Broken Glass – Four

Broken Glass

Broken Glass… the rippling, the crippling first waves of the day, break the single reflection though not the whole.  Yet, still once it starts, the vibration won’t stop.

This is how it began way when the ocean of consciousness was but a void.

The chaos, its beauty, gave us Life.

Broken, glassy, dangerous, but beautiful.

 

Broken Glass – No. 3

Broken glass.

Broken glass, song, verse, poem, whatevs number three.  Here from beyond to “emancipate yourself from mental slavery.”

Slow rhythmic, rhythm with rhymes so magically… woven.  Woven through the tapestry of time our shared consciousness trav-els.

Slice.  Sliced a bit of my flesh open so the blood pours through these keys, making music with words when I type or the pen dances passionately across the canvas…

Of Paper or screen.  It doesn’t matter to me for even if I was blind, I’d paint, so long as the word, that Love, was with me.

Broken Glass – Pt. 2

Broken glass reflects the light like molasses, beautiful and cutting, sort of like Onassis, Jackie…

Kennedy.

That tragic figurine.  So calm, so just, so just damn serene. A life lived that should have been normal, yet in its place was something else, ripped away so tragically.

As she fell from the shelf, glassy pieces of her soul lying there reflecting the light symmetrically…

On the floor. Broken glass, there, right there (!) on the floor, lies a life, that’s no more.

Broken Glass

Broken glass, the shards lie lifeless, filled with sharp light, ready to cut… the skin of any who dare to pass better be ready to fight.

Broken dreams, its fragments drift without life, both clear at night and dull in the day, dreams, were they mine or are they yours, it does not matter for these dreams are lost, lost without a fight.

A cry, its tears a collective utter, so mournful, lost is all the joy, the gypsy’s cards are turning, fear is no more, no more willingness to put up its fight.

Broken glass, broken dreams, a cry all mingle tonight, as I stare down at the brown residue on the floor of the one drink we lost on this very night.

Episode Ill

I’m ill in the spirit.

Shhh, my Heart beat, can you even hear it? At times I feel as though I’ve lost my muse. So much negative vibes, every time I hear the news, it’s permeated the environment all around, that beat beat’s so long gone, I fear it, just maybe, my spirit’s 6 ft. deep beneath the ground.

Oh to be the Fool once more, instead of just another one of Life’s fucking clowns…

I never liked clowns you know? Their archetype and energy never quite suited me. Then again, my friends,

I have never liked feeling the fool all that much either, “Don’t worry Dear, not in your Life…” My Teacher says trying to reassure that the mob won’t shoot me in this existence neither.

I’m ill in the spirit!

It lies within the shared consciousness. Gaze into the mirrors surrounding, see my own beauty and inequity from within so it shines there, like a blazing Dark Light, Here & Now right beside me.

“I’m a lunatic.” The haunted Artist shared with me the other day.  “I’ve a host of weirdos…” His crew ready to jump and share the message in their own maniacal way.

I’m ill in the spirit?

Nah, perhaps I’ve just not found my tribe.

Oh well.  Life’s swell no matter what, so long we stay a-LIVE.

A Mass of Stars

Good evening Sistren & Brethren!

Let us gather, gather all around now, y’all here!

Here we have above and all around us the vast beauty of the stars, the Universe, our MOTHER!, in all her naked glory! Born are we, yes, each and every one of us from the womb of the Darkness yet made of the very SAME! substance… that… makes… up…

The Stars… and shared Eternal Light.

Let us bow our heads and thank the Heavens, God, if She or He exists beyond a shared segment of consciousness, and thank our MOTHER!, Mother Nature, as she is adorned with the tapestry of time, bejeweled by galaxies upon galaxies of the unknown as they hang upon her breast.

Thank you Majestic MOTHER!, Dear Sweet Nature.  We thank you for giving us… this…

Life.

A Mast of Palm Trees

We could watch a palm tree sway as though its birth was a thousand years times a thousands years ago coupled with Universal cheers from the stars my Dears…

I walk, a single step, followed by another and its brother.  My Heart weighs heavy most days, with some light mixed in between.

Longing, longing for flight, to be like that palm tree, dancing with the wind, beneath the Sun, and in the Moon Light.

We could watch a palm tree sway and learn from such a sight, for to see through Nature’s Eyes is to know what they meany by en-Light-en-ment.

No! That’s not what I meant!

No! I’m feeling spent!

No! I can hear the moon whispering.  I can hear the sun, as its glistening.  Both reflect their Voice so the Palm Tree sways.

Both are filled with joy for living each and every day.

No!  That’s true!  How could it be?

Well, there my friends sleeps the answer, unequivocally…

Laughter. Laughter. Laughter all around.  Listen to the stream as consciousness trickles down. Down the brook of experience.  Over the path we tread.  I am feeling sadness.  For those who know not joy, only dread until the day they are dead…

The leaves still dance, dance and dance, dance, dance, daaaaaaaa-nce.  Ha! It’s time, this poem is far too long.  The leaves, are dancing, whether you can hear my song!  Time to be free, cast off, and now let’s go.  No time for too much sadness, it’s heaviness does not fit those Soul.

I can see the Palm Tree.  I see her though Nature’s eye.  I am we eternally so why not give it a try?  Let us depart, take my hand, you’ll see!

And dance beneath the Sun, into the Moon Light…

Shall we set sail?