Pachamama I came across- enjoy!

"PRAYER TO THE PACHAMAMA...

Dear Pachamama, you reign in the universe with the intelligence of healthy balance,
listen to your children,
 intercede for us with the great winds, talk to the water, fire and earth.
Today we ask you to draw hope in our faces, give us the grace of your eternal breath,
cobíjanos with your brilliant sun,
guide us on the night of our lives with the light of the stars and the moon wise,
visionary join us on our journey through sacred dream and light drums.
Today we ask You to return the stormy forces back to their site,
we ask You to calm the troubled waters, to quiet the inner fire, that your wise intelligence be taken deep inside of us, where swarming and exacerbates excess is creating chaos.
Today we ask you to join us in the healing of our body and spirit.
You who are wise make us, your sons, instrument of salvation, today we ask that your blanket of light purify us and heal wounds and mistakes of our past, we ask you to help us clear our path of light.
Dear Pachamama, we glorify you for your flowers, your fragrance, the abuncancia your food and water that we drink.
In gratitude I offer you my sensitive preaching, I worship you, I speak in meditation and silence, You are always very present in my prayers.
Dear Pachamama, I promise to clean my wrong steps, my wrong thoughts and unfair attitudes, I promise to drink from the healthy river, to heal my brothers the animals and protect the forests. Today I promise to give food to the poor and to who reaches out for help.
In You our life is born, grows and ends. In You our life is lit and extinguished. We are your light, we are your body, your spirit. With solemnidad I return to dust when You decide."