Thursday, May 11, 2017

The Attraction

A shadow in the distant horizon comes towards me and I squint to observe.
An orb tinted from the outside world with shaded colors of brilliance.
As this orb gets near I see shapes take form as my eyes adjust to the beauty contained within.
An inner orb of light emerges as the tint fades away
And I peer into the light.
A center orb emits a bright yellow white light that surrounds everything with in until it meets its canopy of shade.
Illuminating all as it touches lives and hearts.
From the center orb are two spiral cones of purple, green, and blue twisting to a single point on either side of the orb vertically.
A thin knowledge of soft gold separates each color like a division of time is softened by memories.
I am lost staring into this awefull beauty that captivates my mind and soul.
Images from the past and future make their quantum leaps from one side of my brain to the other.
Tingles of joy strike my fingertips and toes as I try to comprehend the sight standing before me then I go blind and see her smiling.

Friday, May 05, 2017

The predicament


Raised in a world that knows no boundaries
A world that knows no hate and no love at the same time.
Confounded and constrained, consumed and inflamed.
I adopt an idea, a reason, a belief.

Do no harm
and no harm shall come of thee

I practice it in my actions and my words yet I stumble upon a grey area.
An area that temps logic with heart, love.
Love for all and love for the unnamed, the hidden, the unknown.
A riddle constructed from a rubics cube.

Do no harm
and no harm shall come of thee

They would label it as complex or confusing.
An unexplainable feeling and thought to which the only confusing path is whether or not to take it.
An uncertain certainty, a simply complex concept.
A fearless fear.

Do no harm
and no harm shall come of thee

To resist speaking ones heart and mind for the sake of another
Is to save and protect all others
To be lost in ones mind locking away thoughts and emotions
Is to build your own sanitarium and keep the outside world from such honesty

Do no harm
and no harm shall come of thee

What is honesty anyway.
Who must believe it in order for it to be honest?
Lies frozen in ice thawed in time
For none such spoken shall be revealed 

Do no harm
And vengeful pain shall come of thee

🦆

The Unconscious Faith

I can make you weep and I can make you take a leap
I can make you love and I can make you hate
I will make you believe and I made you fear
I am what you read, I am what you need.

You’ve read my pages in vein and still you lost your soul
My words misunderstood with each passing turn of a page
and only complex questions remain.

Hast thou not read your purpose laid before thee?

Only freedom of mind can contain
You strike war against your brothers in rage
You buried alive your fathers love you stole

Art thou repentant?

I fell for you, I sacrificed for you
Like a bell ringing in time, like a mother giving her last life.
You saw not what you need to survive thus your time passes whilst you contrive

Hast thou understood thine?

You think you can force control, you think you are alive
You cause vengeance and anger, you cause jealousy and strife
You rape, you murder, you steal, you lie. What shall I do?

Fear not the furious anger beset onto you for the fear you beset onto others

I can make you weep and I can make you take a leap
I can make you love and I can make you hate
I will make you believe and I made you fear

I am what you read, I am what you need.

Wednesday, May 03, 2017

To MJ because you deserve as much

The Book 

I sit upon these shelves`` dusty and dreary 
Alongside old stories, mysteries, and fables.
I sit amongst these leather bound and paperbacks suffocating
My cover replaced and my spine undamaged but my pages, well my pages tell the tale.

My pages turned roughly a thousand times but a thousand more to come
They lay permanently dog eared and annotated from inspirations sought.
Only to be returned to the shelf below until the next reader comes along thirsting for the distraction, 
distraction from their own misery and haunting demons.

Thirsting for a reason, relation,  an escape.
More footnotes and foot prints left behind wearing me further away as my bones are dissected and analyzed.
Until every paragraph, until every line until every word has been looked at forwards backwards and upside down but the only thing found on their fine tooth comb is the fibers from which there very own pockets have woven.

Then, like so many times before, I'm placed back on the shelves, a little lower and now I sit below the populous, 
below the popular.
Why such fads should take up so much shelf space I dare not ask.
Is it to be my final resting place down here I dare not think.
My cover will grow stale and stick to preface from settling moisture in the air.
My pages will yellow and my bold black print will lose the battle with memories.

Few lookers have passed and paused at me. Fingering through my delicate pages skipping past the artwork looking for what I am not quite sure.
They place me back and dust themselves off then swiftly snatch up a newer bolder kind of love.

