Where are the stars tonight?

Where are the stars tonight?

I swam in the river of your love trying to drink from the nectar of live. You are sending me

around the tree of dizziness and gave me years of memories – the smiles and the tugs to my

heart. I see you in the waterfall in the morning’s shiver. I see you in the warmth of the sun. I see

you everywhere.

Where are the stars tonight?

They are hiding behind the clouds.

They don’t speak in twinkles.

The speak in hushed tones of the night.

I need you to shield me from the pain.

I need someone’s hand to hold me.

I’m growing younger only in my mind.

Trying to hide my age.                                                           

I am getting wrinkles etched on my body one at a time.

The bones aren’t what they used to be.

I am gracefully aging and driving me crazy.

I’m poetic in my heart so if you want to be written in the passage of my life please give me your

pen of light so I can write. I feel time is escaping me as I tumble over another year into

tomorrow.  A cloth over the mirrors as my youth died as one white hair made its appearance.   

blessing you with the God of aging to reverse the tides without cruelty. You made me feel you and

that is something I am not. I want to roll in the waves of your adulation. The wind pushed the

feeling of hope with you away. Your swollen ego was the barb that didn’t hook me. So is your

mournful chant with your silky hand beckoning me to come home. Enticing and hypnotizing the

divine within you where love is present. I let my love go into the wind and its wildness pulled me

in every direction. You sat by my side – you in spirit – me in physical. You took my essence and

scattered it to the violent winds creating fragments of not being able to search for it ever again.

Many will try but that was and is not their moment in time to show their debut in truth.

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A child’s gossamer blanket

Halloween decor, spider cobweb, hand drawn vector illustration.

A child’s Gossamer’s blanket

The child in me was pulled by Gossamer tentacles to experience life in the future of recollection.

A baby’s prattle becomes life’s prattle, later in life with a different prattle of a distraction of a

life not healed.

These gossamer tentacles lure me with a silky hand to review life close to the pounding chest of

creation gone mad.

The newborn innocence tainted with adult eyes and the reading from their book of domination

which only belong to the parents – for now – waiting for discontinuance.

The age of rebellion in my toddler years was recounted with serious faces written on their walls

of revelations – the apocalypse years.

A Satan incarnate I was, I am told.

I prefer to say I was experiencing life with the vigor of a newborn star.

Being a schoolboy saw me being corrupted by views from my peers, teachers, other adults

and the biggest influences were my parents trying to keep me in childhood.

I was in a world throwing many puzzles with pieces not fitting in this sticky web

with all its trapping stuck to my essence.

A teenager’s era visited me with a crashing insurgency that left everyone in its wake of

disappointment.

An age of experimentation with drugs, alcohol, and a sexual appetite where I surrendered

everything except for the taste of flesh.

Youth brought me a challenge as the apron strings I cut and where my childhood was

revisited many times.

I was aging despite a short respite from my childhood memories pulling me back to the age of

navel gazing in an existence of naivete.

My thoughts swirl on the beach of sorrow.

There are no secrets with me, only to sink my consciousness catering to my appetite of curiosity.

I have one account up to my toddler stage and none afterwards as I fabricated all after I

crossed over.

Therefore, my secrecy will always be hidden in childhood.

Poison me

Poison me   

He thought she was poison racing through the veins of humanity.

I scraped the dust off the teeth of the moon who in turn bit me with brightness.

You harbored my soul on your dark side.

I did see you in my teardrop.

A dead one-way ticket in your heart without making new memories. He looked at himself in the mirror he

saw he was dripping of poison.

It is the will

 It is the will

The delicate rose petals with their lips let words of wisdom pass in whispers. It touches the heart

which swells with more love from Source.  She never falls in slavery – or the entrapment of the

earth’s realm. She is free as all of us can be gathering clouds to wash us cerebrally. A start to

newness and she throws down lightning to those who were trying control still and the thunder a

warning……    I’m ready for a melding of soul – a oneness in our short period of travel with

Gaia. She will assure you are not on your knees for deliverance and what a day that will be

tomorrow she will leave having left her spiritual footprints on our essence. We become loss in

our maze where she will lead us out of bondage which has tied our hand and keeps us in

blindness. I will tell you I am in the fold of my essence, and I haven’t fallen to the hooks of the

powers that be. We are all on the riverbank of a joyous self discovery where peace will follow,

and love will reign. Gather ye in the center of your being with a dusting of peacefulness.

