Dislocated

Frozen…but not the kind from being too cold. It’s the type that comes from a new intimacy with Truth.

Truth came to my full attention this evening.

Truth came to replace its previous stand-in: distant, shallow stories.

Truth revealed itself through expressed bravery and exposure.

It’s easy to be nonchalantly composed when theory runs my life.

“Those problems are ‘over there…’ Is this even really happening? Is it that big of a deal?”

But then I find out and realize that YES. It is. These problems are simmering in people’s lives who I see weekly, more than my own family and dogs. And now, it’s boiled over for me to see…for me to feel.

When people share their vulnerability it allows us to step up and meet them—to fill that once-distant space between us.

There becomes a new layer of intimacy to explore: humanity.

For now, I’m still processing, digesting, and frozen.

…but what’s gonna happen when I melt?

You ask how I’m doing…

But do you really care?

When I answer truthfully I scare you off.
Is it my honestly?
My dreams?
My pathetic excitement and curiosity in my own life?

You shut me down and criticize me for answering the way I did.
(Whatever that was)
So I am conditioned to not open up.
I close myself off to you.

This pattern cycles around in circles like the seasons.

I begin to think
“What if you are right?”
and I really have palty aspirations
that don’t offer anything to anyone,
that I’m not valuable,
that me being on Earth and me not existing wouldn’t make a difference to you, or anyone.

If anything, it would be less of a hassle if there was less of me..

So why do you ask how I’m doing?


Sorry for the depressing ass shit lately. It’s a phase I’m going through, hopefully. Luckily, I’m remembering how therapeutic writing poetry is for me…you reading this probably understand

Lazy days

lazy day laying in bed

Phone off, forgotten somewhere.
Loose, flowing, brushed hair.
Zero fucks given & I don’t care.
Off to the inner world I dare.

No meeting, no projects,
only reading for fun.
Clean here, clean there,
hair now goes up in a high bun.

No obligations, no people,
I’m left with myself.
Usually, this is a blast,
but sometimes I wonder about killing oneself.

I’d rather use my off days for this:
processing emotional, confusing bullshit,
then waste what little reserves I have,
and let my “social life” take a hit.

Lazy days are the best days of all;
I get to watch aspects of me crumble and fall.
This may seem depressing and small,
but out come little gems, like this here scrawl.

Four Scores and (Eighty-) seven Whores Ago…

Cycling through all the memories I hold,
attempting to craft up a new ending,
I realize I have chapters left untold
to the stinging king–character: a fling.

Ooo, baby! Did you just hear that one ring?
Come on down off your bed-swaying high horse.
Hear my words, feel their essence, let it sting.
Of course, you digress to endorse your “source.”

And no remorse, for my truth you ignore,
or for my emotions you influence.
What does that make me? Lax foyer decor?
Unify like a stagnant confluence.

Once so innocent, you left me in ruins…
a thriving civilization no more.
Merciless and widespread executions,
right before you gently walk out the door

When do I accept something literally
instead of taking it figuratively?

And when will the delusion of you
fade back to the Blue?

Duality Splits Unity

Duality splits unity,
her with he, as he with her.
And after a period of scrutiny
I found that they always were.

Across the ether,
beyond Earth,
I discovered the teacher
through my birth.

Lessons taught come from synchronization.
Lessons learned arise from shatters.
The seed germinates through visualization,
to soon ascend with the masters.

The Process (Modus Operandi)

I am a hot mess,
…the kind that’s still evolving.
The type of chaos in the cosmos
reality is involving.

Subjective objectivity
and numbed to the core,
this salmagundi clarifies
then I seek ‘n explore.

Resolutions surface
while doubts disappear.
Who knew I’d be the one…
the truth that is the seer.

Stay Golden

Transitional Blue,

Moonstruck much?
Totally tempting to touch.

Now, riddle me this:
Is it the quantity of friends that count?
Or the quality of friends that matter?

Lose two, gain one.
Look deeper than the superficial stratum.
What is being lost?
What is being gained?

Ahhh, there you go…
Now do you see?
It’s a lot easier to flow,
When you just let things be.

Last night you fantasized of Indigo Dreams.
In the randomness of the projected schemes
It might seem, a little extreme, a repetitive theme.
Look past that ignorant beam,
Keep acknowledging the gleam;
Your growing esteem,
Into unity supreme.

Stay Golden,
Xo

The “Sound”

The wind is my baseline.
Every sound appears from the gentle carol of the breeze. Coming from a perspective where silence is literally impossible, the sound of the wind around me responses to all pleas for mental stillness and peace. It isn’t necessarily a language to learn, but one to listen to. What is accomplished with receptivity? This same opportunity lacks with artifacts and things and stuff. Sitting with nature is simple. My senses are given space to interpret smoothly and calmly, naturally.

Baseline

The sound of a building, a room, a wall
screams an eerie silence.
Still and not still,
confused in existence.

The sound of the breeze, a bird, the trees
creates symphonies from peace.
A natural flow takes over
pushing things back into place when with nature

Simplicity is acknowledged firsthand
when it is seen with a simple mindset.

Nature doesn’t speak English,
But English is definitely not the only language to communicate in.

Sorrowful Ignominy 

Young lad, are you ready to go there?
To come here?

You are Venus in the night sky–
a sparkling jewel.
Yes, quite the sight to see!
But Sir,
I am the Moon.

I dance circles. I grow. I shrink.
All observe this, but I…
For I am a cold, cold rock
on the outskirts of Earth.
Violently banished in an earlier chapter.

My tears get lost into the solar system.
Your dazzling show mesmerizes,
especially me.

Still, some courageous souls have visited me.
Explored me.
Inhabited me?

You are lifeless, the closer we get.
Elusive in form…
Unfit for life, damnit!

And here I am:
frigid, hard, and lonely
…yet possibly worthwhile.

A Reflection

Nye and Ham sure know how to argue proud.
The points they made could barely cross the bridge;
This duality made them look like clowns.
However, I see how to link this ridge.

Science says that life evolves more complexly
But…Second law says things go towards disorderly.
Nye only sees the physical effects
Their views are limited; oh so borderly!

Once again, science is narrow-minded.
They only look at the direct manifested.
Keep this up, and you’ll be forever blinded!
There’s more to the world than can just be tested.

The physical realm does indeed fall apart.
We are all made of the same elements.
Why can a tree grow, but a rock doesn’t take part?
Let me tell you, these bodies were just lent!

The true increase in this complexity,
Is not life as science sees it to be.
Not opening your mind, also leads to perplexity.
I will inform you how we can all break free!

“Complexity” is from an outside force.
This is quite simple; it is called prana.
It’s beyond the physical realm; it is true Source.
It’s the hidden dimension behind flora and fauna.

What happens RIGHT after someone dies?
Why…their body goes right back to the skies.
Are you aware of what this implies?
Imagine what else we can see when we all open our eyes.

You see, Nye and Ham are both right and both wrong.
Physicality itself goes towards destruction,
But prana is actually what guides “life” up, up along.
Prana is the background to what gives life its production.

You can grasp this easily when you look around,
A rock is a rock, just sitting on the ground.
Rocks and trees are made of the same materials,
But the life force behind the growth of a tree is a separate ideal.

Totality, Creativity, Destruction and Regeneration.
This is the bridge, the circle that frees all this frustration!