Then, just when I thought my placement on this shelf was worth no more than a magazine stand  someone stops at my index number and looks adoringly towards my dusty spine.

She picks me up and gently wipes away the dust and the slight moisture forming at the bottom of my embossed title.
She opens my cover with such delicacy and attention that I relax like never before.
My pages turn with a peaceful breeze singing along with my words.
So she stops herself from reading any further  as not to spoil the adventure , and packs me up carefully. 

When I awake, I find myself as if on display,  on display for the whole world to see.
See my restored pages and touched up ink like the first edition as it reads inside my cover.

She reads me every night and every night she wants the next chapter.
And the next chapter only comes too soon and she wants another, and another.
It would seem that the book she chose grows with her every day and every night.

Stories of adventure, tales of love, and manic mysteries to be solved by her.

Tuesday, May 02, 2017

The Agonia

I battle with my mind in the Agonia at Agon in pure agony as I slip into unconsciousness.
The tears of pain aspirate my pores and sting my cheeks.
Falling downward, no, perhaps upward into clouds of toxins laced with dreams of fright and incredulity.
A cognitive despair floods a flicker of light amongst the flames of whirling wisdom.
I sit up only to find myself laying down and I glance the mirror whose face shows not a smile in this reality but a frown.
A radiant wake of light storms through me from the stars 

The wake does not stop to ask why. 

Leaving a wake of unspeakable truths. A wake that’s awake and aware before I am able to convey such thoughts. My mind beats me to my tongue so it bites down suppressing the conception of an emotion that is to be raw as fresh flesh.

The wake saw me draw blood before I felt it in my mouth and still doesn’t ask why.

It circles my heart in my chest cavity as it beats and thumps against my ribs pushing blood outward begging to be freed filling my ears and head with a lucid inception of self. A dynamically stagnant dichotomy.

The wake sees the pain within and still doesn’t ask why.

I try and grasp this wake with all my might, all my mind, all my insight but the wake only throws me down, unaware of the damage left beneath it.
Emotions strewn about like limbs post war on a battlefield. 
Proclivities pierced by words not said, not thought, not felt like a cannibalistic porky Pine.


The wake has transmuted into a tidal wave and does not allow me to ask why.

Wednesday, April 26, 2017

The Fall of Love

The smile fades as your heart pumps the happiness out hard.
The pulsing spreads from your chest outward. Infecting your throat and stomach.
Buckling knees and swirling heads paves a path of vertigo unsympathetic.
You reach out to friends and family like a passenger on a sinking ship reaches for a life vest that has already been torn to shreds not replaced because you thought you would never be in this position again.
Life sustaining and life detaining, the water so dark covers you. Chilling and real it sets in that there is no one but yourself to save you.
And your legs grow weak, your arms tire, and your mind fogs. Numbing to the eventuality of the inevitable reality that once the darkness consumes all the light, your spark is lost forever.
To fall is easy. To raise up is what’s to be cherished and praised.
To overcome, come from behind, the underdog all speak to the truth.
The truth that there will always be the darkness trying to beat us and keep us down. Infesting us or our loved ones infecting them with their hatred for love only to sabotage what we built.

It’s so easy to fall.