A truth in a lantern

A truth in a lantern

The moon, the lantern of romance pulls at you in every which way with the tides of supposed love

that hangs for an affirmation in chaos and sometimes does mimic love.  Love tangles the heart and

mind in a crazy possession of unspoken perimeters – a box of your choosing which chokes my life

blood away and sagenites a bleeding heart. One must be careful of the dark side of the moon where

unknown shadows lurk that feed on the unknown fears you may harbor with lust. In the brier patch

where there is a hole of decency should you be curious enough to enter and add something

delightful on your spiritual journey that takes a twist and a turn for an ultimate surprise of delicacy

tasting the light. As we lick our fingers one must be cautious that it is not poison that you dipped

in humanities affairs one should let Source handle. The mirror doesn’t always tell you all.  It

doesn’t always reflect niceties and it doesn’t always tell the truths of what you want to hear until

you are ready to see the truths you have been told which are lies that will be a bitter pill for you to

swallow. And swallow you will thrice and then you will get a semblance of what the mirror is

whispering to you all along and then it will crack.  It shatters as your life did and the piece glued

back together will be a mosaic to try and make sense of it all. And so, understanding the puzzle

from the beginning….

Like in the movie “Matrix”

You took my hand

You took my hand

I will always remember your face even though you are pulling away.

A butterfly that winks like a star; a shooting star that flies on a speedy road on a black sky.

The glow of our relationship brightly shine in a darkened sky that gives it light.

It is a wonder, a perception of my fairy tale.

I’ve crossed the seas in calm waves to find you and every wave is a hope in the wet ripple.

The flickering lights waking up from a dream through the trees of a shaken reality.

Through the whispers of the forest, I travelled within my soul.

I believe when I cross, I will find you.

A connection that always is and was through the fog of my breath where I see where I want to

be.

And there you are holding my hand of departure and in one twinkle I’ll be joining you in the

mirror of life.

Is love slavery

Is love slavery

You have led me into and made me fall into slavery with your crooked wide smile. Your sense of

charisma you wear in the energy that surrounds you manifested in deception. The innocent eyes

opened by the winds of change. With the depth of those eyes, I see you looking in the mirror of

nothingness.  A vacuous mirror with no reflection of reality.  I saw the silhouette of your life in

the shadows of a quaking resurgence of truth. Eyes to the sky fervently waiting for answers that

will never come.  Time to lift the blinds from your soul with years of slavery.  Blinded to the love

which is your birthright.  A love that always was and is and will always be present. The third

inspector of your soul will always be discerning to tap into the Akashic records.  One smells the

perfume of your search self-discovery journey. I see the glow in her smile something heavenly

not of earth. I am sure she is not from here. In the depth of her essence, I see the stars where she

belongs.

I scream for the trees

I scream for the trees

In the end I take a piece of paper to write down my thoughts and the piece of paper screams for the trees.

Poison me

Poison me

He thought she was poison racing through the veins of humanity.

I scraped the dust off the teeth of the moon who in turn bit me with brightness.

You harbored my soul on your dark side.

I did see you in my teardrop.

A dead one-way ticket in your heart without making new memories.

He looked at himself in the mirror and he saw he was dripping of poison.

I set myself free

I set myself free

Setting me free as a leaf finds itself in the wind. You cried to numb your path on me rubbing my

heart raw. You gave me two scoops of your essence in your recipe how you see your life. You’ve

laid me down in a bed of thorn of your making. I was kind of green and your passionate love

much more in the soul of you being. I was hanging by a thread and you made a noose of joy

killing the joie de vivre. Again, cloaked in your shadow of yourself where I suffocated from your

supposed amour that is in hibernation. I’m crawling in your passion in the marrow of what is

needed in the light. A recognition of the beauty has grown within the spiritual garden where a

bounty of tenderness exist. You swallowed my pain spitting out nails to my heart wounding it

and leaving me to bleed dry. I will not catch the barb to my ears in your wicked sentences and

life does go on.