Go with the flow, and burn

underwater white dress

Sometimes I don’t want to be like water and flow to slip through hands, I think I want to be held in nurturing hands. I wonder if a fish in a small pond has a wider view of the sky than a fish in a big pond that sees so little of what is outside of itself. Not sure which is better, to be like water or to be open as wide as the sky. This may be hard to understand…but on a journey to remove ego and let whatever come and go like the water flows and to keep a heart as wide open to the winds of the sky it gets hard to be pulled into the current of the streams to begin to want and have needs to be reminded to reflect and realize life is not always what it seems. To remove oneself into contemplation and isolation one sees from wider points of view life around so magnified until one steps into those realms to become lost in wanting to belong it’s like being caught up in the winds. A longing long forgone beckons at the door of the heart where inside the heart begins to beat so hard it’s bursting at its seems to come outside it’s resting place. To remain calm amidst this storm is almost drenching for to stay hidden in the deep one never dares to feel the rain. Like water I slip away…back into the abyss of my beating heart…into the safety of the boat where no water can penetrate to navigate through waters yet uncharted….the pieces of my fragmented life….like rays of sun that illuminate a heart inside…it is my life raft within to seek the divine mind and that path to tread in seeking salvation through and beyond time to freely give all of me away in surrender to mortal constraints in glimpses of the immortality of love for in no hands it can be held but only felt. The pain of letting go of the ego is to seek to give hopes away to one day become the vessel where light shines so bright the vessel is no longer needed. The choice to hold the light or be the light is like choices to love or die. I’m not sure these notions are nothing but fleeting fantasies where in the end the denials to want end up leaving one imperiled in emptiness of nothingness in which I’m not sure I want to return to. Is this an illusion to fall into nothingness to be liberated and held by the imagining the heart of the divine holds me instead…when so much it is a divine love in mortal hands I am tempted to want so bad like a fire that rages in the heart.


The Path

The path

She puts her perfume on

hoping you like her scent

She plans what she wears

hoping you’ll take notice

She wants nothing more

than to be drawn close

within the scent of man

her heart longs to be

she aims her heart to heal

in the merging of her hands

upon the touch of your flesh

she dreams of kissing

the nape of your neck

for she knows you

have seen hardships

and nothing more

does she wish for you to forget

to find respite in the taste of her lips

to find solace in the home of the heart

but she knows you are jaded

torn and abused

been out wondering in the cold

amidst the folly of dreams laid to waste

for she too has danced in those forests

entrenched in their quagmires

she freed herself

and to all she gives her heart

she knows they may not see

blinded behind the veil of their misery

yet time and time again

her heart on her sleeve she gives

for she learned long ago

that is the way

on the path



Brother, Brother

paper doll angels

Brother, brother

No I will not come to your house

to participate in the charades of niceties

where behind them lie the pain of truths

you cannot see…

For brother, brother, it is my mother you should thank

she gave to our father the freedom to feed and care for you, your mother, and my sister

void of me

Years, went by I lived after the age of six without knowing my father

only to realize upon his death that was the year he married your mother

I then knew why I lived without

It still did not lessen the effect

after he and I connected

he told the father of my children

he did not know why

for all those years he did not care…

the yearning in my heart for so long to love a father I did not know…but needed

the gift my mother gave away

his obligation to me

given to care for your mother with twins in her womb

Is it no wonder after I brought to him

his first grandchild

he began to care…

and your mother came in to the rescue to give to them

what she took from me…

it is no one’s fault

not yours, nor mine

we were children at the mercy of our parents

I blame not anyone

what is, is what is

but the truth is there too…

I can look at it objectively can you…

For all those years the gifts I sent

and now in recent times of need

when I called upon you

you could not return my call…

Oh brother, brother

you did not invite me…

but your mother did…

but I cannot go there and dance among

the heathen who think they are full of church, and God and pomp and circumstance…

when the truth is, you would do more for another

than you would do for me…

Maybe it has been a bitter pill for me to swallow

when our father died…

and your mother did not

show the doctor’s what I found

and your wife had a fit to change his residence of care…

when the truth is, it could have been

a cure…

whether true or not

this is true…

when I cried out

she came and brought me to your shelter

told my sister she was my boss…

paper dolls on the bed

she probably feared

she’d have to do more than care on the surface of matters

and what would happen to her world…


Then once upon a time

my sister I took with me

and upon a return

a secret was told to your mother

she kept it for so long, long after more damage was done…

for she said to me, your father would have killed him

if it were true

but instead she let me live with him

and the grandchildren she seems to care about

was it nothing but a lie

yet she goes on to meddle

into my blood affairs….

