Eyes open to watch smoke inhaled
birds patiently expecting the M train
Midnight in the big apple
The worms are scarce
So the birds all gather beneath the roads
On a subway heading to the ledge
Where one by one they commit suicide
Off the edge a dive into hell
The news anchor advises all the humans to stay in;
When birds kill themselves, the heavens start crackling
Anger falls from above in the form of iced water
HAIL
ALL HAIL THE ALMIGHTY BIRD GOD
it is said that when the birds ride a train
Or decide to jump their hellish lives away off the ledge
That’s the true end to the world as we know it.
God is a bird;
A giant light formed omnipotent infinite unconditional Phoenix like bird
As small as a humming bird and as fierce as an eagle
And God; the bird witch is only upset when the birds can no longer fly
When the magic of levitation is threatened
When the feathers no longer carry wind and flow
But are pulled down on sand and gold
The old story that was never told
When once a bird soaring so high in the heavens
A light ray traveled down, and sparkled off a gold rock
The bird dove down inspecting the gold rock with its beek
Upon touching it the birds wings turned into hands and claws to legs
Human bird save your love throw your gold away!

There’s a language unspoken by the tongue

Expressed through its own vibration of unseen frequencies

I hear it;

In my head full of flowers

About you

The life you breathe

The life you drink

The life you feel

Linguistic abrasions embraced by the unknown

A heart beat drumming a lullaby to your sleep

I see my reflection shining in your eyes

Can you see yourself shine in mine?

She hears my semantic prayers as I think to myself

The goddess has risen

A clear wave of redemption

The lost crown; an inaugural kingdom of love

A moon rise breaks apart the dark enveloped sky

I wonder can she feel my language in her bones.

 

 

A feeling dawning like the sun’s warm rays, on a cold winter sunrise

Early morning, open up your eyes, to the light as it pierces the veil of night sky

Anew occurrences in the cyclical rotations of transformative excursions we call days

Fresh pastel paint on a canvas of hearts and desires eliminating the emptiness

Filling a void of white with the colors of the earth and its explorers

An ocean filled with beings beyond the imaginary construct that look out to the universe

A universe made of spheres upon spheres upon spheres moving around their pulsar

Suns burn out to be distant stars in a canvas sky displaying images of the past

Timeless presence in a timed imaginarium set in stone as the ancients did

Ancient civilizations sent below the decks of modern day cities’ pretense

Discovery of inner dragons hiding neath the caves of wisdom

The dragons are waiting for the return of their master

A master lost on a roadless road whose destination is no-where land

Dormant

a feeling of stasis

Has the sun left its planets

To fall out of orbit chaotically

Into the Abyss?

Why cant I handle my emotions correctly?

Am I afraid of what lies within myself?

My own being?

My heart is needy.

It’s clingy.

but with you, I just turn into stone.

I don’t know how to interact with this.

Kiss My face.

Wake up.

The moon wanes

And so does the sea

And me

Energetically

I feel like..

I need to be shook to awaken.

To re-be.

Organize my molecules into aliveness.

Re-Establish my own internal conglomerate.

Clock cycle

Spinning the tricycle

Summer sun radiance

Reflective bodies

Sand & Sea

From the top of our heads

To our legs

A stretch between the

Sky and the earth

Galaxies within her eyes

Tears filled with oceans

a moon glissens of her wonders

Blood dry like wine

Howls for the goddess

The wolves are alive

 

When I get older,

does it get colder?

or is it that my blood takes longer to warm me up?

Oh My Death

such, a mirror

Reflective of the unseen

Definitive of the temporary

Oh the sweet lies

let Death take

what it came here for

I call upon you

to release me,

from the lies of

this Pain body

A catharsis

tremble your worst fears away

Relieve hell from its slaves

 

 

Hey,

Do you believe in the power of miracles?

Would it strike you that we are channels and not humans or characters?

Could you embrace that we are instruments for the divine – soul, or collective – SUPREME consciousness, or black whole, Abysmal VOID; whatever you want to call it, to channel itself through a physical form in order to experience something different and remind itself of its true nature, the one thing that truly is….

love of TRUTH.

God created earth to experience something different, and new. Heaven and Hell are only symbolic concepts to union and separation.

Can you imagine that we’re soon all going to remember that we’re just experiencing separation/hell in as a longing to be and appreciate union/heaven?

Can you imagine that pain and pleasure are just temporary concepts of beingness?

We’re soon ascending and transcending into the light, and beyond.

All that I am saying is imprinted in your DNA memory.

Your subconscious self.

I am You speaking through me.

Remember.

Transmission Transfer.

 

 

Death

What a mirror,

reflective of the unseen

definitive of the temporary

Oh, the lies!

Let death devour

what it arrived here for

I call upon thee

to release me,

my parents, grandparents & my ancestors

my brothers, sisters & my cousins

to release the whole universal paradigm

from this pain body

and its lies of separatism

Catharsis

alter the absolute

tremble your worst fears off

relieve hell from its slaves

 

 

I once had sex with my brain

In the process of our love making

Two things happened;

One, My brain Expanded. My perspectives Widened. My Mind enhanced with orgasms

Two, We had a child. A baby thought. It was so pure and full of potential.

At that time I was about five years old

Just fresh into the world.

No filters

My sense of self so enhanced.

Ever so new to the realms;

Of existence.

My mother was a butterfly caught in the ripples of time

Ever so changing from cocoon to flight to cocoon to flight

And every time  she’d fly,

Something along the continuum of time would flutter

And spirals of causes and effects start to domino down

Like a stampede or an avalanche.

Nonstop free fall to the bottom,

Ever so moving herds to survival

So my Advice to you today

Is to make love to your brain,

Least your mind would gain is some practice.

It’s good for the heart and stamina.

Oh yeah and about the angels of timelessness

or sacred geometric Angles of infinity.

They’re both one of the same.

Spheres upon spheres upon spheres

a center of their own gravity

created towards protection, healing and nurture;

Out of time and space

Imagine a drop of water falling from the sky

Into the ocean, to become whole with its source.

Or another drop evaporating to touch the clouds.

Which came first the ocean or the cloud?

Rain fell down towards the core of the earth,

The center of its gravity.

Droplets flew away from the core of the earth

Changing forms to hover around and enclose our sphere

Oh the atmosphere.

sensually holding our sphere of existence intact

Tender making love to the earths surface

So wholesome, unconditional

But the surface is contaminated with lack of

A sensory of time-crawling illusions

Point is.

Brain sex is fun.

Time flies.

Wake the fuck up.

How can the sun be monogamous?

when it surrounds itself with several planets

Some known, some unknown and some lost according to perception.

How can the sun be the center of its universe?

when its gravity is a force that pulls and holds it in all non-directions.

–

The queen bee,

did she have one lover only?

Does her heart tumble over

to all worker bees uniformly unconditionally?

–

The sun, the moon, the earth and the queen bee.

How can we know where their hearts sing?

–

Like Space, True desire has no constraints,

A power, forceful, like the suns gravity.

A love, meaningful, like the queen bee.

–

do we know when to wake

and how to sleep?

Do we even breathe air?

or Think thoughts?

–

are we just puppets,

to a master puppeteer

that flaunts us; right, left, up and down

spiraling around

–

in a decaying orbit

like the solar system

Love is an orbit,

It has no end, or enter.

No beginning, or Exit.

–

like a moon reflecting of a turbulent lake

an echo of silence

–

Colorless fixture of fear; state of non-attachment.

–

Embers burning.

Ashes remain.

Planets turn.

Bees die, and bees reborn.

Stars go supernova

–

Where were you when it all happened,

ended and

started all over again?