Equilibrium.

April 2018 “I’m reaching equilibrium without them, ya know … the Pseudo-Gods.” “Equilibrium was always best reached alone.” “My heart doesn’t even hurt enough anymore to cry out that this isn’t fair.” “Hence, your state. Your peace. Your space.” “That’s how it all started, ya know.” “What?” “Space.” “How so?” “I was alone in an…

Word Chemistry – Redemption to Love.

Unfettered faith is paramount in manifesting future redemption through the kaleidoscope looking glass, with intuition at the helm and the pirates in its wake. Become the master of your own story with eyes peeled in vigilance and satisfaction upon your self-vindication and exoneration from tragedy thrown in your flames by those shaken solid in the…

Psychosis is Healing in Action.

It is through my own personal experience and understanding that which much is deemed as psychosis is in large part not so much a break from reality as it a breakthrough into reality, and consequently, Western society’s drastic reaction to it. Imagine experiencing something as amazing as Brahma-Nirvana, release from all constraints, liberation and freedom…

Dear Rest.

Dear Rest, If you brought me to edge of existence and I caught a glimpse, why the flinch beyond? Why the cinch of the wand and the pinch in our bond, on earth as we know it in 3D? It was never about me and never, ever once about thee, you see, you see? It…

Wings Unfurled.

Suddenly it all makes sense … … all the sideways glances, the episodic syncs, the gnashing of teeth and cut off chances, the snipping of claws round the fire for the celebration of your life and death in tow … simultaneously, the gasping of air in the midst of the unbelievable, the twisted truths and…

They Drew the Lines.

They just stop … Full-Stop. As if some maestro is conducting all cessation of contact hence forth. Much more so like a forced possession than a harmless ghost. Into this cyclical bin tainted with remnants of memories that build on the inside with residue as it churns that which was never said while it oils…

The Fox Room.

Tailored in fanciful costume soiled with dirt mixed with moss, wrestling with the echo of maniacal laughter that dares to jump rope with genius. All so familiar. He’s dressed in flannel now, ready, set, go for the fall mirrored in the flickering flames of the unfamiliar. I can almost hear this eerie lullaby playing off-tune…

Lying Leaves.

The cigarette smoke pours from my pores and raises my awareness to the sickness we all lie in as its sinewy streams of our abandoned breath embrace the dishonesty on the tip of our tongues. Lying where we lie. As the smog surrounds us, filtering the bigger picture beyond the veil – the truth ……

Tea of Pine.

A cyclone of pine needles danced around a protective veil in the air between her rage and foot, so thick with the residue of disgust that a spark would have set the entire forest on fire had she just blasted the pile with a swifter kick. The striking scent of decay from freshly fallen pine…