prayer is when you talk to god. meditation is when you're listening. playing the piano allows you to do both at the same time. - kelsey grammer

train of thought.

the blue line this afternoon is what seemed
to be food for thought. the voice of a mirror
is exactly what i was destined to feel.
to sing with others. take chances with
a few words... leading to conversation, then
passing. sing with others, rejoicing in our
father and the one true love that keeps us
safe.
alive.
living.
amongst
the
dead.

i will bring the music
to them.
feeling the pull of something
bigger than myself.
let him lead the way
testing and challenging
your positive hope of
his existence.

what is there left to give up?
once you stop and realize
that in order to live, you must
let go of all the _____

it is all just the shell of an
exterior to help guide the way.
spread the love.

blue is the warmest color...

molecules won't stop shaking
i sweat just sitting still because
i can't even begin to grasp my next
move. but i need an adventure.

"i hope i get a chance to travel the
world... but i don't have many plans
i wish i could forever stay this young...

love is the prize. " wake me up

i am at a loss
i am lost
answer my prayers
ask and you shall receive.


let me into the world to hear the songs 
i am destined to sing. 

dance of the divine.

sounds of a fiddle.
silence on an afternoon
porch.
all of my lovers align
to give me such a
thrill.
now i embrace the
recognition that i ever
so gently summon.
stop
hoarding all of your
talents and fire from
within.

relish in all the bright
colors he blesses you
now.

saturday, february 16 2013

press the passion.
         what is your passion?

         [ the bite of rock
                that bloody - roll
                of the dice kinda life. ]trb

IF i'm going out. I go all out.
you take that risk
              & travel
              on the fragile
              limbs of winter trees. 

i say a prayer.

let the angels take me 
away from the real.
what is the truth
i beg your pardon if
i am headed the other 
way. it's just an obsessive
compulsive standard of 
living. either way, i am 
falsely loathing a lavish
sound. it is not yours
to create but perhaps 
curate in a sensible 
obscurity. can't you see?!
this title is yet able 
to receive a crown 
because there wasn't 
enough blood & tears.
hands and knees meet
a breath of fire to open
the addict that lingers.
i'll just make it become
as if it always was, 
always will be. he will
find his way under
your skin. 

"i'm such an existential drag." the well by the toothe

time's up.

second guessing all the substance that used to fuel my desire to stay. this side of the country is still brooding with chaos, some see it as creativity... others, opportunity... but i feel it is a source of limbo. i am seeking those moments of "ah ha" or clicks of "oh yea" but instead i am exhausted from trying so hard and just stay in to nap. i can't even throw up anymore energy, nothing is tucked away... the hidden emotion has been drained. i assumed that i had stored enough, but i feel like i'm all out... again, too soon.

what is this purpose driven life>>>>>
"why are you still here?" she asks
 over and over and over again.

over and over and over and over i ask myself.

so i loop the days
loop the desire
again with the passion
how does he do it so
i can feel myself begin
to cancel him out
i push because i care
i promise, come
back again to me
soon.

28 days.

rehabilitation. the act of restoring something to it's original state. my time at home cures some sort of city sickness that i wasn't quite sure what was even ill...
she seems like a different side of things from this point of view, so calmly relaxing and i think "it is worth living this brightly colored light".

to say i had dreamed it all would be too cliche but rather relevant to the actual situation. it consisted of many days and nights that i had already seen and most likely will see again. each day "i would imagine" was able to be filled with moments of heaven on earth.

in a new thought of heaven being covered on earth if you so choose, your mind is one of the most powerful tools in our current existence. getting the courage, focus and concentration is the secret to creating all of your time alive. he argues this point and tries to put a moral code on my theory... by the light of fire reflected off his face he called me psycho and unsympathetic... but rather he put a few words in my mouth that i hadn't intended in my own thoughts, his own personal spin. maybe i should've elaborated more or mentioned the phenomenon of jesus rising from the dead, but yes, i do believe that you can come back to earth after death, "if you deserve to be here".

i do not favor the word "deserve" in this description of life. i look at it as a whole unit, so one person's life reflects amongst the others... it's just their humanly outer surface is used for display... by example, each human being used in a way to show or teach another how powerful God really is. better to be explained with your own worldly thoughts and etchings... mine in particular is quite the "lunatic" side show.

shaking hands we agree on something... i can't quite remember the exact thread that sparked a hand shake... but he felt the need to seal in a mutual bond. i look into his eyes as if i am staring in awe of outer space... and all it's collections of galaxies... black space... moons and stars. if i could answer all the mysteries of our universe i would, except i'm too busy falling in love with this boy, silly boys.  we aren't really looking for answers anyhow, if we knew the solution, well, wouldn't you just want to die?!

the very last drop of time i spent wrapped in loving arms... ones that spread far and wide, even transcending through the realm of our youthful situation. for better or worse, we can't leave each other alone for much longer, i use all of my strength to just rest my head along the shoulders of a familiar spot, sensing the night's progression of flavors...

funny how just a few hours before i was walking along the atlantic, after just arriving from the mountains... wondering how on earth life was going to place such a surprise; one that gets my blood flowing again, gives me hope of how if you let loose of control... you gain the very reigns you had been fighting all along. waking up in a whirlwind of emotion... visions of him in an orange shirt, on the back of a pickup truck, me in his lap happily kissing him along his neck and cheeks, i giggle as if i were a child... all the things i have loved and will love were shown to me in a vision, one that took place during this recovery. amen.

infrastructure.

the value of a solid foundation
building something that  is worth
a damn.



keep going says that thought in my
head. the small little voice that talks
to you from afar. a voice that beckons
one to keep moving... to wake up each
morning.


another day ago i was able to spend
much needed quality time with a kindred
spirit that keeps me burning for life..
with a series of technology that blinks 
messages in an instance... words appear.

