Awaken the Statue

All credit for the image to Conscious Reminder

Etched ink drawn out in scars so colorful and deep they collapse the night around them,
I stare at them, on my arms, on my chest, on my fingers, on my neck,
this collection of reminders I wear to remind me of experiences,
they are my gateway to recall, to the moments that shaped me, that broke and remolded me.

Memories pour across the neurons, a kaleidoscopic whirl of time merging from past to present,
let me bathe inside the warmth of the smiles, the haloed intensity of each saturated moment,
let me wander determinedly into the shadows of loss, the grief, the regrets, the mistakes,
let me step boldly now across the insanity, the passions, the desires, the absences, and the half forgotten faces.

Take me to the sculpting block where all the roads merge to one, where stone is chipped with experience,
where the cracks define the figure and are the map into my soul, the escape route for my heart.
Let me see the tools we used, from tormented days to breathless ecstasy, from fear to love, from madness to peace,
all the fractured chunks on the floor, finally appreciated for the masterful strokes the universe wielded.

Walk me toward this newfound person, chiseled from the inside and the out to become a reality,
able to see and be seen fully without the cloak of mystery that all raw material has.
It took decades, it took patience, it took heartbreak, it took courage, it took honesty, it took determination,
it took error after error, it took forgiveness, it took deliberation, it took choices, it took exhaustion.

It took every painstaking moment, every particle of hope, and every bout of confusion to get to this moment.
Etched ink drawn out in scars, paint that will never be removed on flesh that yearned so desperately for meaning,
reminders of where it all began, and the journey to where I sit today. Grateful for the path,
mindful of what it cost me and those that entered the studio of my life, open to the light the bathes this world,
in love with existence and the chance to shine bright enough that others may find their way out of the dark.





Gods Wearing Your Skin

All credit to Alex Grey – Artist for his work Bicycle Day.

Burn a fire from where the sparks smolder
let it flourish and ignite the keys you hold.

A world awaits your heated breath,
your liquid sunshine to conquer death.

Embolden your soul in the light you cast,
shine so bright we use it as a guide up the mast.

Fly full figured as the waves crash by,
what doesn’t breaks you is more than to be survived.

This journey started at first inhalation,
it doesn’t end until you join the larger machination.

Draw in that fresh and beautiful air,
fill your spirit until it bursts with love and care.

Have courage in what you are,
a god in people clothing if you dare.

The roads here are infinite and varied,
you walk with them split while finding a life to marry.

You’ll never know your power until you seek it out,
find that fountain of strength to draw it up in a shout.

The world needs your vision and your story,
share it proudly, every second wasted you just tarry.

Dreams fly here,
on the winds of passion,
joy soars here,
in the lakes within your eyes.
Peace roars here,
welcoming you home at last.

We missed you.

Attached to Nothing

All credit for image goes to Rhymesketcher42 @ DeviantArt.

Sweet one with your love so pure,
child stumbling in shadowed fear,
never knowing the right words to speak,
grasping for someone to assure.

You’re seen there in the dark,
space where monsters thrive and hunt.
Nightmares become reality,
you sketch dreams of life with chalk.

No one knows until they know,
though it seems so clear after the fact.
Hard to swallow when nature calls on you to trust,
those larger ones that act yet reap nothing that they sow.

Those distant memories are not such dust,
history and answers with eyes turned in,
never thought I’d see you again,
it was time for the work and at last it was a must.

Let me hold you under glowing stars,
as we watch them dance to the music of infinity,
let me hold you in their friendly glow,
we will sing songs and clean the pain that mars.

You’ve been lost to the ocean of time between,
found at last with a message of hope.
Forgiveness for something you never intended,
it wasn’t your fault, the directors flawed the scene.

Welcome home sweet one with your love so pure,
I’ll wipe your tears and shed my own,
its been forever since you knew where to find a home.
We have a family, and ourselves, this is no lure.


Thank you for keeping alive a spark,
you have it now, a life to live, and a truth to build.
Thank you for finding your way back to me,
lets attach to ourselves,
get ready to do this right and begin from where we start.

Learning

To show a visual representation of the learning process and what it feels like.
Thought cloud, dizzy to be acquiring so much no knowledge at times.

Play often with the boundaries inside you head
before they harden into labyrinthine walls.
Doubt the truth of what you know dear one,
for nothing is ever so simple as it may seem.
When the philosopher writes such common tongue
as “I think therefore I am,” dig deeper into
understanding what is meant. Uncoil the beauty
of knowledge shared and questions expanded.
That uncomfortable pressure inside your brain
is nothing more than the price of admission
to a world of creative and well intended information,
each and every bit, a treasure in its own way.

