I elevated my mind
stimulants fuelled a cathartic state
battling still contemplation
the war between the two
opened doors to my spirit’s dimensions
infiniteness
waves of continuum
I plucked a lily in a field of frequencies
which swayed like flowers in a trance
the lily caught my eye
a godly mind intuited
and then, a gardenia
reflecting on my purpose
raw,
yet pure
and I sought a hibiscus
opposites are complimentary
so contemplatives’ attract…
cathartics
that makes sense
in this quantum realm
where every step is a quantum leap
every jump,
an astronaut’s curiosities
violets abide
still I searched for you
in a field of flowers
or frequencies
waves of continuums
needing to sense your experiences
or experience your senses
is that senseless, here?
either way,
you always stand out
though finding me-
your only flaw,
how don’t you see me?
do the frequencies you exist within
blot me out?
am I too obscure?
perhaps, too much a mystery,
to your perceptions?
or is it that,
one neglects to notice the non-flower
the one who never fits
in
though it beams and beckons
like eyes resembling a lighthouse
shinning onto you?
guiding you to shore
or are you too adrift
land being too convoluted for you
your senses, a megaphone
every stress and tension amplified
the music of being, shifting from
a choir
to an orchestra
to a siren within a riot
maybe you just need quiet
I am a scrambled mesh of
treble bass and reverberation
at times, suffice it to say
maybe it’s not me
maybe you’re too spectacular
to yield in awe of
the miraculous.
are you aware of this
as a possibility within you?
I couldn’t blame you
being a marvel all of your own
how does it feel?
is the sun, just the sun to you?
a blameless and jaded star,
in your vast sky?
who am I to tell you,
that I am more than a star?
more than the sun?
what would that even look like,
let alone sound?
I let down my mind
stimulants wearing like aged clay
shaking my head
like a lion reveling its mane
and like that,
the thought of you dissipated.
but never the memory
it’s clear and registered like a
…passport
and though I can’t travel
I can fantasize…
or dream
Love
Theory of New Growth
when you have new growth
and you grow in a place outside which you first grew
then you go back to the place which you first grew
trying to find someone in a place which you outgrew
and you can not find what you grew into
because where you grew
is beyond where you were first grown
therefore you have to look outside of your comfort zone
to reap the harvest of your growth
because the places you once knew
no longer recognize you
no matter how familiar they may be, you now see them differently
so the desires you now have
can’t be found in the place where you first recognized yourself
because now you have grown into someone new
an adult
and prison did that
just as you can’t go back home and search for a new family
you can’t go back to prison to search for freedom
love don’t live there
and if it lives there, it only rents there
therefore, love don’t last there
go into a different field, a place that can bear your growth
a place to which you have not outgrown
no adult spends their free time in a play pin
manifesting a higher stream of consciousness broadens your horizons
you do not look for light nor definition in shade
so the partners you pursue have to be of an environment that compliments your growth
you have to look beyond the small peaks which you originally hailed and sprang from
make sense?
I explained this to a friend about my search to find a conscious woman
conscious in culture history spirituality and the human condition
at least having an opening inclination for broader acceptance of things not here or deeper scope of intrigue in things that are her
mindful but confident in the intuition she naturally summons at a clip higher than men
he has one, but I do not
the only woman he knows who is like that, he loves and has
that’s beautiful
and I know several, yet have Nada
that’s beautiful too, in its own way
the reason for this whole talk is because people scale the people they know, based solely on their own experience or where they came from
and to most prisoners leaving, who have bettered their selves
have to seek in the same lake which they have outgrown
and most of the people there are still as they were…maybe a little jaded
so they freed prisoner will either intrigue them
overwhelm them
or suppress himself, dumb his self down just to fit back into the place he outgrew
because being larger than life is damn near impossible
becoming larger than the life you once had is damn near crucifying
so you either remain diligent in your new identity
especially if you are incapable of having the resources to move anytime soon
or you just stow away all you learned for a rainy day when you’ll actually need it in a crowd that makes growth less miserable to possess and more normal to express
and readapt to the place you should now be king or queen over
yet by pressure to fit in, you have reduced yourself to a peasant once more
and so the cycle repeats
and this is how society polices and marginalizes itself by design
the structures hold
and growth seems so oppressive, better to blend and be dwarfed by assimilation
so opposites really attract, especially if you do not realize you are opposites, training yourself to believe you are the same
because what is life but searching for self everywhere you go
but who you are, when you deny yourself and become someone or everyone else just to fit in seamlessly without struggle
and then you date that version of self, and call it happiness and love
while deep down…well you already know where I’m going with this
no wonder so many people feel empty and so much love fails
because we have failed ourselves
by deciding to settle for less than we are
‘the mind, once stretched by a new idea, can never return to its original dimensions’- Ralph Waldo Emerson
My Mama Veered Left, but We ALL-RIGHT
I just found out…
before my mom went back to jail
she started using again
abusing to blend
the outer influences that have ruined her when
she was truant losing parental rights,
consumed by polluted solutions
diluted for illusions
even the acoustics
of broomsticks moving
couldn’t remove the doom and gloom from the room she was in
prayers for a truce in her sin
mistakes and detached love has been her truth and the rue of her kin
plagued by a traumatic history and the hue in her skin
the rooms starts to spin…
the truth which tombs her within
til her roots spruce on the bend
giving into the ruse of delusions
to get through any mood that’s she’s in
desire and coping habits to the hopeless, are like a noose to her wind
her air cut off, and this is nothing new
this is something I should’ve knew
but the news of it is
she was doing great blooming
til covid became the new nuisance
she couldn’t get any break, so how do you choose when you can’t win?
