THE ANATOMY OF MISSING YOU

the-magic-carpet-apollinari-mikhailovich-vasnetsov

The Magic Carpet Ride ~Apollinari Mikhailovich Vasnetsov

“ . . . I’ll wait for you . . . Sleight of hand and twist of fate . . . I can’t live with or without you . . . .”  ~ U2

Where is the place inside me that is the Source of life?

When I pause to notice this space, I sense Mystery, Freedom, Beauty.

Then I see you.

How long have you been here?

Are you part of the Divine who dwells here?

Are you a component of my Freedom?

Or is Freedom not wanting or needing any person?

 

I know I pray to be Free with or without you.

To love you cool.

I also pray to grasp your hands,

Touch your face,

Kiss your back. . . .

 

Advertisements

Welcome the lion . . .

roaring lion
online art — Thank you anonymous artist.

Like a roaring lion your adversary the devil prowls around, looking for someone to devour.” ~ I Peter 5:8b

Welcome the lion on your path.” ~ Mooji

When one comes face to face with a lion, you melt away.

At that moment you have no past,

no plans,

no expectations,

no titles,

no future.

You are instantly stripped

of the superfluous —

Stripped to nothing

but your essential, authentic

Self.

We all have those moments in life

when we face a lion on our path.

Welcome those moments —

To encounter

one glimmering momentary insight

into One’s Eternal Self.

The Eternally Lucid Adulteress

angry Indian goddess
Kali ~ internet art

Please.

Do not tell me your family is my family.

Your family is not my family.

They are her family.

I have no family.

 

 

Please.

Do not tell me your family loves me.

They fear me.

When they saw the care between us,

they could not marry you off fast enough.

“Aha. We will be rid of that powerful, influential, golden devil.

We will not lose our control over this useful, servant son.”

She has the love of your family.

I have no love from your family.

 

Please.

Do not tell me your house is my house.

It is her house.

You are building that room with the arched window for her.

That room is not for me.

I will never see it.

I will never sleep in it.

I have no room.

I have no house.

 

Please.

When you look at your first newborn daughter,

you will know her name is Rajjean.

Without Rajjean, you would not have been eligible to marry.

Without Rajjean, you would have had no life.

But she now owns Rajjean.

I have no Rajjean.

 

Please.

Be rid of Rajjean?

I am etched in your soul.

I am the shame and salvation

of you and your family.

 

Please.

I do not have their naivety.

I do not have their fear.

 

NOT POLITE AND NOT SURPRISING NOTE TO THE GROOM AND BRIDE (but mostly to the Groom)

agonizing wolf
online howling wolf tattoo

On your wedding day she will appear before you like a vision —

bedecked in colors, adorned in jewels, chains and piercings.

. . . . Bright virgin . . .young stranger flower.

No one will be able to take their eyes off her.

You will be intoxicated by your weariness, your horniness,

your ownership of her.

She will be timid.

You will not be timid.

 

Your friends will revere you like a home-returning warrior

after his conquest.  You will seed many babies into your

chaotic, over-populated, hungry nation

with its holy history.

Sacred people will stand near you during the ceremony

(men, of course) extracting meaningless promises for a contract

with sole purpose to breed and please

the obtuse, old and obsolete in attendance.

 

You might love her at first sight.

She will love you at first sight.

But the festivities will be distant, empty-eyed —

the dances heavy-footed burdens

for the sake of enchanting Home land and its survival.

 

Then will come the time for the climatic conquest,

when you can remove her heavy coverings and

she will shed her jewels one by one — for you.

Her skin will be amber silk, her breasts will be twins,

her vagina will be tight, tight, tight.

You will fuck, fuck, fuck her until she begs for mercy.

(There is nothing quite so enticing as fucking a total stranger.)

She will weep and bleed for you.

And you will be in love.

 

You won’t notice or remember the old bitch

sitting on her haunches in the corner of the room —

howling and snapping at the universe with slicing cries. . . .

. . . . Without tears.

She will be there through the entire ceremony and

eternal nights to follow — moaning,

cursing her whiteness,

cursing her agedness,

vomiting up bloodied pieces of her shredded heart,

vomiting up her own bones — one at a time.

Loss I and Loss II

Loss 2
Photo ~ my own

LOSS I

In July 2017 I had a glimpse of what it is

to love the Divine above all else.

Seems to be the by-product of letting go voluntarily —

then having even more ripped from you.

There comes a point when you have nothing remaining

except a shred of Hope.

That is enough.

 

love B 2
Photo ~ my own

LOSS II

 

I know a man who lost his lifetime of work and wages

to the greed of one person and a system without a whisper of humanity.

Because of this,

within three years he lost his health.

Because of this,

he lost his balance, body strength, energy, vitality

and clear cognitive skills.

(His wife tells him, he has not lost his looks.)

Because of this,

he gradually became unusable to ones who looked upon him

as an object to be used.

Because of this,

near and extended family and friends

fell away one by one.

He is rarely paid much attention.

What he does not lose

is his serene detachment from his chattering ego —

his Zen-like one liner philosophy and

faith in the Joy of living.

Because of this,

he does not lose me —

his first love and second wife.

in conclusion
Photo ~ my own

Winds

woman and taz
online art

I am in the grasp of the Divine Taz,

This has been transpiring relentlessly for many months.

Sometimes the whirlwind is more than I think I can bear.

So I hold on for all I am worth —

which seems to be quite a lot —

and gasp at the swirling, breath-giving scape

from above, below, within.

I have sometimes felt unsafe, but not one scratch.

Many helpers whirl with me.

What better passion than to reel

tumult, reel

in the company and design of Holy Taz.

 

 

 

 

 

.

The Seer

goddess
online art

This day/this night,

 

I was anticipating

Being part of your party.

You were elusive.

I was the bitch begging

For the last bite

In the sidelines

At your secret table.

It was an aha

Celebration.

And my problem.

WRESTLING WITH MY DEMON

Go for him.

Jump into love

For that perfect, forbidden, unattainable, wizard of an inappropriate man.

Be warned.

He haunts.

He shapeshifts between your daytime and nighttime life,

Ecstasy just within/beyond reach.

You will glimpse him out of the corner of your vision.

When you do catch full sight of him for one intake of breath,

You will see that shadowy young woman in the wings — gazing his way.

He makes love to you, but does not look into your eyes.

When he is in the throes of passion, the lover he someday hopes to have,

is dancing in the sheets with you — vivid and supple.

Are you woman enough to bear seeing his face in every face?

Can you conclude your days knowing he is ashamed of his love for you?

Knowing  you will long for him beyond always?

Realizing he gives new definition to love and spoils paltry affection forever?

Sure.

Go for him.

Then observe the effect of how you affect him.