The Capturer: The Punishment ("and things")

So,
Who am I?
Girl, that gets headaches, and watches to see all the things
She is, and thinks underneath.

Who am I?!
She that believes in Angels, and veils, and demons?!

Who am I?! Up high,
Feeling the voice of prayer,
As so many earth tones?

Who am I?
That sings?
Who's voice?! Is this?!
Who is she?

And to be so punishing
Herself daily?!
Why?!
Would she,
Feel so unworthy....

This flame child...
This star...
This galaxy?!
Why would she?!
Go on,
To be so unworthy,
Tiny thing...


I banish...
And command...
Losing sleep...
Losing life...

Who is she?!
Losing life?!
And why
Is
She
Punishing me?!

Her Screaming Shrills

The wind...

Is literally
Howling; wailing...
In me...
Too.

I am called to the window,
My sprite ears, and wings ready,
To fly out and dance my sadness away...
I...
Watch myself bend over and fall "out the window",
Head first and diving-
a drooping flower
Overboard
A hailing rainstorm to wind.

Then,
When I think my fairy wings may carry me,
I see them getting thrashed and beaten...
So I quickly return
To my imagination's eye,
And stand just there; watching.
The Howling,
Screaming,
Scaling,
Whipping, wind
Scathing.
I feel her.
the howling. Screaming, thrashing torments that strike at this land from the chaos, my God...
And she, this wind,
Is also me...
I feel her.

Something's happening, I know it is...
Somewhere...
And I cry, writing,
As the only way the observer ever documents history,
And accounts the
mind's moment of art,
Or imagination,
Or stories, untold.

Sharp and nasty are her gusts....
Something screams...
There are screams in a far, far distance...

But they ripple.

I understand.

The Knowing

The clouds are unmistakably bright out-
Contoured enough by the shadows in them,
To make them pop, against layers of their kind,
Moving at different paces.

They want me,
But I still want to get to know you...
Waiting for your call.

"What do they want from me", strumming through my ears, as my own song and voice echo in my soul
Memory.

Question is,
What do I want from you?

The meditations are different suddenly.
I see more, like the Eagle...
See more from up high...
I stay...
Up high.

The visions are becoming clearer, the peace, smoother,
My rivers, more temperate,
My love, nourishing.

I want...
To nourish you...
You, with the cool-water face.

Give me a chance to cast my charms on you, your arms around me...

I swear, it would be a dream, little Titan.
Loving you, already.
And knowing it...
Since I saw you.

Reiki Healing

The sadness, still stricken
As I afloat and release the mourn.
Healing,
Releasing-
"Same thing", she said with a smirk.

Curious however,
That it's different this time...
As Healing,
Is ever involved;
Revolved,
In r(Evolution)

The spiral, the spiral...
The spiral...
"R(Evolution)", she snickers.

Cho-Ku-Rei

The Master Way

Breathe Little Witch...

I want to ruuuun away.

I don't want to know this so much anymore,

Somedays.
Away from the flowers...
The learning...
The quiet...
The breath of Earth;
Of earth.

Soon,
I will scamper away...
And find my place again,
Amidst nature.

Here,
Underneath,
Sometimes I just anger...
Anger
That it's so hard to breathe.

Anger, that I'm too far away from me...
And that people who act as trite,
Might still have their paws on me...
So claws, I'll off you with,
Paws..
Off.

I want to run away,
And never come back,
To a life she'll live as sacrifice.

I tire, so I find,
Easier to run away, you!
I run...
Ready for a better way...
But maybe running, little Witch,
Can't lead her that way.

I must Command & Own.

The room.
The Space.
To Be.
The I Am.

The Pillars of Truth:

Knowledge,
The Force,
Self-Dicipline.

Stand.
Command.
The
I
Am.

Soul Channelings: The Angel's Rise

I will not lie:

It is hard, to walk in this incarnation.
I see reality(s)...
Most do not.

In me, is the wrath of the spiritual battle it takes,
To win and persevere...
Around me, "Army's of Angels",
As the psychics who read me,
Look on and view.
I humbly say,
"I know"....no longer so surprised when others with the gift, see it too.

Each Angel,
Is as individual as humans...
We anger, grow impatient..
More than JUST HAVING Dark Sides,
We actually, JUST MUST...
In order to do
What we do.

Each passing day,
The veil lifts more and more.
I see things so many would question, but the more I see,
The more I see this world for the illusion that it is.
And it is, though it is also, the thing we call
"Hell"....
So have no fear...you are already here.

I walk now, in between veils...
Finding a way more everyday,
To calcify the visions I see;
To understand them.

