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


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?


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.


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


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


Soul Scream

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



Crystalizes, Pure
Enveloping, Halting, Healing
Blanket, Secure - Spring, Rebirth
Encompassing, Growing, Dancing
Nurtures, Inspires
New growth



 Anchoring me with tangled branches rooted deep to the ground
 Envelopes my heart and my mind to this place where he doesn't need to be
 Emerges through the darkness growing towards light
 The eye of the storm in this chaos he is calm and safe
 A dream so peaceful that you wish to never awake 
 A flicker of light in the darkest of nights
Holding within his branches my heart
 Leaves camouflage my soul so he won't have to let me go


My Love, My Fear

My Love Strong, Purpose Understanding, Unwavering, Sheltering Light, True - Cold, Nothing Falling, Sleeping, Clouding Shadowed, Mirage My Fear  CL

My despair

Despair is this to me.
 Lies that I saw more clearly than I could him
 His face unchanging the sound of the motion of his mouth
 His tone as deceptive as his promise to care
This is Despair to me.


I Wish...

I wish
You could fly
Back here to my open arms
I would entwine your heart with the warmth of my love
And never ever let you go again
So that your smile would be the first thing I see
And I could prove to you that I am all you will ever need
And you would never want to leave


Guiding Light

It Hangs there 
Next to me
Creating a kaleidoscope in my mind
Coloring my world
Thoughts are his shining armor, and he is my Knight


Dusk Til Dawn

Milky, Shadowed
Hazing, Enveloping, Intoxicating
Silhouette , Moon - Life, Sunshine
Highlighting, Awakening, Daydreaming
Rising, Painted citrus


Because I Am

Because life is never fair
Because she couldn't let it be
Because she loved her mind's future
Because that love came in disguise
Because she was like the moon
Half of her was always hidden


A Poison

It's a method in our head that's so septic we need to shed. 
Desperation shreds the heart and rips the mind apart. 
Like dreams slipping down the drain
  Volcanos consuming the rain
  Poison eating the blood in a vain. 
Looking forward at your own back
You only see a cycle through a glass crack. 
A deserted den,
Broken pens,
With letters nowhere to send,

This is how it's been.    


Tuesday, July 26, 2016

A Modern Day Common Sense

We all know dirty wealthy white elites rule the world, we all know police are beating us down daily and stealing our crops, we all know we are being poisoned so we go to the doctors to get another prescription from big pharma, we all know that democracy does not work, and we all know that there is no one else to blame except for ourselves. The same sad pitiful face we look at everyday we wake up and look into the mirror wishing it was magical. 
All the activists that don’t act except on the occasional. All the protestors that protest on the occasional. Yes, all in vein. Think not? Think again. Who really notices your actions? except those who are already by your side? No politician notices behind their marble walls and cherry oak desks with their Italian leather office chairs and their high thread suits. 300,000 in campaign contributions please and no fear of federal indictments. 
We have reached a Plateau, a stone wall, a cliff face and no one else is going to attempt to help us overcome. Who is awake now is it. The rest that refuse to wake up will remain content with the way things are and are unreliable. We are the last stand and it is time for action not weekend protesting that no longer matters. Todays generation has no common sense nor has even read Payne’s Common Sense let alone read a book longer than 47 pages. What will it take to regain what we as humans are gifted at birth? What will it take to get back to the roots that had ideals and rights protecting us from the exact position we are in today? 
We have no more Daniel Morgans or Paul Reveres, we have no more Washington's or Paynes, no more that are willing to say we are fed up. What do we have? Pokimon Go and Xbox, Pepsi and Coors, Sports stars getting paid millions, technocrats and aristocrats, the RNC and DNC, Vatican and U.S. Military, Rothschilds and Rockafellers. Enough distractions to occupy the minds of the weak. Just weak enough until you try and take these things out from under them then they will fight for their enslavement. They will fight their own blood to keep their head in the sand. They will disassociate to kill people they don’t know for reasons they have no idea what for. They will kill to disassociate.
So stay confined to your soap boxes and your free speech zones.
I see that which you choose not to see, that which you choose not to hear, that which you choose not to act upon.
I fear that which you have no conceptual grasp for. A fear you cannot comprehend.
I walk on streets littered with the unread leaflets of Common Sense crumpled and stained with your blood.
I breathe the fowl air burdened with the stench of bile and gun powder and I cough in stride.
You understand not what they show us, what they tell us, and what they do to us.
You pay them to lock you up. You pay them to kill you.
You pay them to spy on you and you pay them to indenture you.
You see the mask smiling at you but you fail to see the plot just beneath. You fail to see the slope of a nose staring at you from atop the pyramid.
You fail to see the red and blue pulsating flicker rates during the half time show. You fail to see because you really don’t want to. 
It can’t be this way you tell yourself. They wouldn’t do that to us you remind yourself.
There was a time when this country was considered great. Land of the free and home of the brave. Yet somewhere we lost the sense of our past, lost the sense of who we are, and lost the sense of our sense. Do our bombs burst in the air or just our fireworks? 
What does it mean to live in a free society anyway. We have freedom to speak yet we have hate speech. We have freedom to practice religion yet we kill in the name of religion. We have rights and freedoms yet I would ask what are these and where are they. 
There was a time, not long ago, a time in which good men fought for good ideas. Fought for good hearts and good causes. Causes like the most important one called freedom. An idea long since lost in still frames and 30 frames per second. Lost in translation and translated for us to save time. Public relations telling us what to like, believe, fear, purchase, and preach. 
There was a time when great men met at a pub to discuss livelihood, prosperity, and happiness not single serving conversations like what I hear these days. Sports scores, who said what about who, how intoxicated you got last night while chugging a beer. It sickens me to think that the future of such a great foundation is left to such a tragic institution of puppets. I dare not ask what are you willing to die for let alone fight for and quite honestly the idea frightens me the level in which one would go to protect their own enslavement. Slavery that is actually dismissed and never even spoken of. It’s not hash tagged, it’s not trending, and it’s not the buzz yet it lurks right there in front of you masked with a smile. 
How did we not become indebted to France rather than bankers whom never held let alone fired a gun? Individuals who care not of your well being but rather their own well being of their deep pockets. A small group of individuals whom shape the world you live in with financing all sides guaranteeing their return. 
I dream of bumping into a Franklin or Jefferson. Chit chatting with George Washington over some home distilled whiskey discussing the evolution of revolutions that have freed men over the generations. Joking about making the Red Coats run with their tails between their legs. Out numbered 10 to 1 and yet an idea triumphed. No shoes, no socks, sometimes no food or even clothes. Musket ball rations and sleeping under the stars… in the snow. These men would and are weeping over our insolence and unpatriotic dissonance. Rolling in their graves wouldn’t begin to explain the discourse of their ideas of a future in our hands that we have so readily relinquished to another crown, another Red Coat. These men wouldn’t fight with us. They wouldn’t even fight for us. 
Your food is taxed, your homes are taxed, your goods are taxed, your labor is taxed, your entertainment is taxed as well is your life. Taxes on your health coverage, prescriptions, medical procedures, and your death. Your vehicles are taxed and your vacations. Your children's education and trust funds are taxed. 
You pay to send your children to a war for control over oil that you are taxed for to purchase. 
You send your children to foreign countries to kill humans that just want to live like you or I without persecution of way of life.

Every man and woman on this planet lives in sin because they will not help their brothers and sisters. They will not stand up for what is inherently right and morally conscious. They do not love all if any and they refuse to speak truth. You remain confined in a diverse division of a population determined for self destruction