Gods Wearing Your Skin

Posted on by meltingneurons
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.

Gods, Giants, Children & Men

Posted on by meltingneurons

Found this unexpectedly in my drafts folder, don’t remember writing it, but then again I don’t remember a lot of things in the ways that others do at least.

I don’t know that the entirety of any story,
will cover what I had wanted to say initially.
I don’t believe that the ideas are wholly there,
sitting more like clumps of clay
waiting for a better artist than I to mold.

I had a moment once where the world laid open its belly to me and told me to come close, listen at a heartbeat that thumped with mysteries beyond anything I had ever dreamed of before. A kiss to the forehead of reality and the absent blast from it’s withdrawal were the price. The air was a hazed crackle of something intangible and without form and face. A feeling left as an impression the walls of truth and the faded glories of all the wishes we had as children. When we were young enough to put our heads together and pass thoughts back and forth, pretending we were telepathic and could read each others minds. Racing the wind across the grass and stumbling because we felt we had grown wings to carry us at the speed of air. We were flying, brazen fuck yous to the established status quo of gravity bound worms that we had been, free to soar, smiles cutting our faces so broadly that they felt like they would never leave. It was a moment and a time when there was nothing impossible and anything you could think was only a moment of focus away from being achieved.

Close down to a belly thick with the furs of nature gone to shit and trees whistling with empty branches. An incoherent ramble across the soft pink that raised out a welcome heat in radiance and peace. Touch the skin with a shovel and pull the axe blade back out so that the blood could go free. Cinders and ash blasting away thoughts and giving the entertainment for the evening and the night as the moons went rising over the hillsides and into the ethereal realms which can be tasted in the heart and break the mind that walks through them.

Safely in the comfort of truth we could sit in the caverns beneath what you saw in the over world. We were realized and all to ourselves. Peaceful gods surrendering to the joy of being lighter than the air, more stable than the mountains outside. Fucking giants as children, children as men, and something gone to dust during the interim.