Thursday, August 25, 2016

I Am Experience

I Am Experience
August 24, 2016

Many would refer what I’m about to explain as something religious and only the faithful or dedicated souls could experience but I am here to let you know that you to can be in the path of God. You are able to hear, see, and feel the creator’s presence within you.
Earlier in the day I was hosting a show with my spiritual brother and friend Tootle from Georgia. The topic for our show The Road Home was living in the now and we had on a special guest from Alabama who was quite religious and spiritual so we had a wonderful discussion on air about the importance of living in the now versus dwelling on the past letting things get you down and keeping you down as well as future stressors that might arise causing one to downplay their own capabilities. We discussed certain events in our lives of our awakening and enlightenments that changed our lives. I spoke about the time when I popped out of my body during sleep and was attacked by forces I didn’t understand. Things pulling me down in all directions in a dark vastness of nothingness. During this attack I partially awoke. I say partially because I couldn’t speak even though I was crying out to anyone who would listen, I was lashing out to grab ahold of something but I couldn’t move. I was paralyzed. It was pure darkness and a very low frequency that I somehow mustered the strength to break free from. I was cold to my own touch when I fully awoke and my heart was in pain as if my child had just been killed by my loved one. I knew there was something behind this experience but at the time I had no idea what it was and where the path was leading me.
After the broadcast I retired to do some research for an upcoming show regarding the sixth extinction of life on Earth. I settled down with a cup of peppermint tea on my bed with my laptop and started my search. I found some great material like the Fifth Man and other stories of ancient humans that still live today such as the Andonameise people and other tribes that still practice their culture. 
I came across the Native Australians who had been in Australia before the previously known three names of the Island continent and how they were forced into the north eastern parts and now number around 400 people. It was quite sad really to see the effect of so called government help with tribes. Giving them things they never needed becoming dependent and not wanting to tend the land or hunt for food. You can see the devastation this would have on an already declining population suffering from illness and disease brought to them by travelers and foreign colonialists. 
I was at the part where the tribe was drumming and dancing to the lazy god to protect them during a journey they must make through crocodile country which I found fascinating in itself but I started to notice that the drumming was quite hypnotic and I was observing myself entering a trance state and I began to hear my tibetan bowls start to sing. It was very low at first but was noticeable.    
At some point I fell asleep not knowing when this occurred like most dream states we fall into but there was definitely some missing time. I woke suddenly to a feeling of complete panic as I couldn’t speak, see, or move and the singing bowls were vibrating and singing so loud that I couldn’t hear my own thoughts. Loud enough I thought to break glass. My computer to was making the noise as was anything else in my room and even my own body was reacting to this sound feeling. I could feel every single cell in my body and it hurt. Like as if everything was going to vibrate apart and yet at the very same time a frequency was holding everything together. It was as if a spirit two angles were  either competing or battling for my attention or body. The sense I got was that the destructive spirit was the masculine and the creative force was the feminine. This lead me to believe that these spirits were not spirits at all but rather one single force… God. The sound and frequency I was experiencing was the word of God, logos if you will. A force of creation and destruction wrapped all into one belief shattering revelation.
I was suddenly awoken from this state only to be launched into another more what I would say a localized understandable environment. It was a house but a house like no other I’ve seen yet it was familiar to me. Like a scene in some deep cavernous memory long passed. The area of the house was large enough that everything echoed in a single room style with pillars spread about in what I knew to be some significant pattern of geometry only to be observed in its beauty from high above looking down. There were no internal dividing walls and very few windows or at least I thought there were windows because there was some natural light casting remnants of nature amongst the dim darkness that lay within. As I walked in through the front door down a walkway with the columns on either side with a few feet between each column, I noticed just how vast this megalith of a house was. It seemed to go on forever yet I could see the walls on all sides of me at all times. I knew the walls were textured with some kind of plaster because the walls were covered in reliefs of scenery of different eras of humanity. Close to the front where I came in were beautiful designs of clan warfare, hunts, camp fires, and mating in a most animalistic fashion I might add. On the opposite side of the house were designs of what looked to be invaders approaching towards me so that I was standing in between an impending battle for dominance between the clans of old and tribes of the new. After several feet of time travel I look back to the left and see carvings of the same invaders but when I look carefully I see that yes the invaders from the tribes are there but they are mingling with the clans in a variety of ways. Some obviously telling humorous tales from their past, some showing the clan elders new hunting weapons, and some venturing off with ropes tied to some clan women taking them towards the next relief designs somewhere off towards an ocean with long boats at the shores.
