 Dulband
Tulbent Tulipe Tulip All kinds of currency to invest in. The turban of flowers arising gently from the Earth (what does it call itself?) like a jewel adoring a crown, reminding us of the royalty this planet is. Pure poetry for our senses, how it says so much without ever uttering a word. A well-fed bumblebee played courier to this exchange of funds, a low drone of a buzz tone as it floated to and fro making withdrawals and deposits, being fed in the exchange.... Giving and receiving. Pollinating progress. Let’s have a long distance love affair, I’ll be Iris and you be Pistil. We’ll open towards the sun exposing the beauty of our being until we catch the buzz, this is how we’ll make love-giving and receiving, being fed in the exchange.
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Novemeber 25th, 2014
America Full of fear Eats it for breakfast lunch and dinner I see war in their dance and like Frankie Paul I worry tonight America's soul is afflicted conflicted and caught between itself and freedom A crazy place where truth is contraband and i don't understand when the mirror broke when did we stop seeing ourselves? who greets us in the broken shards as we piece ourselves together? who is there to hold your gaze as you muse on murder and weave lies into the truth of you? The biggest middle finger I've ever seen America The biggest goon on the scene America The one who steals hearts and dreams America Watch us melt into you Watch our blood spill into you mix it up stir it round pour sugar on top and drink it down without a sound fall into the ease of oppression and settle for something less than humanity less than the best thing settle into the sediment of black bodies fallen now bedrock in the waters America will one day call its grave we are witnessing the birth and death of an imagined... an evil empire playing... the good ol boys club cloaked under the white hood of... NATION burning crosses on the dry grasses of hope riding bareback through our dreams terrorizing we reminding me once more I am a stolen African Today's hot flavor but watch out! Tomorrow they might be coming for you... I have traveled this land felt her breathing heard her singing and one thing I know for sure we are not in America but we are together in some kind of solid-heir-ity of confusion not recognizing we are one body we are one spirit we are one breath we are one sound I stuck my ear to the Earth and heard the war march of us closing in ourselves the drums spoke and destruction is what they said Harness power
In the name of freedom Like chains broken And noose loosened from neck May my spirit slip Through and shackle And ride With the wind on my face As evidence of ascent A sonic crossfade in time and space to honor the deep wisdom of night giving way to a merciful dawn.
Lines that have been drawn in the name of fear, let them be crossed. Magnify, intensify, and move toward your horizon where the darkest of nights still carries the hope of dawn. Dwell in the true nature of your light, unhinged from color, can you see that feeling? illumination requires the optics of the heart, to see what the eyes alone could only dream. Darkness is light in a form we are still learning to perceive. Trust what is cloaked, generally being, specifically unknown and somehow intimate. Somehow, be intimate. Be close with the darkness, do not leave her lonely. Sit with her. Be still with her. And dance when the time comes. Cross the threshold of sight as stars become visible and nuance returns to your senses. Burn the midnight oil and celebrate the shortening of this wick. Let these new eyes become you revealing a world somewhere between knowing and being. Exist in this shadow giving birth to an impending light. A sliver of change is unfolding you into a new reality. The tipping point is upon us. Describe to the still, the shape and texture, the tone and color that comprise your arrival. Compose your emergence and let there be space, like foreplay for phenomena. Let there be space for inhale and exhale to make love. Let there be space for the sun to come home to us. Trust his return. The revolution and the distance travelled to be still. Incubate and ponder your germination. Curate your rebirth in sleepy prayers for letting go. The upswing can share face with the downturn, but the body knows what it knows and cannot tell a lie. Let it rest and hibernate. Let your cells regenerate and listen to the wisdom they are whispering. Tune your ear to their frequency and allow them to transmit with ease. Let them be calm and clear, accepting their truth as love. Thank this darkness and its leaving. Bear witness and give testimony to its healing.  Her whole being
is a bed of roses Shadow and all Her smell is sweet Her look is crimson Her touch is velvet She is rose water Subtle and soothing Her thorns are true And sharp And piercing Protecting the petals That line her flesh Breathe her in And let her grow Handle her gently Water her often Kiss her to remember Kiss her to forget Land on her Soft as rain drops When she is in need Of caress
 Black n' Jen
Happy to be in the skin I'm in Loving every part of me Wholly me And wholly free Black n' Jen Happy to be in the skin I'm in Wishing you the power of peace To love each part Each grain Each piece Black n' Jen Happy to be in the skin I'm in Loving every part of me Wholly me And Wholly free The Yonification of the space
The Power of the P Primodial and Profound Her presence erected the cosmos... Why do we not build in her image? Be Come Home to her Be Come Whole again Relish in her mystery She has never been yours She has been Everything Like a quilt stitched of air All around and about you Including you In her expanse |
AuthorI am a poet, for better or for worse. It is a way in my being that, ironically has no words. It is a way in my being that finds me when I, and helps me to, forget. I am a poet, for better or for worse. Archives
April 2020
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