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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  Thank the challenges
Every last one Let the Love be real Let it be deep Let it be reflected In everything Then let it be Walk towards yourself Arms extended Ready to embrace The life in you Move towards you And be met with Unyielding acceptance Hold onto you Like you've been waiting for you Be good to you Be the standard Of how to love you Did you know freedom has a smell?
Sometimes we must follow its scent And travel to distant lands so vast They dwarf the chasm in our hearts Here at the edge of the Great Rift I found a mirror And was peaced back together In the expanse I began to see clearly Now I realize The break in my being Was the riverbed That once filled Flowed me all the way home to me At the mouth of the Nile Held by the Water People And their many tongues They sang me free Thuolo Thoroughly coursing Through the spirit of me |
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
March 2020
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