seven motorcycles

and they came in across the water

i feel like

there are a zillion things i could be doing, and yet i do nothing. i still have no job, but i feel like even if i got a job, still i would be doing nothing. it would merely distract me from that fact. i feel like i have limitless potential, that i can do anything but at the very same time i do not feel confident that i can do anything. i have hidden myself away from everyone and everything and now this island has floated so far away from other land that i can't possibly get back, so i'm waiting for a boat, but maybe i forgot to watch for planes and maybe there was a boat or two or three or more but i didn't trust that they would make it to land so i didn't get in and now maybe there are no more boats or planes coming. but there probably will be more boats or planes, but maybe i will keep finding excuses to stay on this island. like even now, i spent days writing this s.o.s in the sand and when the plane comes i'll send them away because i have some fish cooking on a fire and maybe i'll just ask them to come by later.

like some kind of head injury

like i'm the farmer and i stick to my farmer responsibilities, but i got hit in the head just enough to believe that i'm a chicken and so i lock myself up.

spinning in a field

i'm spinning in a field. sometimes it's the kind of spinning a child does in the summertime, twirling fast with your arms straight out, free and easy, laughing maybe, like rolling down a hill. and at other times it's that kind of lost bewildered spinning, with your hands sometimes grabbing at your head like it's going to explode and at other times hanging out by your sides, hands open, looking to the sky like it holds answers. spinning, spinning to face infinite directions and you have no idea where to go and danger lurks everywhere. like if you were in a movie it would have all these frenzied shots of different directions, and then your face and then other directions and then a full body shot for the full effect... allover psychotic and paranoid. maybe with dirt on your face. that's the kind of spinning i'm doing now.

all this to say i don't wear diamonds.

a conversation with physics

there was a rip in the fabric of my time and space. the world was shielded from catastrophe by a ball of string. the physics is all the same, it's almost like nothing happened. but the shape and dimension is all different now. i am still very much adjusting to the new digs.

part of me wishes it had been a little more catastrophic. part of me wishes it had commanded a little more attention. but my gravitational effects are very limited. and the universe won't let me implode. apparently, it's not an option. because we are not made up of point particles, so we can never get down so far enough to disappear. so it's more like a cosmic bounce. frustrating and reassuring, i suppose.

well actually, it's fascinating. if i could muster up the energy to care. but it's still october.

maybe too still.

if i started spinning, something in the physics would have to change. or would something in the physics have to change for me to spin...?

if you take away my free will, physics, we will have to have some words. it may even come to fisticuffs... but i guess that wouldn't be up to me, would it?

don't ask me. i'm no einstein or newton or aspinwall or calabi or yau. i can't even imagine their six dimensional shapes, let alone digest their true brilliance. i settle for two dimensional approximations and summary understanding.

but i'm not yet worried about my free will. not until you start making some sense of that quantum frenzy. from the looks of it, physics, there is no taming that quantum frenzy.

and that quantum frenzy is my friend.

though i guess i could be newton, cause he was mostly wrong.

well, everything is right until we discover otherwise. and we are forever discovering otherwise.

what have you been waiting for all this time?

i like my initials on the guitar.

just what about all this physics?

it's going to take me a little while to integrate all this information. to figure out what it means to me and the every day world around me, which is not so 'everyday' afterall.

we are light. and in our true forms, time stops. we are all of us, light, traveling, obviously, at light speed. warping every dimension simultaneously and effecting everything around us, even by mere observation. by mere existence. warping the fabric of time and space. in our 'everyday' perception, slowed down because our motion is in every dimension.

sure, you run around in a frenzy all day and sure, at these greater speeds, time slows down. but there is no benefit. because at greater speeds and slowed down time, it's like you move in slow motion.

while i dance furiously, standing still.

only to make you/me hurt less

i can't control you
but i want to
for your own good

i want to hug you until the shaking stops
until everything bad is gone for good
i want you to see things from my perspective
cause i promise you it's easier here

it hurts me that you won't help yourself
that you don't want to
it hurts me that you can't see
what is for your own good

i can't control you
but i want to
for your own good

so i just have to let it go
let you go
let us go
and leave you to your own devices

we only hurt ourselves.

