Wordliness

To conjure up no image
Thinking only in alphabetics
Crossing the same streets
Hitting the same walls.
Stunting thoughts with the weight of words,
Feeling incomplete from putting understanding into one flawed mechanism.
The hand seeks not to affect the appetite of the eye,
But to stimulate the ear of the mind through the rhythm of words sat atop a page,
Symbols of interpretation and communication
Representing sound resonating inside the mind,
Reverberating down and out through the base of the skull to journey through the body.
Particles dance from head to foot as the transverse momentum of an unseen ocean wave passes through physical form,
Only to escape constitution and synergistically merge with the eternal somethingness of space.
Interpretations of reality are inspired by the emotions imposed upon us from our environment.
Words seek to recreate the rushes we experience when life washes over us like river stones,
Obstructing and obscuring the flow of water.
The internal narrator searches for the symbolic sounds that can reconstitute these affections 
To create a muscle memory able to recall these forms.
Words are energy whether actively expressed through the movement of tongue to teeth to affect the body of the passive participant, 
Or, through absorption by the passive soul affected by the sound of an encrypted script of a once active hand that echoes in the mind.
These sounds are the highest form of reason, the reflective and creative genius of the human mind, 
With all its gaps in comprehension and arrogant misappropriation. 

Water Babies

The drip drip drip of pure intention
As it runs from crown, to nape, to sacrum,
Making space upon its topographical journey from above to below,
Taking with it a toxicity of physical and psychological proportions.
Rid me of the weight of existential excruciation.
Grant me lightness of mind and heart that come with your ritualistic purification.
Seep into my soul as you dance upon my skin,
Rolling hither and thither,
Only to submit to the great pull and fall to earth,
Removing the day's demons down the drain.
I watch the counterclockwise swirling of pooled droplets formed beneath my feet.
Wishing myself to be taken by the whirlpool,
To find myself in perpetual motion never again to exact will, permit impurity, sully my soul,
But to remain infinitely immaculate in the warm hold of the eternal watery abyss.

Feeling "The Way"

My reception to your slow gait increases its speed as the triads spin faster to meet their synthesis in my mind,
Making love to oppositions to bare ideological children.
Yet, I seek to diminish, decrease, detach myself from these mediocre meanderings of the mechanics of motion within our minuscule manifestation.
De-cluttering the absolutes and inventions of an anthropocentric arrogance that asserts itself as truth and embodies myth.
With ease the folly drops from my shoulders, seeps through my pores, and eliminates itself from my body like the shit that it is.
Eyes expand to take in more light, heart lifts to beat in cosmic rhythm, lungs respire to bring life to nerves once benumbed with fear.
The wall of complexities I have built for myself and hid behind are crumbling, giving rise to simplistic structure:
Water, air, nutrition, rest, emotion, consciousness.
I prepare for the fullness of the empty,
Making room for your intermittence and existence within my every cell.
Your movements become clearer the less I focus. 
Acceptance replaces understanding;
Analysis secedes to sensation,
And I begin to live harmony. 

Metaphysical Love

You just didn’t see the connections, 
You didn’t allow yourself the intuitive freedom of thoughts to roll on, 
The fluid nature they display when sewing the tape that biases the corners of hunches together. 
The intellect, my friends, is a beautiful highway. 
One which, if left to unfurl itself in its natural state, 
Will reveal to oneself one self that you never knew you really knew. 
It is true. 
You have known yourself all along, 
But never took the chance to get to take it real slow, 
Brushing yourself aside thinking you’ve sized yourself up enough to know that if you knew you, you wouldn’t want to know you. 
No, you didn’t do it the right way, taking your time to show some respect. 
Letting yourself develop some 
real emotions and fall deeply in love. 
Not an obsessive love, or pitiful love, or destructive love, 
But a healthy kind of love, founded upon trust.  
A trust that can only emerge out of a kind of openness that allows you to walk through your days like running water rushing over stones.  
But you fear this benevolent trust. 
Alas, you settle, instead, into the cold comfort of complacency,  
You stay within the confines of the little reality you have constructed for yourself. 
Fearing abandonment, estrangement, isolation from the self you have committed yourself to, till death do you part. 
What if there was a self within yourself that could be all you hoped you could be?  
The mere fact you can perceive this seemingly distant self indicates an already existent relationship. 
Running from thoughts, closing the eyelids of the mind to a sight you cannot bare to see metaphysically because you believe it can never exist physically. 
Instead of taking the first exit off the highway to avoid the restless anxiety that comes from the freedom of the open road,  
Ride on when you feel yourself connect to the road beneath.  
Trust that connection, for that is the ground from which you grow into yourself. 
Take it slow, feel the pleasures that come from existence and fall in love with your life. 
You’ve always been there,  
You just didn’t see the connections. 