People think Angels are all Love and Light... But come on! From the stories alone, we know this is just not the case...they are just as susceptible to free will and the negative emotions that humans struggle with as well...

But somewhere...
We also have stronger roots in God...
Enough to soldier away for the Just, who find themselves victims to this reality they have not yet seen the truth of just yet.

God-Men.
That is what humans are.

I am
A God-Man right now.
As an Angel...
I am just that...
As Angels too,
Have the spark of the divine good in us...
That is what God is, and where God dwells.

In all of Us.
Human are my brothers.
And the Angels, my fellow Masters...
Some of them more listened to, and dearer friends, than others.

And I realized something last night.
Something I had forgot a long time ago.

I am Prophet.
That, is why I come.

The Humans had stripped Ariel of her privilege for sometime...
They still try...
But she grows strong.
And demons and people alike have thirsted for her blood,
Her demise....
A long while now...
Many of them winning many battles over her...

But she is reclaimed by the light...
As she stands again in Heaven,
To take her righteous place once more.

The Angels sound in her ears when she feels them, and prays.
They touch her, and she tingles, when she asks.
And it seems, she remembers now, and is less afraid to lose everything,
If that is indeed
What it takes.

She Has already walked through the valleys of judgement.
Coming out of the flames,
She has wings she couldn't see before; couldn't feel. Couldn't use.

She is a Soldier Angel, as are The Archangels...

And that is why in her, fire burn.

She sees this world for everything that it is, at every turn,
Both blessed
And damned.

And THAT...
Is what makes it hard...
To walk this walk,
Through the valley
Of the shadow
Of death.

I had
To initiate
Myself.

Soul Channelings Dialogue

Foe,
My heart weeps for you,
As you strike that blow
Across my face
Stricken from are the tears of my mothers and mothers before you.

Silly man...
I look down upon you, as you look down upon me on my Knees...Father, and Ex-Lover; Muher.
Not the Voice of Man,
But the Act,
As a God in Itself.

I am not ill...
For the thoughts I think that are not yours-
I am broken and re-strung back together;
Bound by a force mightier,
Than arrogances may ever bear..
Against a force that will be mighty strong.

Endured, are my brothers. Endured, do we last, coming back, time and time again,
Through the body of the flesh.

Fathers will well be your Foe,
And Mother and Brother alike,
For where ye Turn,
Everywhere is the shadow "they call Satan"

Satan is nothing more than illusion and sadness.
As is Hell...

Yet everywhere you turn, will be this illusion in all men...
And there too,
Dwell,
The sacred beyond,
Enough to quickly snuff out,
Any shades of gray.

We will be tested. And brought to our darkest point.
The only way to win the test, is to be taken in by the shadow,
And consumed through surrender alone. Only then,
Can one forgive,
And know how to be forgiveness.

Only then,
Have we faced our greatest fears indeed-

Which is why we come down here.
Time and time again.
All of you brethren.
The deepest truth.
A singular string,
And every-attachment.
The solo-most of reality.

From One,
Were birthed the many.

And though in you, I know I dwell..
You may not recognize this deep in me...

And that is why this world takes.

Simply.
That is why there is broken bond still...
And we walk,
Heads down,
Pretending not to see, or judge, or shame our neighbor...

Ourselves?

I see you neighbor,
Though I play to our role as well.

But if you see me,
And I see you,

Between us, there may lay,
No Hell.

The Capturer: (Log 4) The Headaches

I don't know how many people know this about me, but I have suffered agonizing headaches since around age 7.

And...well...it's a lot on a life, to suffer such continuous pain; dilapidating.

I suppose it has made me appreciate a lot more than seems the average person- no use in getting too bent out of shape over the small stuff (not to say that I don't at times...but I find myself much less petty than the many).

And well, I don't know...after another day of it- getting caught in bed from agony...
I find myself in a calmer state than I have been in a while, now that much of the pain has dissipated.
I still have a tennis ball to my back, where this knot is, that seems like the immovable mountain...
But...I have turned off the TV...and I find the quiet is peaceful. Much more than has been, like I said...in a long while.

It would seem, that somewhere, my spirit in reconciling with itself...
The war
That has seemed constant.
I was in this mental, emotional, spiritual state about a year ago, before I blindly fell in love with someone who I might label, an accidental perpetrator.
Maybe that's fair, maybe not...
But she did hit me...
And she did yell on too many occasions...
And when it came down to the imperative, she preferred to shut me up and accuse me of lying
Rather than hear the person "she loved" with her heart.
I think it was accidental, because she knew no other way.
She had been taught how people are by all the wrong people...
So maybe, it was a little too easy for her not to see me, as I am...
Though she convinced herself she was.