and this is what I’m used to
this is proof to,
how they debilitate spoon feed and groom you
til you’re set loose from the pen
you’re never free from prison
because prison imprisons
til you’re fatally doomed in the end
and the view is too grim
yet they’ll always have a room for you here
it’s hard, I fight shame frustration and embarrassment
but I’ma still love you mama
I learned this kinda love ain’t learned, it’s inherited
of many things, this is the favorite part of you that I’ve parroted
even through the ups and downs of life’s parodies
you deserve a break, after all you been through, it’s merited
so I’ll be going even harder, and any extra weight you pick up, I’ll help you carry it
the truth is, this is more than a physical collapse, this is mental
I know that battle is actually a war, it’s far from simple
consistence persistence resilience diligence,
what I mean is that I’ma follow-through because it’s essential
after all, experience in this side of life is the best credentials
plus I’m up on my studies,
being a successful healer to me is existential
if my empathic understanding isn’t evidential
then the proof is in the R.U.S.S. initials
because I know emotions are a Cold War like Russian missiles
so your truth won’t be concealed like tucking pistols
no matter what love comes into my life
I’ma represent you right, and not throw you to the side
saying, ‘those just my mother’s issues’
trust and believe, the day you free, I’ma come and get you
so if you fall in your own home, it’ll be your own walls that you’re running into
this is my life, I can never do it part-time
because even the future digs up archives
when you living for the love, then it’s your heart’s prime
and you can endure any kinds of hard times
let my words be a beacon for the dark side
and the dark minds
and the lost minds
and to whomever else my heart finds
because even if you veer left, take a hard right
so you know no matter where you end up, you’ll be alright
WayOfLife
I am Good
remember me
because I am good
I protect the weak
I am as kind as can be
I shelter the roamers
I counsel the lonely
truly I am good
but this nature isn’t always shone
because I have a bad rap
that people will remember more
for now
but I love you
you, as all
and you, as you
and throughout your fears
your, as all
your, as you as well
I just want your love too
fore I am truly good
and desire nothing
but good for you
Spiritual Creatures
passion has no form
preference
nor shame
it is constant heat
an overwhelming inferno
embodied in bodies
it just is
and just does
freely
without inhibition
…
and if her feminine spirit
became anamorphic
embodying a feline
she, a lioness
fully embracing leonine traits
purring
crawling on all fours to me
I wouldn’t wait another second until she arrived
my growl complimenting her sound
until a throaty roar was bellowed
as I’d become lion
and on my fours
meeting her half way
and the ground
beneath and between us
the Serengeti
where we once roamed
now a direction honed
a oneness now known
in-the jun-gle
the migh-ty jun-gle
no li-on sleeps
to-niiigghhtttt
Broken for the Broken
I don’t want to be healed
they need to be felt
I need someone to get that
and be for me,
what I cannot be for myself
besides in moments with you
because I am a beacon for them
take this burden
and bury worry
I can handle it
if you can handle me
but I’m asking too much
I rather you, offer
healing will end my art
confuse my heart
life is parts
parts of a whole
my parts are all holed
nothing I write is right
nor complete
words used wrong
sense unmade
there are holes
but in that
I find home
no more roam in one day
allow me to be my way
you will realize
I’m unbroken and unbreakable
in that I am broken
a physical state of being spoken
without words, knowing