i need to be explained how i overuse the term "whining" - because, if corrected, i think my less use of it would help my situation out quite a bit...
so i don't know where to put things - and i'm totallly preoccupied with fantasy worlds where everyone is still a kid and sex and awkward and sex and .......shit.......nothing like that exists.........
where does that leave me?
all the endings are wrong.......i plan them out.....i mean i figure out the things i want to say but then it never works out that way ---- i told him ------ the beginnings are easy, it's the endings i can never seem to get right......
the talking never comes.....the right words never come.......but the dreams , they always come........if i just wait it all out.......like i used to do as a kid.....stand there, obedient, compliant, ......wait it out.....then cry it all out.........then go to sleep......and let all the dreams no matter how sunny or bloody , let them all flood in.........
I won't find a wardrobe or a potion or a flying carpet or a time machine anytime soon........ so until then, what am i to do?
*eyes getting heavy* i want to write more .....i want to write better......at least so you can see what all is welling up inside ("This empty space inside of me is filling up, I want it, oh, i want it, I want it for my own, I've got to know, I've got to know, What is this place that I have found: WHAT ....IS.....THIS?").......maybe some day I'll let myself learn to get it all down on a page......just the right ending.
to this maddening.........
Friday, December 16, 2005
Thursday, December 8, 2005
Rite of Passage
Shhh…close your eyes to mens’ vain distractions…listen deeper, but close your ears…the voices of the ancients upon the wind…voices whispering through the trees, riding on the misty crest of ocean, emanating from within the rocks set upon the earth…voices crying out from within the eyes of animals…
They are calling to you…they hunger for your attentions…they speak wisdom of secret arts long forgotten…when all things were sacred…when all things were teachers, before man put his faith in man and became his own god…
Take me back my fathers, my mothers, take me behind all this, back…before…to a world where there was no impossibility…to a world entered only by children…
Shhhhh…do you hear it?...you who were born hearing, but deaf to what’s real…born seeing, but blind to what’s real…you who learned to speak, but only the languages of man…
The pulse of a living earth…bend a child’s ear to the floor of the world…hear the living voices eternal of past present and future…voices of sacred powers…voices that have always been within, before man shed this power running in fear and while running lost truth…running…running toward an idea that fires in mans need for dependence…running in pursuit of his “science”—his safe explanations and his folklore—his safe, removed mythologies…dead to the miracles of the spiritual energies of the universe, carousing in the night under the majestic power of a full moon, yet never looking up…holding in our hands irreverently what is sacred…
Listen to the heartbeat…the pounding of heated tribal drum resounding over the earth announcing life…
I shed my clothing—tear open my shirt, my chest bathing in the rays of a mystic moon…I close my eyes to mans frenetic reasoning and explanations, I silence and unlearn their education, and I reject the impossibilities of the civilized…and know in my heart that there is much more…untapped…unused…forgotten. “Believe”, they chant in unison, whispering…those ancients gathered in the sacred circle forming within and beneath the aura of full moonlight…forming round the man now unprotected and stripped of the depth and levels of being walled in to the prison of textbook existence…a single man naked and dwarfed by a new world opening up around him—the openness of mountain, of redwood, of sea, of stars in the open night, the cries of the nocturnal creatures, and the mystery and fear of gods---the symphony of nature backing the growing volume of voice that now deafens the sounds of fearful men who reinvented life in their own image and turned their backs on the truthful matters of the spirit within---that which was, is, and will always be.
The power of creation---living, breathing, and moving in all things…the power of creation that lies within our will and upon our very tongue…”Believe”, the one voice of many chants even louder---and I do—and something opens within me and around me---I begin to see higher and farther then before---to see into depths hidden--- not with my senses, but with spirit rousing free from constraint and limits and I, like the moonlight shining upon me and now within me, beam true---the truth of what lies within me…what has lived within me all along and shared in the same heartbeat---lying dormant in wait of this very night…”I Believe!”, I scream under the powerful stillness of the full moon as the wind rushes down to carry my voice higher, echoing wildly on ancient canyon walls…
Cold heat showers over me in waves and shimmers violently in power within me…a medicine injected into my being that begins to travel through the spirits bloodstream from the top of my head, over my shoulders, coating my ribcage, moving through me and out to my extremities like fingers of healing…a vision of a shadow blacker than night moving over the plains, interrupting the stillness of mans sleep appears before me…I hear another’s heartbeat, strong and true, out of the shadows into the light of moon comes revelation…the head of father wolf---face to face with myself…the heartbeat I hear is my own…I look into the mirror of the spirit…medicine of the animal firing my body alive---wolf eyes speaking volumes to my spirit, wolf soul teaching me ancient wisdom with the speed of bolts of lightning, abandoned by man long ago---
I am spirit, and I am man, and I am wolf…there is a new energy coursing through me---the energy of change---traveling from man to wolf and back again, over the bridge of spirit within…I rage hot in my rite of passage, the pains of my rebirth, the first breaths heaving through new powerful lungs… possessed by the souls of those ancients crying out to be heard again…my heart now beating in unison with the tribal drums of the spirit realm heartbeat…with the thunder of the skies, and with the pounding of the surf…
I am man, and I am beast, and I am here…now…supernatural and hungry… before a world desperately, but in futility, attempting to explain me away…I will not disappear like another of your dreams you force yourself, fearful man, to wake from. I will run free on two legs and on four in this realm, over earth, over air, and over plane.