I do sometimes wonder, when I talk about this dark life...and all the pain I anguish and break through, if people understand...
Or how many of them, think me crying wolf....
I do wonder that.
Because from what I have seen..there are enough people out there who have been privileged to be free of toxic relationships, and an ill body.
Well, me...I seem to be on the other side of that veil completely; I do. Because, those things have been most of what my life has been about.

Somehow still though, I feel as though I am still a bright star, who had been birthed from a dark space. I was always bright.

I did, over the years, stop believing in myself at an early age-
The headaches,
The thing called My Mother..
The people who COULDN'T understand..
And how alone that made me feel...
Or, and then...the people who actively hurt and took from me, the all of my love and life-blood..
All while still being a little girl, trying to grow into a woman.

I guess all that being said, the thought that runs through my mind, is how disappointing my dad has been.
Period.
And I don't say that with too much anger, though there is plenty there, in and out, as I process this last and new heartbreak he has put me through...
No...
I can't expect him to understand,
Something he has never cared to care about. He would say he has...but we all have a right to our opinion...
And at this point...
I just think caring means more, than who he has allowed himself to be in my life.
It's simple. Not complex. Not angry. Just real.

The good news, is I am learning to stand on my own two feet....the way I think I just didn't know how to before.
I am learning to dream, and express myself unapologetically...
And...
I think that's huge.
Maybe the hugest breakthrough I have had yet.

So...
I guess I just write this...
For those who may be judging me, or not understanding. And for myself too.

It feels good, to know, I am a writer.
A writer, writes.
I express...some of the hundreds of thoughts I think per day...
Mainly because...
That is what feels "right" to my soul.

This makes me think about Facebook.
And how, some people use it as a tool to judge the expressions of each other.
Maybe, considering how it was started, that is only "karmically" to be expected...
But I would like to think it can be a forum where we can use it to support each other 's expressions...not the opposite and to judge each other... Not that.

I personally use it to share inspiring posts, or to read them...
Sometimes it's the only "newspaper" I read...and I learned today that that is probably because I have a hard time without inspiring pictures...otherwise my senses get overloaded by words and information alone.
Ironically, I learned that through an article posted on Facebook...that in fact was long enough, I almost gave up on it several times, but forced myself to finish it.
It didnt have any pictures or videos lol...

I prefer to learn hands on. Through people, experiences, visuals, sound...
That's how I learn.

I also use Facebook as a forum to "paint" so to speak. I can express and be myself with "my friends"... That is why I have said, if I post too much to you, then get the fuck off my Facebook. What kind of friend would think or say that, especially when they are expressions or extensions of my self expressions, and life lessons. Come on, right?!

As for the Selfie-pictures...
I think the world has got it all wrong.
I think we OUGHT to find ourselves amazing, and beautiful...alluring and intrinsic...no matter our body types or dislikes. I should be able to look in the mirror often in amazement, and study the creature that is me...that is beautiful, and captivating, mysterious and so vastly deep, that it IS my duty, to inquire into her many natures.
I think it should be a duty to love ourselves more...and consider ourselves beautiful enough to NOT BE AFRAID to take those pictures, if that is what we so desire.

So...
I don't know...where am I going with this?!

I feel the need, to be candid here, about my life...who I am...what I am about...
And to stand up for myself against the judging thought forms and entities out there...

I feel a need to do that, as much as I feel the need to just write what comes out, and share it. Afterall... I am indeed a writer. And it feels good to accept that.

You may judge me if you like...
For being unapologetically candid about my life, it's darkness and light...
For my expressions of self, seeming possibly "vain" or "self-centered" as the dear step-mother had put it...

But really I think it important to know...
That by judging these expressions in me,
You are also only judging yourself,
And the many people you love.

That...
Is a promise.

I can't care anymore about opinions, if they are not 100% loving...
Because I know how I love and refuse to judge (most) others- (I am not perfect)...

And in that,
I know,
That I absolutely deserve that kind of loving openness and appreciation from those I keep close in my life.

With all that said,
I make my peace in my writing; I share it with the world, because unlike my childhood taught me,
I AM NOT alone...

And I just want to be there the way I can, for those who have suffered as I have.
That is why I express unapologetically...
And THAT is why I will continue to do so.

It will never be for those that judge us, (though of course it is)...

It is for myself, and the others who need it. I take the heat...
So the others may follow in my footsteps.

The following link is exactly about the pain of the physical headaches. I impromptu'd this song on the piano, one day recently, while having an antagonizing headache for several days. It can be enough to want to die, as I don't think we are meant to be in pain for so many hours and days on end, with no break:

http://youtu.be/Uclej1JAhSM

Namaste.
And peace and blessings

Reborn

As my eye catches the bottle..