dive in

and just when you thought you'd just about had enough, like the air is just about to run out, another door opens and you have a whole new room to explore. it doesn't matter that the air in this room will eventually run out, too. now is not the time for rationing your breath. now is the time to breathe it in deeply.

while it's still fresh.

the lightbulb just above your head

i hold back a tear as i watch the earth move outside my window. i feel it move, even in here. the colours of fall are on fire and i can’t believe how little most people are doing, myself included – how unimpressed many people seem to be with this gift. no matter what you do or don’t believe, i find it hard to believe that this tree – that sky – doesn’t sometimes make you gasp for air. and in that sharp breath you aren’t reminded that these are the things that work just so – perfectly so that you and I can breathe. as long as we don’t mess it up.

so embrace the hope. and replace your lightbulbs.

comfort in darkness?

i try not to write about the darkness, but i assure you it exists if that makes you feel any better.

my shiny world falls apart time and time again. and each time, i grit my teeth and build it back up again.

eventually gritting my teeth looks and feels just like smiling.

it spins and it's beautiful, just like us

let's keep it that way.

(i'm a day late, i know... but that doesn't mean we can't catch up and learn something)

cast no shadows

because you are light
and light travels through you

these bodies

these bodies are incredible
their expression makes me smile smiles that you can't even see

but these souls
these souls are infinite.

our soul is my muse

examing my teeth in the mirror (my love affair with flossing)

look at this body of parts so mechanical, look at it go. look at it opening closing and coming and going. look at it keeping itself alive, i just refuel.

look at this perfectly perfect machine, just flawless in all of it's physical features. so graceful embracing what's rolling around it so clumsy expressing the soul that abounds.

to other bodies
of parts
of experience.

but even these words - these movements - are beautiful.
understated.

and in those rare moments when we truly appreciate that everything is an expression of the divine, we are able to truly experience the soul.
mingling seemlessly with every other soul.
expressing perfection perfectly
no need for words. like the sound of fluttering butterflies
where it's more like a feeling.

i feel as i hear
i taste as i see

i heard you speak like music

the world is so poetic,
i'm in love with it because
it's full and energetic.
i love it just because it is

every word is like a song
and everyone's a poet
we've all been rhyming all along
- don't always know it.

i dance when i can to the energy beats.

good vibrations requesting your approval

the energy doesn't treat
the energy doesn't judge
the energy just beats
and awaits your indulgences

and boy, if it's there then i'll be dippin in it
and boy, it's always there and it's so flippin'

lovely here
lovely here
lovely everywhere

here's hoping and knowing you're responding and loving to all the good good good good good good good - good vibrations.

peace & love. you know the drill :)

my new love affair with apples

it's about giving each fruit, each bite, the time and attention it deserves. God is beautiful and delicious. i couldn't make this stuff up if i tried.

if only for the sake of the experience. at first, and then we become one.
i love you.

the grown up version (not so far, just light years)

laughing joyful at myself right now. and at myself, right then.
remembe-learning what my life was like so long ago back when.
things were definitely harder and i had so far to go.
not like i've gone exactly far, but least i know i won't

be going backwards like i was so much in so much ignorance
of what is beautiful and true and no different. t's
not like i'm better now but then i had sure cause to be so whiny
cause i always have been - always will be shiny.

i loved myself a load too much, i think is what it was.
like it was inappropriate... but it never was.
tried to downplay i was special, like why me? what' v' i done?
and just who do - who do - who do - who do - whodoyou think you are?

