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Love As Deep Listening

2/5/2020

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Picture
Breathe, in though the nose and out through the mouth.

​Love As Deep-Listening. Have you ever smelled love? Have you ever seen love? Have you ever heard love? Have you ever felt love? Did you know, it’s all there is? If this is wrong, I don’t want to be right

Can you hear it? The whispers and hushed hollers for your well-being...The way the body speaks, the way the trees rattle their leaves to send you messages of home. The ear is but one mechanism, the spirit listens, hears and speaks and if need be, vibrates truth into the tissue of your being. Showing yourself genuine kindness can make you shake. Let the insecurities float to the top and wade in these waters. Sit with them, bathe and cleanse with them. Love them too, all these insecurities, unconcerned with judgment-your  own or others. The truth of my less-thans rang out loudly to the right of me, reminding me of the intimacy I’ve longed have with myself. Naked and soothing wounds seen and unseen in the scent of lavender, chamomile and willow leaves, I pondered an inability to tell the truth to the self even in this most exposed of states. Perfection was a haint that caused immobility in my deepest reaches. This time I breathe in only a half a breath, before this contact this crash of particles and beings, this grief of what it used to be wiped the slate of me clean. The listening done, by an ear we cannot know, and know so well all at once. This spirit, this flower, this ray of sunshine, these streaks of rain drops along the window pane  that rival any Picasso, these moments and words and feelings and sights and visions of this agreement to breath and be together, these moments tease us into remembering who we are. Are you listening? To who you are and how it changes, all these changes. Can you see it all as mirror? The trees, the mist and mountain, did you know this is you too? The distance between time and you...what is this moment but a chance to tell the truth? To live inside of the truth and the wondrous nature of the heart. Here, we meet ourselves in the clouds and the dirt, in the petals and the sighs, in the words not said and the landscape of periphery, thoughts and beings at the edge of our eyes that move us along our path. What lies along our road has been left to a knowing beyond the mind, beyond the intellect. It is a weaving, a tapestry coming together in colors so brilliant and patterns so long sometimes we may get lost in the run. Before the thread changes, and as the pattern takes form I ask you to marvel. To rest in quiet awe of the weavings of you. I ask you to listen deeply to the wisdom of love, to this voice with no body, this knowing with no end, to the conversation overheard, and the lyrics to that song that seemed to be just for you.  Listen as your breath becomes the cup you press to ether to conduct these sounds, witness the illusion of aloneness as you become one with existence. 
​
​Breathe, in though the nose and out through the mouth.
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Threshold

12/24/2019

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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. 

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Rose-Bodied

11/5/2019

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Picture
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

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Remember The Wind

8/7/2019

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lIn those spaces
Where peace
Feels no more than a moment
Collapsed in time
Remember the wind on your skin
And the sway in the trees
Think of the way 
The sun hit the garden
Bending all things towards its light
Remember that wind
And be with it
As it talks to you
And unearths
Those fossils in your mind
Those thoughts in your bones
Allow yourself to marvel
At the way the sun and wind play
Many visitors in this walkabout of the soul
Learn to let them all go
From the lovers
To the bees
The dirt
And its keeper
Let  it all go
https://soundcloud.com/enoore/remember-the-wind
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Black n' Jen

7/6/2019

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Picture
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
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365 (Mother's Day)

5/12/2019

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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


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The Standard

5/2/2019

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Picture
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

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A Rift In Time

3/10/2019

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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

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For Womxn Who Move

2/10/2019

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Picture
Didn't see no babies
Didn't see no big house
Didn't see no love
Runnin out

The men who move
The womxn who stay still
What can I do
But get on with my groove?

Won't find no ring
Nowhere in my house
Won't catch me up
Walkin down no aisle

The men who move
The women who stay still
What can I do
But get on with my groove?

They always called me
That little tomboy
Wearin baggy jeans
Movin myself

For womxn who move
The men who try 
To make us stay still
For womxn who move
It's a lonely road

What can I do
But get on with my groove?

​

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Star Porthole

12/23/2018

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Picture
Intergalactic Star Porthole
Or shall I call you by your government name?
Uterus
I am listening
I have stopped wandering
​And come home to me
Orange martyr
I am grateful for your sacrifice
Unravelling in her image
Power be what is to the left in me
Compassion be what grows
In the flesh of me 
Reproduce with me
All the stars of the galaxy
​
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    Author

    I 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.

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