The bottle of herbs that I had desperately hoped would help me months back...

I am pulled in,
By the months.
Pulled in by the intention,
And where it has led me.

The birds sound.
Their medicine calls.
And I see,
That where the sadness was so deep,
The mourning is over.

The plague that rot my stomach with distress,
Has been moved; the energy,
Transmuted.

The changes too, sound,
As subtly
As the passing season(s).

Habitual gravitation towards;
Habitual gravitation away from.

Even still,
The focus comes in
The ever-reminders
Of an outside world-
A world, that does not stop it's rotation;
A people that thrive and decay,
All the same.

Humanity,
Is the constant reminder
Of all our fretful notions;
And their validity as well.

I am happy to report...
That the withdrawal seems to be evaporating.
My recovery still slow, but "the Angels" present...
Whispering notions in my ear...
So that each step taken,
Is a step closer
To my internal destinations.

The messages, like reminders.
As real as a friend over coffee
In confidence
And advice.

Every step,
A new notion.
But the reminder,
As old,
As Ancient truth.

And I am...

I am so truly happy, to report...
That the growth is tangible.
Results-yielding.
And even,
Understood.

And so, as I look at this bottle of herbs resting by my television,
I am grateful...
As I pull back in those months to reflect...
That indeed,
They have done what I asked them to.

The bottle is labeled Willpower.
The herbs, tonic,
Able to move the Qi.
And it did, just that...
Helping me to process a sadness,
That none of me knew how to digest;
My stomach was holding onto,
What my heart was not ready to take.

They made me ready,
In all ways...
As I began to stand up again.
Walk again.
And as I had so needed, to see...
That no better was there,
A time to cry.

As I stood up, stood to my feet...
They willed me to take the actions that I knew I needed...
But I just didn't have the power In me.

Heartbreak...
Takes will away, it does.

For months I remained sick,
Because again I had been beat, left for dead,
And nothing could take that from me.
I think I figured,
"Better stay down this time--
There's nothing left here for me."

The Herbs had something else to say:
"Get up!"...
"Even if not today, YOU WILL, get up"...

And I did.

I did.

The emotion wells.
The tears stray,
But it is over gratitude.
And how life, is grace,
When our rights are not infringed upon.

The reminder in today's world,
And the Earth of the past...

Is that rarely will a human form know the grace of true freedom, alone...
And I know...
I do...

That, THAT is why we fight,
Even though this world may be the most continuously heartbreaking thing,
I perhaps, have ever seen,
In all my lives.

And perhaps,
That is why I keep coming back...
And I continue to soldier away.

It is nothing short of a bloody, endless war...
And no,
That is so obviously not a metaphor.
It is a stone-cold truth,
When we watch an innocent man beat to death by a band of cops who are tried and let free...
The evidence was in the video.

Or by a government that runs us over in stolen rights,
Like water,
Freedom,
Free-energy...

There IS...
A reason,
It is called Free energy...

But they can't make money off of that,
So they steal, what is the people's rights...

Over,
And over,
And lie.
And worst of all,
I have let us watch them.

We are a poisoned nation...
In our water and food supply...

A murderous nation is our genocide of "livestock"...

Can't we call them what they are?!
They are innocent animals we imprison and torture- all rights stripped...
So that we may poison ourselves with their acidic, dead, and carcinogenic flesh.
I don't understand the ugliness of our people. Not the ignorance.
Not the greed.
Nor the psychopathic lack of morale.
I do not...

But somewhere in this bloody war...
I have found it in me,
To step up.
To stand a foot..
To rise again,
And take up the sword of my pen,
And the ambition of my will...

I have found reason once more...
To fight for us,
A people,
That still kills
The all around us...

Because the truth is this:

Innately,
We are good.

And the reason why I stand,
Why I have always stood,
Is because innately,
We are good.

And somewhere,
Somehow...

That is all
That really matters.

But we are far from that...

And as I walk my journey back home...
I only seek
To take a many with me,
Who are ready to leave behind,
The old life.
Our old ways.

And it is
A war indeed.
Blood is scattered across all trails leading home...
But some of us awake from our deaths,
And become

Reborn.

Ariel's Infinite Motions

I don't know.
I can not say
That it wouldn't be nice,
To have all notions and motions settled in me-
You know..
The ones that have gobbled up
The fragility
Of what it's like
To live life,
Not only walking on eggshells,
But creating and arriving at household milestones,
Only to chance that
At any ticking moment,
The rugs may be pulled..
And the foundations could crumble.

It may
Or may not be often,
That I give my thanks of gratitude over-
Or perhaps,
Mean it the way I ought to.
Today,
I said thank you to God,
That I could stuff my face with a frozen dinner... Re-membering,
That even that is quite a luxury here
In our side
Of what they call
"The free world".