They are calling to you…they hunger for your attentions…they speak wisdom of secret arts long forgotten…when all things were sacred…when all things were teachers, before man put his faith in man and became his own god…
Take me back my fathers, my mothers, take me behind all this, back…before…to a world where there was no impossibility…to a world entered only by children…
Shhhhh…do you hear it?...you who were born hearing, but deaf to what’s real…born seeing, but blind to what’s real…you who learned to speak, but only the languages of man…
The pulse of a living earth…bend a child’s ear to the floor of the world…hear the living voices eternal of past present and future…voices of sacred powers…voices that have always been within, before man shed this power running in fear and while running lost truth…running…running toward an idea that fires in mans need for dependence…running in pursuit of his “science”—his safe explanations and his folklore—his safe, removed mythologies…dead to the miracles of the spiritual energies of the universe, carousing in the night under the majestic power of a full moon, yet never looking up…holding in our hands irreverently what is sacred…
Listen to the heartbeat…the pounding of heated tribal drum resounding over the earth announcing life…
I shed my clothing—tear open my shirt, my chest bathing in the rays of a mystic moon…I close my eyes to mans frenetic reasoning and explanations, I silence and unlearn their education, and I reject the impossibilities of the civilized…and know in my heart that there is much more…untapped…unused…forgotten. “Believe”, they chant in unison, whispering…those ancients gathered in the sacred circle forming within and beneath the aura of full moonlight…forming round the man now unprotected and stripped of the depth and levels of being walled in to the prison of textbook existence…a single man naked and dwarfed by a new world opening up around him—the openness of mountain, of redwood, of sea, of stars in the open night, the cries of the nocturnal creatures, and the mystery and fear of gods---the symphony of nature backing the growing volume of voice that now deafens the sounds of fearful men who reinvented life in their own image and turned their backs on the truthful matters of the spirit within---that which was, is, and will always be.
The power of creation---living, breathing, and moving in all things…the power of creation that lies within our will and upon our very tongue…”Believe”, the one voice of many chants even louder---and I do—and something opens within me and around me---I begin to see higher and farther then before---to see into depths hidden--- not with my senses, but with spirit rousing free from constraint and limits and I, like the moonlight shining upon me and now within me, beam true---the truth of what lies within me…what has lived within me all along and shared in the same heartbeat---lying dormant in wait of this very night…”I Believe!”, I scream under the powerful stillness of the full moon as the wind rushes down to carry my voice higher, echoing wildly on ancient canyon walls…
Cold heat showers over me in waves and shimmers violently in power within me…a medicine injected into my being that begins to travel through the spirits bloodstream from the top of my head, over my shoulders, coating my ribcage, moving through me and out to my extremities like fingers of healing…a vision of a shadow blacker than night moving over the plains, interrupting the stillness of mans sleep appears before me…I hear another’s heartbeat, strong and true, out of the shadows into the light of moon comes revelation…the head of father wolf---face to face with myself…the heartbeat I hear is my own…I look into the mirror of the spirit…medicine of the animal firing my body alive---wolf eyes speaking volumes to my spirit, wolf soul teaching me ancient wisdom with the speed of bolts of lightning, abandoned by man long ago---
I am spirit, and I am man, and I am wolf…there is a new energy coursing through me---the energy of change---traveling from man to wolf and back again, over the bridge of spirit within…I rage hot in my rite of passage, the pains of my rebirth, the first breaths heaving through new powerful lungs… possessed by the souls of those ancients crying out to be heard again…my heart now beating in unison with the tribal drums of the spirit realm heartbeat…with the thunder of the skies, and with the pounding of the surf…
I am man, and I am beast, and I am here…now…supernatural and hungry… before a world desperately, but in futility, attempting to explain me away…I will not disappear like another of your dreams you force yourself, fearful man, to wake from. I will run free on two legs and on four in this realm, over earth, over air, and over plane.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
