Another reading from Show Heaven to the Sheep
Friday, March 28, 2014
Thursday, March 27, 2014
Wednesday, March 26, 2014
Better recipe for Lotus Cookies
Very pleased to be releasing this recording, even though it is still in the category of 'raw'. Hopefully soon I will have better equipment at my disposal for recording. Either way, I've been working very hard on this song for quite some time, & progress is progress. While it's nice to be able to use an actual mic & audio software for creating the best quality of sound, at the same time I feel that the foundation of each song should be solid enough for me to be pleased, before the bells & whistles. <3
Sunday, March 16, 2014
Bella Mina
|Everything| 03|13|2014
Age 7___
I learned that
writing isn’t something I
only had to do
at school, &
just like hiding the fact that
I could read well,
the use of language to
help cope
could also be concealed, &
thus it began
I didn’t really start talking
until my teens, asserting myself
came in my twenties, too
I entered realizing why it is I
write & the importance
it holds in my life
age 28___
needless to say it has sunk in
that this is it, &
most everything comes after,
all my creations initiate
from writing
since it is my tool for
mapping my understating
of
everything
If I recall correctly the color version of this photo was published
by Rolling Thunder Press
Saturday, March 15, 2014
Not your cognitive crutch
|Grow on your own| 03|15|2014
Certain spans of time in life
we must be left to learn
alone
Thursday, March 13, 2014
Looking back to look forward again
|In thirty or forty years| 03|13|2014
Age 4___
kindergarten,
I took no interest in
the other children
& would
instead carry on
reasonable conversation
w/ the adults
so they called my parents___
& in person they asked
if I had been read to
excessively in the womb, &
the answer was no
the conductor of my class
said in over
30 years of teaching, it
wasn’t something she had seen
in a child___
Age 4___
kindergarten,
I took no interest in
the other children
& would
instead carry on
reasonable conversation
w/ the adults
so they called my parents___
& in person they asked
if I had been read to
excessively in the womb, &
the answer was no
the conductor of my class
said in over
30 years of teaching, it
wasn’t something she had seen
in a child___
Wednesday, March 12, 2014
Monday, March 10, 2014
Unknown poise
Serenity signs overtly sometimes
observing what comes close
or says hello from far away, w/
new approaching always
Sunday, March 9, 2014
From an old sketch book
|Not circulating| 03|09|2014
It’s no matter what they say, it’s
that all I can do to avoid the web is
put blinders on, plug my ears
& push myself away,
because the light
at the other end of the chord
isn’t on___
that all I can do to avoid the web is
put blinders on, plug my ears
& push myself away,
because the light
at the other end of the chord
isn’t on___
Friday, March 7, 2014
Rounding, but more than likely incomplete
Currency: Concentric Flights
Rivers, oceans & even ponds understand the tasks of depth.
What is it these bodies of water see which humanity cannot?
Living in a bubble of distraction, we are unaware of worlds
which exist w/in & w/out.
Stepping outside that bubble is to willing drown one’s self
for awakening. A death after which you go on living, just
in a different shade of light, perhaps.
Death came to me as a pinprick, bursting my bubble. W/ no
release, no mercy, just endless flights of inverted
madness, but outward we flew into the freezing blue of
a love unknown. Having not been fully realized beforehand
the position w/in the crucible between
universe & humanity.
Humanity___ the lucky bastard,
blinded at birth by the dead hands of god itself.
I am shadow only, as I waltz never fully alone or w/in
the company of him. Our eyes met & I witnessed beginning
& end in one. All else is blur of maze;
we follow the shock & scent of cheddar, all for what
is unknown.
Seeing now, I understand there is nothing to be seen.
Besides,
the cold ticking of the ever-present functioning
solely on the energy of time alone. & when
I look into his eyes, I see life swaying in wait as the
pendulum of a long case clock.
Death is beckoning, saying I am no longer woman, nor
am I human.
*
Humanity clutches to the idea of self, like a newborn
suckling at the mother’s nourishing tit. Unaware that
inevitably they will be weaned from the poison of birth
of flesh, only to recognize identity as a temporary
fragment in the growth of self.