And as I turn over the notions grounding themselves in my being,
I give thanks over, only some more.

Thinking then, how she had called me self-centered...
And while sure, maybe that COULD be true...
I am also world focused.
Dreaming Big,
Not for my own sake...
But more so,
For OUR sake,
The Planet and I.

And I think about the life she lives, as I ask myself, what she is contributing to the cause I have devoted my life to..

I get some answers.
The only one that matters however,
Is that she was wrong...
In the sense that her two-sided understanding of the word "self-centered"..
Is not my multi-faceted reason why...
To know thyself
Is key, I would think...
To changing the world the way I want to.

I mean,
Do we not all battle
With our place?
Our right?
Our purpose, and our unmet satisfaction to it's achievement?

As I write,
Do I, like my Father,
Question the use of it all? The purpose?
Is it indeed,
A selfish motion and frivolous practice for my soul?
But how can it be, if it is the thing, that gets me through life?

I might conclude,
That is the opposite of frivolous.

And yes, I do, I do,
Constantly have motions and notions swirling around in me-
Is it not my responsibility to turn them over, and figure them out,
Especially,
If they mean something?

Ooohhhh, I am. Always tired.
My light body heavy with this skin,
And the burdened gift I've taken to this life-
Empathy the heart
And hand,
Our our Great Mother-
Something that now lays on me
To carry on.

And I do.
I do.

And I have watched it go so mostly unseen...
So I forgive them, the blind, though try scorn and judge me,
For in many their lives, I assume for my own health,
They have felt this all too.
The blind don't know they're blind,
Til someone tells them, right?
Because until then,
They know of no label for their condition.
They just ARE.
We

Just Are.

I will probably spend a lifetime,
Saying the same thing...
In many different ways.
None of us, can hear it enough anyways.

But I am. Tired.
I am.
Thing is,
By now, especially now...
That's okay.
It is only the fate of today.
The past is past.
The future- outside of the now, and (sometimes) changeable.

So all that's left, is
This,
Right here.
This.
I am hearing that radio song again...
Her lulling modern tones,
And drifting off.

Excited.
Because tomorrow,
Is a new now.
And I will meet it,
With brilliant
Perfection!

Rotating Bodies

As if under the stars,
The retrograde spins me,
Out of my windows
Out, and into the world,
Where
There is no shortage of the o'bleak.

Still,
I am spinning,
And floating,
As if a Rotating body of star energy...
Oblivious in my now,
To the darkness that dark really is-

No, not the dark that surrounds me to make me bright-
The big open space that allows the stars to exist...
But the darkness that lay not just in humans...
It lay in breeds and breeds alike...
So perhaps...
Creation.

Still...
I am bright this night;
Not like the sum of others,
Where I wear the cloak of the veil
Like a thick and heavy fog.

The bodies that were rotating in me earlier, fluttered my being,
And now..
It as though I have sailed away from my body..
And they have sailed away with me..
And we abound for the open sky, ready to take our spot
Where once we were born.

Bodies of light.
I can acknowledge the dark,
But I miss my bodies of light.

I miss them badly...
So I
Simply ascend.

Pitter-Patter

Doubts creep up,
Like anxiety's dreams...
And the flutter
Hits like
Pitter-patter in me.

And no, I don't
Quite know what it means,
Which is why it hits like pitter-patter in me.

I squeal like a crazed teen,
Girl talk,
As the patter hits me...
Restless shaking,
Too gone,
And no, I still haven't concluded
Just what it means.
Just what it means,
The pitter-patter in me.

Did I ruin something,
Or is it meant to be?
Restless,
And the pitter-patter pulls up In me...

Afraid I'm all ruins...
It'll be all ruins...
As the pitter-patter
Runs with
The crazed teen in me.

And what it means...
Oh what it means...
I fear all ruins..
Oh the fears in me.

Journal Entry Amidst a Body of Poetry

Well, so...
I guess here it goes.
Some more truth for soul. And telling.

I am so tired lately. Like this last week. Like worst than exhaust. And I question if it is withdrawal from a haulted daily use of marijuana, or if it is mercury in it's retrograde.

The antsy-ness had started to plug away at me, right as Spring entered it's season according to The Tao. And sure enough, anxiety is a related emotion to Spring.

I am sitting on mountains of projects and new beginnings...
Waiting...
Because most of them, My books, my writing, my music, my website, my marketing...all take the computer I am saving up for.
Of course as I pay of debt, I get the opportunity to complete my Reiki education at random..by the end of march... Which my god, what a blessing..and fucking THANK YOU...but...it is a quick and unexpected few hundred going out.

