Everywhere that I go, I write. Tonight beneath the full moon, I felt the burn of my fire. It grew from my groin and rose through the sky. Together we will break through this global suppression. Get to the heart of it. And eradicate the suffering, by looking into the source of our depressions.
The surface suffocates. Hi, hello. People of the planet exhausting all their worth to work the dreams of another’s wealth. Creating things to throw away, begging for money in exchange. Our filth builds up in piles along distant beaches; which once were pristine, and remain mostly uninhabited. Except for a dilapidated house occasionally here or there. Where the floors cave out to the sea. Palm trees die without their roots, another chunk of foundation falls back to the earth. We walk upon her land. Her self expression.
We control it as we go. We like things happy. Creating experiences, because this is what happy does. Happy parties till the sun comes up. Happy smiles. Happy waves hello. Happy consumes. Happy goes with the flow. But when is the last time you felt happy, like innocence—in the stream of subconscious play. Like wandering within a forest of redwood trees, feeling tiny and fleeting. The heart floating like a monarch on an ocean breeze.
She gives us our breath, the power of our hearts. She gives us the nourishment to carry ourselves, to witness her wonders. We watch her moon swell and fall like breasts. We watch the stars change locations in her skies. We watch the sun rise and set. We watch her change with every shift of light. Her colors deepening brighter and falling to night. We stair off into space wondering how this can all exist.
It doesn’t seem right that suffering should be within so much magnificence. And yet here we are crying on the ground balled up into a knot, convulsing and shaking, feeling alone, misunderstood, stripped of life, and struggling to breath. We fight each other to insure survival. To horde limited resources, so we will be safe from death.
The pain of our facade. I break like a sledge hammer to glass. My swings coming from a place of grace. Light seeping into space, which once was unknown. Fragile.
Fragile and tender. Shattered. Over it. Looking for glue.
What will it take for us to all get a clue and wake up to the potential of the mind rinsed once a day. In the truth of the cosmos, blanketed in stars. The weight of the rain pulls me into the ground. Where my body sinks into the mud, becoming one with the banana slug. Roots grow from my legs curling through the soil like hair. The tears run from my eyes rinsing my cheeks clear.
For so long I’ve looked outside of myself. Asked you for the approval of me. Afraid of my own transparency, and wondering when my own self would be the cause of my broken heart, rejected and cruel.
But here in the soil, like a corpse. I tell myself the truth. I set the standard and uphold its meaning.
My heart is touched, just where it needs to be. I examine the holes of my American soul—the ways in which I’ve felt torn out, unbelonging, ripped uncomfortable, the ping pong tossed across a pond between two children, ripples across the ceiling, piles of clay—the masterpiece in work; a masterpiece in and of itself.
Flooded in the color of landscape—balling in space. Connected to the stardust within. Romantic and soft with tears running down my cheeks, like streams. Raw with insecurity. Beheaded by capitalism. Drilled with screws of energy. Oil dripping death upon soul. The immigrant within me ostracized. Turning to music, tarot, zodiac—the pain dissolves with any sort of magic.
But the door is nature. The escape of twisted metal is this expression—the truth of what’s evoked. I promise not to make boring art. My subconscious mind had a head start—off to free the world with the perspective of heart. I am reborn from the mud, upon a lotus flower.
One of many. Privileged to breathe. Romantic in nature. Peaceful at center. Divine in love. Aware of the waves, I create through time. I place the hands upon my heart, one on top of the other. The rhythmic flutter deepening and pure, an intense swell of color.
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Originally published in Juste Milieu 4
Lilac Laced Love 