Another old poem, this one written over 4 years ago, still as ever suitable for this time. Isn’t is a wonder? The ageless applications of art…

You don’t have to hide away in there anymore

You’re not blind any longer sweet child –


I know the sun is painfully bright, just feel – crawl outwards

Come out from behind the rock that shields you, adjust your sight


Come, sit next to me in the light, slowly untightening

Feel the warmth, allowing your muscles to loose & limp


As terrifying as it might be, it’s all you’ve ever really wanted

You need it to survive, to grow, & even to die – bliss


*


Come, let us receive life, let us soak it up & recycle the energy

Let us contribute openly, allowing the flow of synergy


Awaken once more with me to witness our grand system

Let us rest here receiving these Divine moments together


I will watch you grow, burst, bloom & unfold

You will see my petals unfurl & my sex exposed


We will celebrate our youth, lust & exploration before yet –

Resting – release, remember, let go – nostalgia for the tainting


*


We will surely grow beyond these selves we now call home

Disengaging places, our ‘ifs’ – back to breaths, dissolving in


Our bones grow weak in supporting, ground to dust again

Our muscles grow weak in their carrying & down we go


Before long we begin to blend, melding together

As each decays we’re less distinguishably me or you


Melting, evaporating, becoming a smaller part of all

Existence reabsorbing our energy – true remembering


          You’re once again close enough to spark, starting –

          Once again, hearts beating in indistinguishable harmony

          Lightning – striking, burning through the blankness


          Ourself – yet again one with Source, the Divine –



& beginning

I will find you – we cannot end

My art mimics my life in strange and beautiful ways. Poetry is the medium through witch I understand the otherwise unimaginable. My philosophy and my poetry are so intertwined, even I cannot find the ends and beginnings – this is one such poem. Written well over a year ago now, it grapples with the inherent, compelling nature of art, in which you feel trapped, fated and overcome by the need to explore, express and exemplify the very ticks of art itself…

Stuck to the back of my throat 

You dangle there, taunting 

I’m used to this now of course

My breaths tripping across you

Coughing and gasping at times

It’s become “no big deal”

Even though it really doesn’t feel right


I keep trying to clear my throat

I want to shake you loose 

I want to spit you out 

Still you cling, sticky and slimy

No matter what I do I can’t get rid of you

You’ve changed the way I sound

Everyone is asking if I’m okay


Plunging fingers down my throat 

I’m going to purge you, I have to to breathe

Still, you lubricate my penetration too much

I gag and gag but find no real relief

It seems you might defeat me

I feel you filling up all my spaces

I fear you will take over and I’ll drown


Am I not already drowning?

On the way to the airport in Madison, I am bidding my Wisconsin adventure adieu – but not before receiving the last few lines I needed to complete this new poem:

Rare glimpses
sky shy peeks
muted beneath
dull grey clouds
o’r barren scapes


Rusted trappings
comfortably home 
amongst the golds
coppers ‘n’ bronzes 
hazy with wet air


Farm houses cast 
complete with silos
randomly checkered 
among still green hills
covered in naked trees


Fall is lingering
yet not yet winter
everything feels dim
muffled beneath snow
not melting faster


When the sun says ‘hey’
everyone takes note
grateful for the oddly
briefest moments of
bright shining splendor 


Wisconsin in November
an atypical adventure
delightfully enchanting
not because it trys to be
wholly uncomplicated


Sprawling country canvas 
sprinkled with hokey charm
this temporarily muted palate 
exaggerating delicate beauty
magnifying the simply peaceful 

my heart is a garden

bursting with blooms

shining emerald brilliance


buds, petals and blossoms 

rejoicing in their cool

milky-pink rose quartz glow


fairies and fae folk 

dancing and singing

round an endless fountain 


love abundant, pouring

from the endless depths 

of my eternal soul

Got DRAGON nails for the showcase!

Still learning to work with them though! So, this is my attempt to sum up a lot:

I’m art-ing:

In process set peice

It’s been lots of fun! So has getting messages about an ongoing creative project that make me smile (more on this to come SOON):

Illustrations by Violetta Nyx

Super grateful, aaand can’t be bothered by subtle plan changes or other shenanigans.

Showcase is Thursday, I’m starting Kundalini teacher training next week and have my White Tantra workshop this Friday.

I’m looking forward to shifting gears and cruising into fall after this end of harvest BANG!

Oh. And I have plans for you my lovies. Yay!