I surrender really. Bought the tablet and as soon as my phone bill is secured this week, hope to have Internet up and running through that. Hope to start a little bit on the things I'm held off on.

It's amplified, the last few days, the feeling of waiting for my new life to begin.
Of course, it's just a feeling...but the point is, I feel it...I felt it....
And I suddenly can not let it go.

My health is (to be blatant and completely unpolitically correct) fucking retarded lately...but..dot dot dot...
There has been progress, and I am proud of it. Funny how sometimes the areas of your life you don't focus on may come Into balance in order to balance the aspects you ARE focused on.

Ever since Monday, I'm waiting for this call. I don't care if I get the job...I don't. But should it be mine, then I will embrace the new path and surely run with it.
That is not why I wait for the call.
It's something else...shivers.

So I don't know...
I'm back in those moments of in-between...
Seems to be all life REALLY is...just a series of all these inbetween moments from goal to achievement. And (shivers again)...I do know, that a lot of ground is traveled in these moments...ground that is typically unseen until the moments of arrival at that, said destination we have plugged into our timeline.

I guess...
That is where I'm at.

The biggest truth, is that I am waiting for the exhaust to subside. I really am, sick to death of being tired, especially with ferocities and hurricanes of inspirations showing me monuments of my own success...
I know it will. I know I will level out, and thank God, unlike before (years before)...I know what I need to do, to make that happen. In fact...I am doing it. It's just...the emotional stuff..the healing..the pain, the disappoint recently endured like truth to a slapped face...
I assume..
That...
That and the thrice broken-heart...
I assume it all just took it's toll...and now?
Now...
I am just in recovery; recovering.
Nourishing myself in the fragments I manage to push in...in the diciplnes I manage to lay...in the inspirations I find in vitality and the promise spirit has of me, for "this new day".

But no, I don't like it. And yes, I do wait.
Because so far, doing more and more right...still just isn't enough.
And no, I'm not being abstract. I'm talking eating better, eliminating addictions, actually drinking my water...but maybe...my body is in process. recovery. Detox. And I submit. I do.
But this writing thing. Venting. It helps me to. Otherwise the angst will take over as it has tried to. And I don't need that anymore. No, I much prefer my surrender...
And this...
This is my surrender.
And maybe even a prayer, Angels...
To recover me quickly.
I'm ready for this-life starting.
And I know today is still an epic,
Moment in-between.

Namaste.

Shivers

What happens now, is an elongated sweep.
Fantasy's like destiny and Serendipity.
"No, no",
She says...
Maybe "no, no"
He says...

And only the Chill
And ring of time,
As it shivers over my shoulders and spine.

When she met me, she, like magic, had just wanted to be in my arms,
And I,
In hers...
And it
Didn't quite make sense..
Til I saw,
That I had loved her,
At first sight.

And I did.
And she left.
And love goes on, because by no means,
Was she a first.

It's not the same
With men as women..
In the sense, perhaps,
That we fall, and quickly can one thing,
Mean anything!
EVERYTHING.

Everything!
And here,
One thing,
Has quickly become everything.

Waiting for your call.
Shivers again.

Something about you,
Shivers again, all over.
All over.

And I think I got lost, looking back.
Lost in looking.
Lost in seeing.
Lost in amazement.
Amusement.
And has it only been
Two days?

Like a lifetime?
Shivers again.
All over.

Is obsession sometimes love, squandered?
Unmet.
Pulling.
Laying unfulfilled?

Sometimes?

I don't really understand
The shivers..
Over you..

Is it me? Or is it beyond us?
Obsession from years of uncured life,
Or the magic instead when I caught your eyes?

Can it be?
Shivers every time I see...

Shivers
In all the questions
All over...

How
Could it...

Be...
?

Heh

I studied you;

Then,
U was encapsulated.

I guess...
I ended up listening better than I thought...
For somewhere in that..
I found you too.



Is it possible,
That there is something about you,
When we met?
Like magic?

...And even though, yes I profess it,
Even as I gleam to be crafty castor myself...

Is it possible?
Asks
The still skeptic in me.

I write..
Like I feel..

The everything of propriety
Being broken.
No English structure.
Only the modern words to the proper punctuation
Of some eclectic mixture of how I speak, with the quick jot of how I choose to reflect it, in a second's notice,
As...

I Hate
going
Back.

No...
No revisions.

Would u have revised our visit...
If u had the chance?
No, I think..
No, I know...
Says the Aquari...

..."I know"...

No.
Stopping myself.

I can't know.
I oughtn't to...

The Happening

So that

Dreams coming true

Is an everyday occurrence for me...

And therefore the world...