Pink Stuff

Credit for photo to: blog.writersdomain.net

Damaged in an intrinsic way
which belies the way we think,
I’ve settled now in harmless times
with glasses casting shades of pink.

Never say the world is tough
or filtered with what’s unfair,
in desperate times when life sucks
take the cue and be aware.

So crinkling in memorized skin
and dancing with memories come neigh,
I’ve taken solace in the work being done
strive always to hold my head up high.

Plasticity in that neural net
the one which directs the play,
regrows the joy that fear had stole
and gives birth to come what may.

Ink Speaks & Words Share

All credit for image to Project Interfaith

Pen me a story all pelted with pain–
I’ll send you a memory quite completely insane.
Pen me a story all covered in scars–
I’ll whisper you love underneath the stars.
Pen me a story all wrapped up in joy–
I’ll rip off the paper and play with your emotional toys.
Pen me a story all soaked in ambition–
I’ll congratulate you from a distance and hope for fruition.
Pen me a story all righteously proud–
I’ll admiringly stand and clap just as loud.
Pen me a story devoid of suffering or shame–
I’ll question how long you lived and whether you played the game.
Pen me a story short on words but big on feel–
I’ll embrace your passion that fills me with zeal.

For each story you write and each tale that you tell,
connection is made as we all walk this road of life to the final farewell.
Strangers no more as the wording unfolds,
your experiences are more valuable then ever would be gold.
Friend since you vulnerably shared to cross the divide,
forever you’ll find my acceptance as I stand by your side.
We all start alone until our experiences happen,
no one need stand lonely feelings that they’re trapped in.
A world without others who have felt all the same–
if you’re missing companionship then drop any shame.
Drop any pretense or false facing thoughts–
your loveable for you, now and until time itself stops.

Turning Inward

Credit for the photo above to the Brahm Centre

Catatonic repose
affect flat and bare
thoughts locked in mid-battle
weaving chaos enough to wear.
Halcyon days
under visions of winter sun so bright,
sitting with view turned in
reflecting fiercely in that light.
Mindfulness resides
focuses on action, body, and soul,
a smile branches out
as new knowledge chases out the cold.

Wild Dancer

Explicitly free,

in empty shadows she dances

underneath clouds,

across ocean swathes of green

tickled with flashing bulbs of brightness,

puffs of color growing

amid the endless blades.

She will not be kept

or locked inside,

always bursting forth

enchanted by the world

the sensation of movement,

the passion of feeling deeply,

the exhilaration of newness,

as it sweeps away her pain

leaving her breathing heavy.

I too,

once touched the underbelly of clouds,

skipping with my feet,

unabashedly giddy.

I ache again for those days

knowing,

nostalgia is a wonderful weapon.

Night Tan Under the Supermoon

Layer a white cold blaze

in circular pool

hung

where the reflection of day

carries to the infinite

teeming void.

Shadowscape of eternity

ever beyond 

incandescent blue skies,

milky clouds,

beyond sun-blinded sight,

always sitting.

Wonderland of possibilities

bending even science

to use imagination.

Endlessly faltering

towards an unknowable end.

The Gods baubles

spin deftly

through the deepest darks

of cavernous black gone noir.

Never bound,

never stuck,

not clasped tight inside

of opulent bondage 

as we marching mortals

on our madhouse Earth.

Into that idea –

that dizzy concept which

forged new words

to try and constrain

something so terribly VAST –

where all is birthed

through cataclysm,

fiery destruction,

demises so profound

dust from their corpses span eons,

rages as a furnace

crafts awakening

in billions of new forms.

Peace is found

within mirrored 

microcosm eyes

of any

who would choose to pray,

take silent reverie

in joyful awe,

of beauty without boundaries,

and their own

immeasurable nothingness.

Shadow Boogie, Starlight Feast

Baby, give me gasping galaxies of infernal heat to warm the vacuum where once I lay. Cut dusted fragments of the stars from my body and my mind–it think find its soul which till remembers the last whisper and caress out there where we made our nests in nebulae, powdered our faces in fractal fission and wept at the insane beauty that stretched to the unknowable ends. Give me whetstone tones of tenderness to grind on down these rough edges, I know you will. Fine tune my harmony to match the orchestra, I know you will. Love me gentle and love me brutal, I’ll do same. But, on the nights I go to bathe in the shimmer and glimmer of dead Giants birthing monstrous infinities while listening to shadows hum their lonesome shaded songs….on those nights, I am forever free.