(i know that last line doesn't rhyme. *shrug* i thought it showed my growth.
that i can write: a poem that rhymes, a poem that doesn't rhyme, and both.)
not only grown, but stayed so oh so oh so stubbornly my own.
never discarding all those things i knew deep down i'd ever known.

just a girl trying to make some sense of her experience
never realizing she was just - but not at all - different
taught so much of separation she'd 'bout given up.
...but just below the surface, gearing up.

body moving soul but it's the other way around

like a rap song beat caressing
i'm addressing you
expressing you
you dressed up like a body
but i know you better, soul

like i even have to tell you
but this spelling is
a spell on you
you tell me with your body
but i know you better, soul

open bracket

we are all angels. we are always whispering.

in, one. out, one.

there is nothing you cannot know if you choose to be aware. there is nothing you cannot accomplish if you choose to exist in a state of peace and love. it is a decision you make to enter into each moment with joy, rather than reacting to each moment once you are already inside.

they say that suffering is inevitable. but they also say this God is a petty vengeful God. i know God, but i don't know this God they speak of. they do not know this God they speak of either, because they haven't looked inside. i'll tell you again: you are divine.

please believe.
peace, believe.
i love you.
you know this.

it feels like an invisible rash

i only have eyes for you...

well ain't that incredibly limiting?

i'm not sure about this whole love thing (well, no. i'm sure about this whole love thing, just not the way you are talking about it). that love promoted in songs and movies and tv shows and so much popular culture. like if you don't have it, you are missing out. if you don't have it, your life is empty. if you don't have it, it's all you are looking for.

i fall in love a million times a day. over and over again.

and i assure you, i am not missing out.

so, unless my soulmate is one of any number of trees, we aren't talking about the same thing.

this is big-love-no-limits and whole-body-smiles.

and there is no cure.

i see myself everywhere. in a field. on a bus. up a tree.
i see myself in you and everyone.
i wrap my arms around myself to see you do the same.

this love is contagion.

turning japanese

i'm so underground, i've come back out on the otherside.

great expectations

what have you been up to?

i usually shrug and lie.

not too much.

because i don't expect people to understand the answer. or like it. not that people like my shoulder manipulations either... like something is wrong with me because i don't live the way they live. or jealousy on the other hand because maybe people would like not to be doing too much as well.

but in all honesty, if i were to honestly answer that question it would go a little more like this:

i am just biding my time.

for what? you ask.

i am waiting for a plan.

so much inaction, you can't handle it, i know. make a plan! do something with your time! your thoughts are screaming, i can tell. see? that's why the shrugs and lies. the truth seems to you like less of an answer and i don't mean to get you all riled up like that.

you implore me to expand, but i can't. if i already knew what the plan was... well, then i wouldn't be biding my time would i? of course, i am expecting ridicule. most people do not have such great faith in the unknown. i revel in the unknown because it is so much greater than the known. you expect that at this rate, i will be waiting forever for nothing. you expect i may die here, waiting forever.

you wouldn't have expected me to be right. but i've been expecting you. and you are always right on time.

oh, i've got a plan for you, he said.
i've got a plan and you'll love it. possibly he threw in a wink at that moment.
just bide your time for now.

i nodded knowingly.

you weren't expecting that. but i have been. all along.

happy thanksgiving.

back to biding for now.

five percent and you've already seen what we can do

i read a book and like usual, it reminded me of everything i already know. this is not to say that i already know everything - well, not in any sort of prideful way - but yes, i know everything. we all know it. with what? five percent of our brains on the go? and already brilliant! already shiny with truth!

five percent of our brains and you are going to tell me i can't fly?! five percent of our brains and i can't see music? taste sight? hear smell? five percent of our brains and you have the audacity to tell me that we can't fix this five-percent mess we got ourselves into?

i'm rewiring. now. as we speak. don't get comfortable with five percent. don't get comfortable with these limited synapses. for some it takes smashing into walls and reworking what your left with. and for others, walking through walls is already not off limits. and five percent is so very much not enough.

this is not your responsibility

toothpaste mint still lingering freshness. mimicking cold, but not exactly. teeth taste of sweet nothing.

words are close, but never not exactly.

welcome to the high point of my day. is that tragic? or somehow beautiful? or always both?

nothing is changing.
i devolve.

which i guess is change, but since i've been here before i'm no longer interested. wasn't even interested the first time.
but at least it's familiar...?

i'm bound to get hit by a bus if i keep standing here... well, at least that would be something.

if i shed one tear, would that even mean something?

are not i illogical, too?