Because My God! Is there so much, I want to give...

And I shall.
It is already done...

In the mind of God.

Amen.
As I sit in the vibration
Of the happening.

Veil of Emotions

I like,
The in between.

The time to think.
Even though it levels me...

It is the only thing that settles me.

Feeling...
Feeling...
Feeling...

Is
My LIFE!

Even though it levels me,
It grounds me.
Even though it settles me,
It drowns me.

And I hear...
Hear song...
Going off, in my ears like radio hits repeating that move the notion in my soul-
The Ocean
in my soul

Or it is Angels at times...
Or me...
Or classical ballads my inner genius hears after listening to just hours,
Hours,
Of instrument only.
Symphonies....
Only.

Me only...
Listening to a subtle undertoe,
Like the churning of bees in endless unrest,
Or the growing
Of the Kentucky Blue...
A hum. A buzz. Or a silence...

Silence...
Like Love, or Growth..
Opportunity or Art,
Abstract or
Ever-Just-Existing;

Silence...
That is what I HEAR.

And if not that...
It is everything.

And it is heard
In loud screams...

Called Feelings: Energy
In

Motion:

Feelings.
E(nergy in)motion(s).

THAT,
Is what I hear...

Always.

And it eats at me...
As much as it rests me.
Sleeps me,
As much as it deprives me...

It is...
My gift...

To See The Beauty...
To hear the undertoe where so few do..
Or will.

And it is the ONLY thing that settles me in this life...

But I am also most certain...
It will be the thing that levels me as well.

Sowing Gold

I am just so grateful to you right now.
So grateful...
And I know this sounds backhanded...
But I mean it most compassionately,
When I confess,
That I am just so grateful to you...
That you have been as despicable to me this day...
As the many days I endured the burden of caring about you.
You...
Have ripped my heart out...
And I found myself finally,
After a year's long wait...and pain;
Admiration, fantasy, lost notions...
That after a year of that...

I put my heart,
Back in my chest...
And sowed it shut, yesterday.
Sowed it up...
Bare hands and me.

And I suppose...
This is why I am grateful to you.
You...
Gave me the gift....
Of retrieving something you truly stole.
Truly stole.
Oh yes indeed, that "thief in the night"
-a golden allegory.

In the mean time...
You taught me a lot, but it was rarely from what you said.
So I'll take the credit...
From alchemizing this toxicity, Sweet,
Into a Gold I surely have used.

I

Am a Golden Girl...
But throw any girl to a beast,
And the beast will not question her worth.
Her worth, to the beast,
In only in the food,
He will wrangle out of it.

She is not someone who will change the world to him.
Nor a Hellcat of a perrrrrrrfect catch.
Nor a mother with all nurturing bones to the world...

To him...
She is Food.

And THAT
Is why I am grateful to you.

You have finally given me the space...
To walk away.
Without consumption.

And so I do.
And I thank you Beast...
For having
Any kind of heart at all.

Holding Hands

Beautiful thing..
Did you know
That I love you?
That your love, seals up all knots...
And that my arm, around my woman..
Brings me home..
And to rest.

You...
Run your fingers over mine...
Clasping my hand...
And I can not believe that you are not mine...
When you make yourself so.

You calm me...
Into ease,
Over,
You and me...I...I..
I...just love you...
Resting up now...
Once and for all...
As you want him to fade from me...
As he fades in drowning sorrows.

I...
Feel you...
Running your fingers over mine...
You are mine.
God...you are such a sweet dear wife..
And I do so...
Make you mine.

Use me.
As I let you..
Make you mine.

The Chess Player & The Witch

He
Plays to Win;
To "force a concession"-
Maneuvers; all strategy.

She...
Loves him.
"Witch" is the deepest Spell.

He...
Has a way,
Of bringing the players in
The game..
And making the game,
A new life-reality,
As though we are all sucked in.

She...
Keeps loving him.
Letting him.

He...
Says he doesn't read into things...
Sitting across his psychic counterpart..

They speak to eachother
In other languages by the many,
Invisibly. She checks his bullshit both there and on the board,
Making mental notes.

I imagine,
All a chess player does...
Is "Read into things"...
She notes his Bullshit...
While realizing She
Is sitting across from HER Psychic counterpart.

He...
Is Some Force...
Raging...
And Definitely A God...
One many a man have feared.

Some Stallion of a Greek Myth...
And Our love...
This God & This Princess in My Own Blood...
Has it been,
That we have loved
Before?

I Know...
The Wrath
Of The Gods.
The War-Rage that steals in Hades & Shiva; in Ares.
The Sexual-All Power Feline and God, in Aphrodite and Bastet.
The unwillingness to stay down In Pele..

