Reaching out beyond the dream of what you thought was real, spinning on this ball of life, head now under heel. Ready to die, to live this life so raw, alive on ledge- dancing, hurling, freeing your soul to finally stretch the edge.
(There is a fluency of motion that is incurred by the blending of two
sensations such as symmetry (sight) and emotion (touch). Think of the two
strands of the helix, how when they wrap up in each other, two lines become
something so much more extraordinary than any collective configuration could
ever have dreamt of being. It's what makes art dance right off the page; or
music leap right into your soul; or maybe even love expressed with or without
words. These motions are what move our souls. I know you know this feeling of
complete ecstasy, when holding, kissing and loving the one who moves your soul,
and whereupon you are lost to both time and dimension. It's in that
intertwining of two cords of life that the sweet little twister mingles our
souls. A trip through death's emboldened door into heaven, even if only for
And isn't anything that you do with your soul, absolutely your art? Even, or
maybe especially, when it’s in your sex. )
i wait in the cool sheets
wearing nothing but desire
thinking of you, tonight,
dreaming of your sex, it's on fire
my eyes are closed and yet
i see your strong hand, sweetly
reaching for me,
so instead of sitting, idly burning,
i pray for you to call me
i'm all curled up in my bed,
wishing that love was here with me
oh but it's just a few minutes past noon
so i'll just close my eyes and dream
waiting for the night
So you're laying in bed and this song comes on. I'm not sure if I've never heard it before, or just never really listened, before. Today I really heard it. I had to listen again. And then again. I know the drill when I become obsessed with these things: First swim in it, then let it drown you. Finally, lose yourself in it. That's the whole falling in love with it, thing. Falling.
The song, well I played it several times because it connected with things I have seen and felt, so it was most welcomed. That perfect bliss where understanding of something whether it's a speck of dust or that your orbit has reversed its spin, or maybe- that another soul knows what yours knows.
That's what art does- it helps you to recognize, accept, embrace or rise above- whatever you are carrying. It just takes life's scariness and pain, and wraps it in an intriguing package that we revel in opening. In a world of confusion we need the common threads to tie us to our cores and to open us so that we can feel, see and be without fear or self loathing. Belly to belly, the epicenters of our truth sensors are meant to connect.You're making my belly tumble. It's good to be heard.
Please sit back, let go of your thoughts and enjoy this dream, too...
You know that I could use somebody...someone like you. ; )
He cannot be happy, until he chooses to be happy.
We make these choices, I think, because we don't believe in happiness.
Unhappiness is our mother and the father of our esteem.
I saw this darkness in her and felt its sting in me.
I remembered that i knew that once.
Let it go.
It is not real.
You must have known the way it felt
when I fell into your kiss so deep
you surely felt my woman melt
your steel resolve, while on my knees
Verse 2 (...grrrrr this is going to be a tough one)
Is it okay to skip a verse? What if it's the bridge between the insanity and the reality of life. Is either one real? It's just love. This is just life. I'm praying:Please don't give up on me.
But I think maybe you didn't see
the things that I had seen
for if you felt what I can feel
you'd still be here, loving me
"One who loves all the world as if it were his own flesh and blood, can be relied upon to rule an empire."- Lao Tzu
I wonder how it makes God (or in my little world, "Love") feel to see that all of these children have drawn lines between themselves and their others.
I can't help but think that it tears the very fabric of being away from its cloaking, to reveal a broken, baffled patriarch who wanted nothing more than to watch its offspring thrive and be happy.
How sad that we can't hear each other's pleas, see each other's smiles and hug each other's children.
In the name of self we have claimed or stolen land so that we can feed our own children. Then we condemn others for trying to commit the sins which we had already mastered.
I look at my own children and know that my parental love wants to see them thrive and be happy. So how could a "greater" love than this want anything less for its beloved? For whose children have you planted your flag? Whose love are you emulating?