Glory comes then w/ self-awareness only to be shot down
like a lame bitch, no longer able to produce a drama
of pups. & then what? ___
Still another bitch & another litter of cognitive growth
unaware of the mandala rugs beneath their feet. One rug
after the next will be pulled, & w/ each yank comes
further awakening; & yes,
death & the long case clock still patiently wait
for the time of the upper house.
In the upper house we see the body as a throbbing
pustule in particle form, waiting to burst.
Rivers, oceans & even ponds understand the tasks of depth.
What is it these bodies of water see which humanity cannot?
Living in a bubble of distraction, we are unaware of worlds
which exist w/in & w/out.
Stepping outside that bubble is to willing drown one’s self
for awakening. A death after which you go on living, just
in a different shade of light, perhaps.
Death came to me as a pinprick, bursting my bubble. W/ no
release, no mercy, just endless flights of inverted
madness, but outward we flew into the freezing blue of
a love unknown. Having not been fully realized beforehand
the position w/in the crucible between
universe & humanity.
Humanity___ the lucky bastard,
blinded at birth by the dead hands of god itself.
I am shadow only, as I waltz never fully alone or w/in
the company of him. Our eyes met & I witnessed beginning
& end in one. All else is blur of maze;
we follow the shock & scent of cheddar, all for what
is unknown.
Seeing now, I understand there is nothing to be seen.
Besides,
the cold ticking of the ever-present functioning
solely on the energy of time alone. & when
I look into his eyes, I see life swaying in wait as the
pendulum of a long case clock.
Death is beckoning, saying I am no longer woman, nor
am I human.
*
Humanity clutches to the idea of self, like a newborn
suckling at the mother’s nourishing tit. Unaware that
inevitably they will be weaned from the poison of birth
of flesh, only to recognize identity as a temporary
fragment in the growth of self.
Glory comes then w/ self-awareness only to be shot down
like a lame bitch, no longer able to produce a drama
of pups. & then what? ___
Still another bitch & another litter of cognitive growth
unaware of the mandala rugs beneath their feet. One rug
after the next will be pulled, & w/ each yank comes
further awakening; & yes,
death & the long case clock still patiently wait
for the time of the upper house.
In the upper house we see the body as a throbbing
pustule in particle form, waiting to burst.
Yet another bubble about to blow, as the mind is
contained w/in the house as
a nerve center from which all emotion & sensory
come forth, exposed in the lower world of lost logic.
Beginning the death of self, leaving only
awareness & pain.
Awareness negates self & mind w/ intent to
fully merge, yet again, w/ the transparent contents of
the upper house.
Once identity has crumbled, the mind is possessed as tool
for the master of self.
One must locate the hidden corridors w/in
the upper house to come to terms w/ self, & w/ master.
*
In my short time, as the pendulum sways, much patience
has been exercised. Having seen more than hell, more
than heaven, & still I sit in wonder of what comes next.
At least there is grasp of the pieces to be put in place,
this takes forward pace for progress though, & I am
only just beginning to build w/in the locks of an unsolved
puzzle, which may take forever, for all I know.
This is it though.
for the master of self.
One must locate the hidden corridors w/in
the upper house to come to terms w/ self, & w/ master.
*
In my short time, as the pendulum sways, much patience
has been exercised. Having seen more than hell, more
than heaven, & still I sit in wonder of what comes next.
At least there is grasp of the pieces to be put in place,
this takes forward pace for progress though, & I am
only just beginning to build w/in the locks of an unsolved
puzzle, which may take forever, for all I know.
This is it though.
(I've got cold feet posting this piece, because it's something I've been working on for several months. Odds are it will be re-worked, since cognitively...I just can't take it any further than this right now.)
Thursday, March 6, 2014
Let the sweat run
|Pins & needles|
life
is shock
therapy,
sleep
is rehab.
*
This lil piece of sugar was written over a year ago, & is included in my manuscript titled: Show Heaven to the Sheep. Pulled her out for show, because it's just a pins & needles kind of day. <3
Camerae obscurae
|Drinking in eternity| 03|06|2014
Before I go
let me see life from all perspectives
& before my essence expires
let me see existence from every
spark of energy,
from the brightest to the most minuscule
of volumes
even the inverted
the minus
even the negative
let me travel inward to the outer most star
where the stop point is oblivion, & it is
only the eye of the I
in a panorama of eternity
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