Ishtar Breaths

Capture the air in my lungs and complete the circuit of healing.
Ether awakened within ME. 
Spiraling through my solar plexus and dan ten.
Wrapping gently around my kundalini and sprouting lilac blossoms of freedom. 
For the first time I can breath!

Photo: Soul Voice /  Graphics: Leilainia

Widowed Soul Of Love

Cry for the widowed Soul Of Love

She silently weeps at the gates of hell

awaiting her lover who has long gone to heaven.

Blindly she feels her way through the dirt and mud

Feeling the eye balls of the dead, 

mistaking them for peebles on the road.

Her journey is dark and filled with turmoil

as she crawls into the abyss of soul searching

Only to find her soul was long ago sold to the angel of broken dreams. 

Sensual lust washes over her 

as the blood of heaven drips through the cracks…

and she drinks it up.

Baths herself in hell

laughing all the way. 

Broken wings tattered and dirty 

grease graces her shoulder as she grasps for the gates. 

Rattled,  the road shakes

Rattled, hells gates creak

as she kicks the lock loose to let me in. 

And a roar of demon hell soars from her being

Fire ignites and lust pours out. 

Cry for the widowed Soul Of Love

waivered away by miscommunication 

sight gone

broken wing

hooves of crows

beak of lion

mane of dragon

Confused child of heaven 

dropped like a rain drop 

bleeding into life.

She crawls into awareness 

and crunches down on the legs of earthly beings. 

Tears of black soot fall from the dark holes 

surrounded by lashes.

Bits of human flesh dangle from her lips and are stuck in her fangs. 

She traps me in her gut of indigestible realities of Hell. 

Her breathe is hot as she grunts: “You want Peace?…

Travel past my lips and into my belly to find those who sought peace.”

She belches a deep gurgling truth that resounds within all beings.

“Peace is the non existence of humanity!…

Peace is the waiting room for hell.

I AM PEACE!”

and I claw to escape her esophagus.

only to fall a sleep into an another dream 

I call life. 

Photo by Craig TheKiwi Brayton

Someone else's shoes.

The morning poem. (Should be read as a song. similar to: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=R2F_hGwD26g )

Nothing in this life's for free
Except for eternity. 
Just turn the key
And u will be
Happy

Love u gotta let it in
And let it flow out
And without a doubt
You will be happy 
And u will find your already wealthy 

Once u open up to the world of you
Once u walk in only your shoes 
Then u will find a piece of life that is so sweet, 
sweeter than the best vegan cake

I . .. I walked alone in someone else's shoes for so long I lost my place
I ... I walked alone in someone else's smile until I broke and cracked into pieces
And my hole is now filled with light of sunshine 

I woke this morning to the rays of heaven
I woke this morning until I fell into oblivion
Am I wrong to fall into u? 
Am i wrong to fall into heaven? 
Heaven only knows the hell that lies beneath the walls of sorrow
Heaven only knows the fire that burned so deep into the well of emotion

Nothing in this life's for free
Except for eternity. 
Just turn the key
And u will be
Happy

Love u gotta let it in
And let it flow out
And without a doubt
You will be happy 
And u will find your already wealthy 
inside

The Boring Blog About Being Bored

According to Wikipedia:  
Boredom is an emotional state experienced when an individual is left without anything in particular to do, and not interested in their surroundings. 
To Bore is to pierce (a solid substance) with some rotary cutting instrument or to force (an opening), as through a crowd, by persistent forward thrusting.

In any case, I’m bored. Not in the forcing an opening way, just plain old bored. And what happens when I’m bored? I watch the colors shift inside tiny droplets of rain as they fall gentle on the window pane and slide down the glass. One after another sometimes barely missing each other, sometimes colliding, sometimes gentling merging into one bigger prism of their temporary life. The reality fuzzes away and the soft and subtle texture of a single rain drop gracefully dances on the glass surface. It takes the world around it and capsulates it in one little droplet of time until it reaches it’s grounding point and releases the light into the ever changing surface of it’s new home. 

… And when I’m bored I sit in coffee shops and watch new lovers awkwardly flirt over tea and foamy coffees. Their eyes bashfully look away from each other. Their hands accidentally touch. Her eye lashes flutter.  His voice cracks a bit as he tries to stay calm. The energy of pink blushes up from their skin.  Illusions of future realities dance in their imagination.

 
 … And I watch old lovers share space together so comfortably, growing closer every second in silence allowing their heart love to sink deeper into their soul. They relish in the comfort of home within love. Just sitting side by side knowing everything will be just fine.  I watch  the old lovers as they silently sit looking at rain drops on the window pane coloring their world with prisms of love and entertainment. 

… And when I’m bored I act out. I rustle things up and bore holes in my reality. I cry and scream, kick and paint and fuck. I tear away any chance of reality and fall into psychosis just to feel this thing called humanity! To be in this capable body with nothing to do! To be in this complex mind with nothing to solve! To be bored with reality is sinful ,so I must sin and I sin good! I bore those holes into all I know is real until every moment of this fucking boredom is gone.  

… And when I’m bored I dance. I make up lyrical songs in my head more beautiful than any song my ears have ever heard and my body dances in the most fluid way I’ve ever experienced. It just moves without any mental energy at all. Arms fly into perfect lines and legs kick higher than I’ve ever been capable. I summersault on my bed. I leap on the couch and pirouette off the arm cushion. I roll on the floor and spring up onto my toes. My hair flies and my body twirls effortless into ecstasy. Rainbows lift from my extensions and rain evaporates from my spirit. 

… And when I am bored, I call to the spirits … and they speak back. I ask them questions of why the world is the way it is and why we are the way we are. They say things like … well one particular spirit, Akasha, answered: “In you is placed imagination. In you is creative thought. In you is the unknown knowledge of all time that grows wiser with each incarnation.” 
And when I asked: How do I gather more love? Another spirit answered: “By being more love.”   They also say things like: “The key to life is gratitude.” 
… Those bored moments actually went on for a while and bore a hole in all I knew that was reality so much so that I felt insanity kicking in. But that was just another moment in my boring life that flew away with fleeting time….

… My father always said “Only boring people get bored”.  I see know what he meant. Bored people are BORE-ING! They do pierce an opening within them selves.  Each boring moment creates an opening for a new outlook on life. It can give you a moment to breathe before the next opportunity arrises to grow. It allows the colors to rest for a moment within a raindrop. It allows the lovers to fall deeper in love. It allows the psychosis to untangle it self. It allows the dance to be awoken. It allows the spirits to share their message. 

Without that moment with “nothing particular to do” we might never… well …. get BOREd into and grow.