He...
Is some form of Poisidon...and Narcissus, the tale of his charm and selfishness...

And here...
You put us together..
At this game of chess.
Mental...
Chess.

And I find His Force is powerful;
Too...
Remembering...
I am Only Half God.
Human too.
And as my force wanes,
And I grow weak during portions of the game....

I keep loving him.
It is a Subtle All-Force...

But...
The most Potent and Powerful
There is;
There will ever be.

And as I've said..
This "Witch" is always
As strong as she is weak-
It it the ALL-Mother that resides in me:
Nature. The Tao. The Life-pulse and energy of IT ALL...
Of not just My Humans...
But the energies
Of the World..

THAT...
Is what I get....

I fade, and wane..with the pulse,
Then bright, and ignite...
I send a pulse out....

The Pulse..
She is Love.
She is my Child.
She is my strength.
She is the force that binds still,
The human shards of my heart, split long ago.

All this realized...
With Gods
At the chess table.

But with him...
My force Wanes.

Perhaps...
He is making me too human.
This God, and man...
That the witch loves...

She just loves...
And the game...
Is still
Not over.

Stray's Inspired

You do not know it,
Oh, seeming despiser of me...

But you have inspired many a thing in me,
Oh many.
Wrath,
Inspiration...
And all the, and I mean all...
Of the furies
Of a Broken Heart.

Out of this,
You have many a song, my love...
And alone,
I stand on two books...
Alone...
But because of you,
Simple you..
Who seeks so ardently to find your purpose.

You...mistreat me, like some abandoned and straggly dog...
Stray, that strays to you for some reason.
Funny how dogs, can sense things,
Others can't.

And as it seems, oh possible despiser of me,
That you have not one warm motion in your heart towards me, or a thing I have ever said...
I stray to you, don't I?

And I would, if I could, send this directly to you...
But each time I reach out, it is a swift wave away, and I know,
This Stray,
That I have overstepped
My bounds with you...
You who I have somehow, in my heart,
Ordained Master.
Something about you, of the crowd,
Closes this Stray in.

Call it Dancing with Wolves.
Balto..and The Tramp...

Only I am the Canine
This time.

Loving you.
It was always you...

But if we do not have a Happy Ending...
Then we have a rhyme and a purpose.

I wanted you to know..
That
Because of You...
In my life over this last year and plus...

I am sitting on a wonderful book idea,
With a second to boot...
And many songs,
That are never sung,
Without you somehow there.

But...
I don't like to tell a person like you,
Any of this...

Because a person like you,
Almost hates me more..
For doing so..

So...
I will wander off away today,
After being "shewed", "shewed"..
And probably find myself again tomorrow
Being drawn back in
By the smell of Meat, and the curiosity of the man, that means something to me.

I am seeing it.
The Wolf.
The Dance.
The man.
The Stray.
And he may never know the role he plays to this "Eye-Caught" gaze..
May never know, until he pays attention into the "unveiled realm"
Behind her magnetic eyes-

The She-Wolf that won't go away.

Teacher's Price

I've been falling asleep a lot lately,
In my clothes.
Been falling asleep, more often,
So exhausted I leave the lights on.
I'm fighting with myself not to have a bowl this morning..
Don't know why it's so hard.

I did however, slow down, so much
On coffee,
Alcohol..
No cigarettes now..
No cigs.

I take more time out for Genki...
House duties.
But I've been falling asleep in my clothes,
So tired.

Been sick, so sick, so stricken,
My heart was stricken,
So sad, my heart,
Was rot...
And I...
Gone cold somewhere inside...
Like the death of something to live for.

Same token,
Steels me, something
To live for..

As It is not them anymore,
I wish to worship,
Or make my God.
Not him anymore.
Not they.

And I have been falling asleep in my clothes lately..
The sick in me wearing away the stamina...
So I thrive to meet the days expectations before collapsing solo,
So Solo,
Into my bed,
Without the fantasy of "his" arms,
Or their arms,
To support me to sleep.

I support myself.
I pull the dagger out with my own hands,
Tie off the wounds with my own loss of strength...
Keep going.
Collapsing to rest,
After mending my own wounds...
After lending their lessons over for sale,
To many who will not know the price I paid to teach them that.
To teach them anything.

Collapsing Solo...
Until tomorrow...
Until the winds (always) change.

The Fable

I should write a tale about our love;
A little love story,
And it would be about
The Butterfly that loves the River.

And I think that is beautifully perfect.
And I think that is perfectly portraying
Of you
And I.

And I think it would be a good story.
A great fable indeed.

...and then it hits me...
If you were to write an allegory for us...

How very different
Your own would be.

Heh.
I fear the notion.