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

11/22/2018

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

sunflowers

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

11/20/2018

 

 

The Will…to heal

hawks

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

11/20/2018

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

11/15/2018

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

loving

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

11/14/2018

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…

11/12/18

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

~ Parth

The Ghost of You

day of dead

I’d be lying if I didn’t acknowledge the hit to my gut

to see the status posted

2 days after

glad I did not fall prey to past fantasies

and just let what was felt run through without taking action

and getting caught in a trap again

to be cast out

I cannot help but think

it was a test to see what would be

but you know

I could not take that chance again

without

my heart

the one I lost somewhere along the way

I know it’s true

and too bad for you

had I taken you in

it could have never been again

in essence

to spare another innocent

the grief

delivered unto me

when blinded by love

it destroyed

the gift given so freely

taken by a thief in the night

the energy left within me

has been an undoing of sorts

yet I hope in some strange way

the energy given of me

will be a making

of hearts without me near

so when all is up and down

please don’t come around

to inject a bit of ego

into a wound

only you alone

can heal

I cannot fathom

how I would be feeling

had I taken what I wanted

that was never mine

to keep

but everything I breathed

once upon a time

no last time fling

to set you a sail

for into the seas you chart

your course

without the blemishes of despair

repeat not the past of mistakes

the greatest gift I give to thee

and to her

and most of all

to myself

a taste of the slice of innocence

I once had

becomes the poison I dare not drink again

no matter how much

it may have united

the immortal dance to step within

no matter its presence

lingers evermore

to embrace and release

carriages are not for me

for in a field of pumpkins I will lay

and in due time

the slipper shall slip

then come what may

shall come again to play

when the heart is empty

nothing but love can fill the day

the mourning is far from complete

I carry it with me

but it does not lead me astray

one day the politics will not sever

that which could not be undone

when truth hits home

may warmth shine upon your heart

a memory so fond

no ice can withstand

the summer’s glow

tip, to tip

wrapped round

and unbound

no matter which way the age of time blows

the candle and the flame

sees it all

the light that shines beyond this life

enraptures us all to love

and on bent knee

true love presents itself

sooner or later to us all

a kiss to the wind

behind my back

is the breeze that shall carry me home

Sigh, and smile, such transitory flights

but what is real lasts

and what is not shall pass…

just a ghost of the past flickering through…

I observe, and give a hug to embrace

and blow a kiss to the air

for I know there is nothing there

for me to hold therefore

it is a dare

to think otherwise

there is a flickering

for me to catch you in a flame

without

I am not game

to entertain a ghost in my heart

for once I did

never was I the same

I know all too well the masks your heart wears

and all too well I know

what it needs

and if it was me

you let me go

because it was not

meant for strangers to the heart

evermore

 

10/30/2018

Swift the Wind She Speaks

black horse

Slapped down

Battened down

Forced into the shade

Gagged and bound

passed around

like some tribal slave

the ego rests its head

upon the graves of innocence

did it make you bleed

to see the cut so deep

you cannot force me to bleed

for you

threaten me

to make me desolate

to take your refuge of lies away

where shall they go

when I am tied

and they have no where to go

but fester inside of you

the scapegoat you flung

into the air of your deceit

convincing others of so many wonderful feats

in pomp and slippery candied coated

personas you wear

so cleverly you have them fooled

if not you

it were her

these wretches in what they do

ran from one to find another soon thereafter

sucking at the dew

this evil cord that runs amuck

through men

and women

in unconscious tributes

to the stains they wear

as they lash out

into mockery of their selves

it is repugnant when seen for what it is

their blindness in folly

of wanton affairs

seething in sinew

the nerve to shred another

does not rest

well in their beds

try as they might to break another

when never their task shall be undone

unto themselves broken they befall

for not escaping the claws that jaded

and marred their quest

and in steed upon their backs

the striking of the whips

shall crack

and into their peril they shall run

dumping their deeds

before the feet

swift the wind she speaks

they stumble and fall

onto their knees

when mercy reckons  with the beast

 

10/24/2018