Humanity's Paradox

I have no reason to have the feeling of disappointment that I do, for upon what is it based? However, my increasing displeasure with the conduct of our species has me greatly concerned. I cannot dedicate my life to self interested matters, but I cannot dedicate it to a humanity who's nature seems to be progressively inhumane. 
For what do I strife and struggle? 
Since the years in which I became aware of my emotivity I have been denying the darkness that dwells within me on account of the darkness that is with out me. I can deny this no longer, for my nature is changing. I am on the cusp of a transformation that this system is trying to hold me back from, constantly reinforcing the notion that change does not come from the actions of the honourable, but of the dishonourable. The paradoxical nature of the inhumanity of humanity leaves me confounded, so, atop this fence I sit, trying to discern which field looks greenest. 
It is a question of finding the outlet which allows me transform my darkness into the production of light. But this quest will take a lifetime, something that just does not sit well with the instant-gratification programming that has been superimposed upon my brain. So, what happens during the in-between years? 
I guess I'll just keep dancing.

Severance of Summer

I could not bring myself to talk

Only to sing, not words but notes

Feeling stunted by inertia

Unable to face faces

And engage gazes

I had to hide behind closed doors

Troubled by unprecedented emotivity

Eyes spun in their sockets

Seeking shelter from the sights

And set

For the most inward of reflections

I felt ripped open by the blades of misanthropy

Simultaneously fortified and utterly weak

From experiences heavily laden with meaning

Enigmas, always stifle me

Leave me breathless, hopeless

But these riddles, these frightening mysteries…

Overstimulated and undernourished

Underexposed and overabstracted

The psychotic inducement

Of baring all of yourself at once

Discerning fact from fiction

Truth from confabulation

I needed isolation

The purifier of poisons

I Sucked up into my mind

Detached from the phenomenological world

To wage preposterous wars 

Within this passionate flesh

Musical Majestry at Mexicana Magica

Last night I was witness to the present. Amongst beautiful hearts and souls I was witness to the potential of our lost species. I was given hope as I ever-so gently pulled open the door to my soul and gazed into the overwhelming amount of ferventness there within. 


As I joined some companions in a little conversation with the vibrations of our instruments and voices I found myself abstracted from the default state of auto-pilot I find myself increasingly set to and truly lived. My mind, in the midst of the musical majestry, conjured up primary physical properties and applied them to that very moment:
 - this moment is a unique moment that will never be recreated again
 - bliss is finite within human existence
 - get over your fears and insecurities because this, like any other moment in the time of your life, is the moment to BE


In that moment I was filled with so much joy for merely existing that I cracked a sly smile to life. I felt like I was in on some cosmic inside-joke that I had never understood. Finally, I got it. The best inside-joke this universe has to offer. 


The key to spreading that warmth within the innermost of your existence is you. Not you who seeks to quiet the cacophony of individual voices and champion the status quo, but you who seeks to elevate the dissonance by adding your own voice to the mix. 
Sing your own song and do not ever stop and you will contribute the best thing you can to this world: love, healing and the expansion of consciousness.