I was struck by the fact that these weren’t just a beautiful sight of precise architecture or artwork but actual history as it was unfolding before my very eyes. Humanity creating culture, civilizations forming, trading, and who else knows what I would have seen but something caught my eye.
I could see a raised area off to the right and as I approached I noticed that the area was a bedroom of sorts. Three stairs separated this bed area from the rest of the house and there I saw her sitting up under the covers reading a large book. I remember her from the past and the present both of whom share a similarity in soul and heart. A peacefulness and caring of others emitted from this woman and I addressed her as Cari Ryan so even though she wasn’t looking like the Cari I knew, everything else about her was Cari. To explain a little about this confusion which turns out not to be confusing whatsoever, since I’ve never actually seen Cari my brain had to interpret the next closest person that I would understand to be Cari and it is important to understand this particular aspect of this vision for it is crucial to understand the duality that results from such good and such evil. 
There was a man there as well whom I have no idea of the relation to me he had but I saw him as clearly as I did the angular set white Italian marble on the floor with absolute black granite tiles around each column at their base. He had dirty blond hair that of the stereotypical all american dude. Well built or perhaps decently fit and I had the impression he was mostly nude although it wasn’t part or at least significant to the vision but he was shirtless. I took from this that simply he was a muscular individual. He was also looking through eyes that were mostly closed but I could see the glow of blue shining through his slits.
I knew his primary objective was to keep me away from Cari for some reason and he would use all his power to do so and he did. There was some kind of battle whether it be a mental one or a physical one I don’t know but the feeling left me in the understanding that it didn’t matter. The vessel I was controlling was not my physical attributes at all. I was a gangly, scrawny, geekish type of person. This too was a lesson within the vision being that it doesn’t matter what I was but rather who I Am like what I was told in the vision leading into this house of eternity. At any moment I could be torn apart or created all within the same instance and so though I was going up against someone much more stronger than I, my task was clear which was to understand the knowledge given to me just before the battle. It wasn’t to rescue some dame in distress or princess locked in a tower but it was a battle for heart and soul. Specifically mine. To know thyself and walk my path with all knowing certainty that I will be taken care of whether it be by my own fortitude or that of my loved ones or that finally of my creator. I now understand blind faith more than I ever did and from a completely new perspective. Having the knowledge that can only be described as something like water, settling where its destiny lays and flows where it’s supposed to go and waves crash in trouble. It is, as I am it, I am.
As this non-physical confrontation was taking place it came to me that it was evident of what I was witness to. The house and its columns, the floor pattern and its white and black tiles, the historical timeline set in stone, and the dualistic aspect of everything before me in both beauty and abomination, good and evil, light and dark, day and night. It was all here and as this struck me with absolute certainty, absolute knowledge, wisdom, I snapped back through the house at a speed that I can’t even begin to describe but it was faster than creation itself, faster than sound, and faster than light and I was back in a paralyzed state crying out in silence at the top of my non-functioning lungs, my heart pounding at a non-existent pulse, and thrashing about to grasp onto something that wasn’t there because I couldn’t move. I was back in the word of God whom spoke with both creation and destruction simultaneously. With love of a father and love of a mother. A self creating force, self aware force that proceeded to cover and seep into every space between every cell, every atom, every thing within and without. I felt as if I would be thoroughly annihilated yet the love and peace of the vibration was holding everything together. I was ok because I am and always will be.
And just like that, a snap of the finger or pop of the gum, I was sent back and instantaneously awoke.
As I was coming to my bearings I noticed something within me that at first I couldn’t explain so I moved onto what my brain would have to say which I didn’t like or feel was right at all. Then I had an urge to check to see if I was really there laying on my bed and sure enough I was only not how I fell asleep. My laptop was put away turned off, I was in bed and clothes put away, and then I checked my pulse. This is where I started to get frightened because I couldn’t find a pulse anywhere and I could swear I was cold to my own touch. It felt as if someone had been sitting on my chest as well and took me quite some time to regain full awareness again. I then remembered that I had recently packed my singing bowls so I got up and pulled down the box they were packed in and to my amazement they were not only warm but they were still vibrating and singing ever so slightly. I also pulled out all my crystals and they were also warm but the biggest trip was my amethyst pyramid. It was heavy and warm and when I took it from the desk the wood was also warm underneath it.