and thus….I think it is true

those closest to us, have the most capacity to hurt us…

often unaware

but to those living in survival mode

without consciousness of true love

its just a mask they think they wear

when behind it all

it was a glass house

….so break the facade…now I do wide open…like a gauntlet thrown to the ground crashes…the past is the past…

I harbor no ill will

just awareness now

and I cannot go where

demons dress up

and pretend to care…

I suppose we have all been enchanted a time or too in self folly

so this is no self righteous indignation…

it is a choice

to not endorse

the games humans like to play unaware…

the older I get the less I need to be reminded of such travesties


Religion like a paper doll, if there is no love there, there is nothing to be found there

Nothing to be yoked by, unequally I am not found there, nor will I be…

There was a time, I would stand in such crowds, and fight by silence to be love by example and actions, but those days are fading as I now see, all they saw was a paper doll and could never see the heart of truth beating love underneath. Now I toss their paper dolls back….maybe one day there will be something underneath of substance that will shine far more than the superfluous flesh and ego needs.

If your life was your message, what would it say if you looked back on it. Thinking of how Easwaran’s books have inspired me to think.

In a Field


I feel I pour my heart out to the world

what more can I do

but sit and wait patiently for you

when all I want to do is to lay in a field

and confide in you

share our hopes and fears and dreams

to forge a protection of hearts

safe in the bosom

of a love divine




The Will…to heal


Feeling like a broken winged little bird

knowing with the right amount of care

I ‘ll find healing and growth to mend

for in the healing of ourselves we heal one another


Certainly we have all had these moments

and if we did not find one to nurture us through

we learned to look deep within the pain

to stare it in its face

for running from it

was not the choice

to release us from its grip


to be brave enough

to face ourselves

and rediscover who we are


The strength is in the will to know thyself

in order to heal thyself…

too many are afraid and run from themselves

and never will they heal

from pursuits

lest one catch a glimpse of love there

yet been running so long

it too will flee

they question everything

and do not know how to be

as they question who they are…


to sit still

answers come



Retrograde Renegade

circling sharks

Like sharks circling back

do they sense my splashing

why me their prey

they wish to captivate

is this what happens

when mercury goes retrograde

noticing this movement of planets and men

trying to drown me in their sin

I shall not merge beneath their skies

where darkness blankets their hearts

for at the back of the class they cannot hear

when all they do is fail to see

it’s written in the stars

just like the light

inside must come forth

they must move closer

to the forefront

of matter

to see their escape

to emerge

from the submerging

of the air that flees

a drowning man at sea

there is a lighthouse

hidden there

when intellect and heart connect

the soul is born

and beyond the universe

it speaks

thrash no more

within the depths of silence

where all is still

but activity of mind

does not cease

to be a renegade of faith

to move forward

beyond these

tides of illusion


Purpose from you to me…

digital smoke

I think the story needs to soon be written to fill in the gaps…

You see I think my days are fleeting like the wind…

I wonder where this wafts in…

the lump in my throat…what does it hide

nothing in the end…

where did it begin

falling out of a car

hitting a car


and knowing death’s presence is always lurking

from the knowing of a child born into innocence

to find itself lost in the dark of the abyss

the truth lines the streets of my journey home

the purpose in the heart

to forewarn

and to protect

and shine the light that always is right there

always shining and burning if you dare step inside its bosom

there within the divine

carries me…

and shelters us all


a purpose forthcoming from you to me…

what death says to life…


To Love with abandon without fear and its strings

Parth quote

Sometimes I just wished I had a lover, one to touch and to be touched by. Someone I could lay in bed with and map each other’s body, to touch the skin, and move in and out of the rhythms of actions, where all flows in and out of the senses, ultimately pricking and soothing them.

This is not about being in love, but being love in actions, actions to surrender to the movement of energies, and allowing there to be space for that energy to come forth from the depths of being.

In the heart and mind a surrender to the presence of each other a sacred and divine gift to give and to receive for it is of the creative force given to us all to explore and pay homage to, for that is what honor and charity are in actions to love and truly love with abandon without fear and its strings….and if on its wings love is born…all the more the depths of the highs and lows of existence take form.

To be or not to be…in an environment where it is safe to trust and become so fluid in being is something I think we all need and crave at the very core of our fiber of existence that is far beyond the needs of the flesh, for it is a desire of the soul….to return to love.

For is not that the purpose of this life?

To find the universe inside us void of time where we are one with consciousness of creation born of love.

I’ve tasted its presence before and there my soul longs to return.

A bit sad some I’ve given a chance, long to return to me long after I am gone, some knew this space we evolved within, and some only had glimpses, and some never had these lenses. Maybe we all just have glimpses after all…

the mysteries of life, love and human sexuality…


“Meet Me Where the Stars Gather to Love the Moons. We will Find Our World There.”

~ Parth