"who's twin flame?"
... a friend from the west side.
"sounds like a badass." --hh

funny how a parallel dark angel could
feel the timing of such an intimate moment
i guess our heart strings really are...
strung out. 

i'm on a tide... you're on a tide..."

in my dreams:

for the flutters of visions i can only recall a certain few scenes, but they required a very detailed encounter with mr. harrison. he had fallen ill and was recovering... we were laying on the old wooden breakfast bench of my childhood home, having a snack. spending much needed quality time together in the midst of all the chaos. he kept trying to tell me something but i couldn't hear him, i made him come closer but both ears were hard of hearing from the show. he kept transforming into someone i couldn't recognize... but his eyes stayed the same. i started to think... no matter how he is reflected, i will forever recognize him. i made us a snack and i fed it to him from my hands, but he had a hard time biting into the bread and cheese gracefully. i can recall trying to gather things and spend more time with him... 

it all vanishes with the sound of an alarm.

#mymainman.

well... he isn't at all mine. he's just... the main attraction.
i don't really understand the attraction anymore, i suppose he is just a mirrored reflection and that would explain my endless ... looks.

i did it on purpose.
i wanted to end it all.
i still do.
all the vanity.
all the style... in the
world couldn't save me
now.

who wants me now?
all the past lovers take
a quick pass to see if
they can once again get in.

susie asks ... "not even the smallest spark?"
none.
i have nothing left to give.
kiss like poison
to my bones. i lack all interest in any engagement.
i am over all it.
what more do you want from me?
i lingered too long
i begin to miss my west coast lack of identity... like moths to the light, i am too much for my own well being.

so he sings his songs and does his dance... claiming "i feel more comfortable... this is fresh".
let's never try this again. i know it's the end... subtle hints to tell me so... look me in the eye next time...
tell me you want me, i'll tell you goodbye.

anyone bored yet?

engaged.

---  busy or occupied.
  --- having formally agreed to marry.

the pressing promise that we are committed to each other. the decision to be called in an eloquent way the word "fiancé" rolls off of your tongue... for years & years we have made this arrangement to a testimony of faith. a testimony of loyalty that is bound by a simple infinite silver band. adorned with just a simple jewel; catching enough to keep the others at bay...
i haven't interest in other souls.. other than these few.
so i tie tiny strings of tinsel around their hearts...
patiently awaiting the moments in time when
our mirrored images become exposed in an exposé of trinity. 

cynicism.

they continue to fall with an exception to the rule... the ones that i would want the most.  i can't stay too far away from his singing songs... i sang a few of my own today.

the afternoon consisted of greenery and champagne, me on a swing and a guitar. somehow all the words and chords fell together in a clash of good and bad. i will forever remember the feeling... but never the detailed words that spilled out into the open air... it had to be released.
"darling... you will never say i do... i do believe i'll still love you so... until you see the seas that cease to rise... another tidal wave you've seized... i do believe you'll never say ... never say i do. darling... will you ever say i do". in a country twang with a subtle beat, i hope it comes out to play again at another date, and time.

so i exercise my soul in song and travel. a morning bike ride to dissect my brain, filling the crevices with good thoughts, vibrant visions and a few epihanies... never ceasing to deliver with the fresh air and trails through the wilderness.

something to be said about a man in polka dots. i was able to capture his brilliant stature in raw form... covered in the tiny dots, buttoned up and tucked in; just how i remember the dark one at first sight so many months ago. two of a kind in a fashion that this "pretty" lady can never resist.

experimental lifestyle.

after a weekend of ghostly appearances and a few stolen moments... on the smallest island in the land, camped out in the woods, with only a candle to light the way. he sleeps behind a red curtain covered in an illness that seeped through his body like venom. i suppose he was poisoned...

taking the time to rest and heal our separate souls, i gave him every melodic touch i had available. my hands began to shake as i released tension along his face... running presssing fingers to systematically  curate blood flow. falling into the parallel dream land only seconds apart, i wonder who he seas... sees.... seize.

"do you really know what you are doing?"
he smirks under his long curly lockets...
"yes".

but honestly isn't it all just trial & error?




one.
two.
three. dreams all at once in the process, offer me the hope and joy i found once before. readings and visions say that in the present moment i stifle with the mother of swords. some might agree that inattentive describes my sense of caring... a fascinatingly threatening life form... "have we met before?"
please do not take offense in my actions, they weren't meant to hurt you. it's just part of the process and you became swept up in the storm. shadows cover the parts i wish to forget to never be able to remember.