I was fully expecting to wake up at this point but soon I realized I was awake, truly awake and it took going in and out of a dream within a dream.

Wednesday, July 27, 2016

Lips Of Wine


Lips

It poured.
It cried.
It laughed.
Again it weeps.
Drained dry from salty water.
Untrusted it retracts into its cave where to dwell is its dwelling.

Darkness blackens shadows.
Minutes become days.The pain numbs head to toe,
forever to walk on burning coals.

Wishing not to go through this again
Wishing the pain to be rid of this shell.
To lock myself in my own minds attic
Swallowing the dulled key and Removing my hands while sleeping on a bed of earwigs.

Useless, worn, and no longer.
my heart confounded, weakened.
Still, tis my heart.

Fate From DuPont


I am awakened by an erie breathing sound. Slightly erratic and inconsistent.
Tis a dreadfully warm early morning to which causes this erie sound.
An erie breathing sound from DuPont my faithful companion.
My best friend lays sprawled on the carpet which holds his long haired heat sucking it from his body through his hair into the thinned layered carpet and returns his own heat back to him.
I am awakened to his breathing but why on this day?
Why of all days on this day does he awaken me for I know not the answer.
Like so many things that I do not know an answer but I know I must awake for him.
By his side on the cool and relieving concrete drawing out the dreadful heat I console with him.
Discussing many matters to which immediate attention is needed.
I begin to ponder not about trivial things such as the meaning of life for in the long run there is no meaning for we all are fated by whichever collapsed Neutron Star happens to come about our doomed planet but rather that latter fact in itself.
No more than my mortality be focused upon than the eventual ending of the cosmos supersedes my own being, my own existence.
At some point we all will be devoured atom by atom, molecule by molecule and spewed back into the darkness recycled through the great refuse center of the universe and yet I dread not my own demise but his.
The Death of DuPont.
Slowly inching its way into his life and mine, sleeps cousin scavenges his way upon us.
Waiting just long enough for the right time to strike.
Twas only a few moments of this dreadful breathing before I felt an overwhelming urge to vacate what I can only imagine on his behalf to be an stone oven known as my bedroom.
It is as if I could hear the dry air from each pant of his breath begging for moist replacement.
I arise from my awakened slumber and fetch him a bowl of semi-cold water but that doesn't suffice and he doesn't even bother to try to quench any possible thirst that this dreadful sound still ringing in my ears has caused him.
I know he wants some cold air relief so I dress and walk behind as he leads the way to the back patio.
He seems anxious standing at the door knowing that soon it will magically open and he can sleep sound momentarily.
It is in this instant I realize that as humans we are blessed and cursed with a certain knowledge. A knowledge that some just sweep under the rug until its too late and some share it quite openly.
A knowledge that only we humans possess which for some reason I can envy DuPont for this.
For this is death.
Death that he doesn't know will eventually come and put him to sleep one final time.
I've taken this lesson from him in the past not truly knowing why but nonetheless, live in the moment for nothing will last forever.
Otherwise simply stated, 
What is the point?

CL3


Do you ever wonder what the ocean feels like on a calm sunny day?
Or how the trees must feel on the first day of spring?
Or what the geese ponder on their flight far away?
Or what Mother Earth thinks what the Sun has to bring?

A lifetime could be spent manifesting such fate
but we would miss the times left to chance.
Should it be left to games we play, and wait?
Or a destiny simply a match at a glance.

CL2


This is my dream, that I’ve never shared before
And these are my words, I’ve never said before.
These are my thoughts, I’ve never lived before.
So this is my love, I’ll never be alone anymore.

This is my smile, always hidden inside
And this is my heart, always worn on the outside.
These are my eyes, giving me new insight.
So I’ll never be cold anymore

Sometimes sleeping
Always dreamin
No one to wake them
I can’t save them
But I am living my life the way it was meant to be


How many days have you counted
and how many days have passed
How many times did you wish it would last
A familiar commentary from the past

Your heart will sing again, I’ve seen it in my dreams.
Your smile will blind the sun, a smile before unseen.
Arms wrapped as one, from a fairy tale love scene.
Two lights blending as one, illuminating for all to see.


Sometimes sleeping
Always dreamin
No one to wake them
I can’t save them
But I am living my life the way it was meant to be

CL1


The unforgivable sleeps with the unforgiven
And the unspoken is clearly heard,
The unseen is a new vision.
Like ghosts haunting for spirituality 
Like spirits fading like ghosts
A thought from a dream dreamt into a thought.
Blistering the mind for a reason 
Starving for a purpose, meaning, a reason yet fulfilled.
Like the building of a storm, the impending calm.
Like a bird returning to her chicks with the morning catch.
Like a swirling thought with no breeze to exercise the dream.
Stepping the first time into a world onto your own
A love born from the death of a sufficant 
Seeing through hearing of a splintered realm dividing old paths and habits.
A love divided becomes a love united

The Distance


I wish
Miles did not create distance
So you would not be so distant
So I would know your world, just as you know mine
And the cold would dissipate
So I would have the warmth that radiates from within you
And the noise of the world
Would be the background, and would no longer matter, if there were no miles

CL

Soul Scream


Darragh
Captured my heart
The moment I heard his voice
A lifetime ago, but only a year
He silenced the screams of my soul

CL