Stripping away the rose colored glasses of denial concerning my reality. Getting in touch with truth. Reaching out to others in empathy concerning their reality and their walk to truth.

Saturday, June 7, 2008

Reason to Play

When you know what you know, and that you know it… do you share it?
It’s easier when I prepare myself for adverse reactions. It might be more difficult when someone wants to “praise” my being; I am just not that important today. There should be many who can accomplish what I do. What do I do? I write. Simple, nothing requiring even a high school certificate. Why? Because my fist love are the children who ask questions. Show me a child that asks a question and I will show you a brave soul; one who has not been brain-washed into thinking that all answers have been received. One who has not been so threatened that she’ll cry or be silenced by force; and yet it is her very silence at times, that conveys her anticipation of your answer. Does this child want truth no matter what the cost?

In the U.S. of America our children know we lie to them. Their little cell phones text “the real” answer in seconds and we are convicted of withholding vital information. Never mind that the text message was also a lie… they received an answer and that was their goal. Children’s needs are really more simplistic; various adults have told them or introduced them to “multiple-guess” solutions. My personal fave: “multiple purchase” choice; forget they do not have the power to buy it all… it’s enough that someone says, “You can have it all. We call it “A secret.”

Note: Speaking of this law of attraction issue: do you think its okay… that if you want all of the children in the world at your disposal, then you should dream them into your existence and hold them hostage as they arrive? Let’s call it “the pedophile farm.” Okay so you work hard visualizing swimming pools, swing sets, slip and slide, and all THAT fun you plan for the children. Don’t forget the nice big house on the ranch-land with horses out the ying-yang.

Note: Let’s look at the flipside: they’re you’re kids and you’ve raised them to be pure and loving. Someone made a prank call and said they were attacked and instead of the authorities (not the local boyz and there’s a reason somewhere behind it) sent the “upper authorities” (DC’s finest agents of order and mayhem), to take the kids… not the accused, out of the home. (Excuse me a second here… I’ve got a text message………………. oh my niece… just wanting to ask if this was “normal” procedure… no but then again… welcome to 2008!)

My niece says she doesn’t want to go to church anymore. All the kids would be in one place and the “bad guys” could scoop them up and take them away. She has just called the moral agents of the U.S. of A bad guys; and she’s adamant. And though I see both sides I’m glad she’s questioning this behavior. I’ve suggested a family contingency plan to counter future anomalies, where possible. As the old green witch in “the Wizard of Oz” stated, “these things must be handled delicately…you see?” referring to the tazer power of the red shoes, now worn by Dorothy! Get rid of the power, capture the child.

I hate to think “Elitist,” because truly that could cover something more important than rich persons using the lives of others to enhance their own existence. It’s a rabbit hole without visible end to many of us. And yet the meek shall inherit the earth. If you have a meek meter, I would be very interested to know who falls into that group. Additionally because one becomes rich… is that justification for exclusion to inherit? We are so not over ourselves and petty issues we push by enacting an overkill of inappropriate policies.

Much like the wordiness of this article; I speak and speak, bang da board, and wonder if I’m only reciting my lot. Do I still feel it? Do I end another day asking… is this not the brightest sunset I’ve seen all year? But where is that dark band coming from; the one at the bottom edge of every dawn and plays all day.

Friday, June 6, 2008


Plethora! I love the word and the way it rolls off the tongue. Plethora.
I love the way it vaguely describes my mood when I travel.
Everything must go: my clothes, my shoes, my, under hirelings (ha), my jewels, my hair ribbons, my perfume, my soaps, my political satire, my political playmates, my political enemies, and my very important documents. Strictly plethora.

If only I could learn to pare down and take less, but why? There's no harm in moving one's entire possessions with one's faculties trailing in the breeze. Plethora!

Lots of stories, mega poems, sonnets, haiku for you, and blog spots for me. Articles of faith, articles to anger, remind them of the danger, nailing it like a stranger, after lying in a manger, and did I mention jokes?

Lots of insider tips to make you money, make one funny, be all that you can be... that's me... a wandering spirit, looking for passion that's over when the night is. Plethora.

My final leg of journey takes me across the seas, and I languish on beaches with lots of toy buckets and shovels; lots of very small people, charming individuals, always smiling, mostly giggling until the air ships approach. Running little people finding bigger people who place them in cages and send them off. I offer my plethora but they'll have none of it. Plethora?

I walked into the water watching as the gun ships and little people left. All around me adults are moaning and groaning in horror. One by one the little people are thrown from the air ships. There is no way to get to them in time to keep them from drowning. Who is the ghastly beast that takes them yet doesn't use them. They would have offered many years in servitude. Just as well I suppose and I stayed down in the water. Generous waves kept me down and I stripped off my clothes, my hair ribbon, my under hirelings, and my jewels: I will be their nanny under the sea. That's why I came. That's how I'll go... with my things. Plethora.

Wednesday, June 4, 2008

Zee Blogger

One time I found zee blogger
He throw me to the ground
“you must write some fancy words
Or you must leave this town”

I write a simple poem
Mine tail is on the line
But he don like my poem
And tell me it don rhyme.

He wanta thing that really speaks
And tells the world some news
He want all that and he don wanta
Buy me fancy shoes?

I walk a lot in city streets
My feets they hurt so bad
I never gonna write for him
He gonna be so sad.

Today he come for writing
The one I have is sweet
It talk about the homeless life
And how this guys a geek.

He loves the thing I wrote
He’ll add it to his blog
Zee only other copy
got eaten by my dog.

Tuesday, June 3, 2008

The Sound of Surf

The sound of surf
And rolling sea;
The sigh of you,
The breath of me…

The lunging aches
Start deep inside;
My love yet quakes,
I slip and slide…

Fingers play in tingling foam,
Caressing every naked part;
To a world as yet unknown,
I’ve come to share my heart…

I give you, I give you, I give you my breath.
You give me, you give me, you give me your sea;
I give up, I give up, I give up in death,
You take me, you take me, you take me, I’m free.

The sound of surf
And rolling sea;
My love has come,
And taken me.

The lunging aches are fully gone
I have to pain at all;
Your sighs become a wondrous song,
My breath becomes your rale.
(Photo: unknown)

Monday, June 2, 2008

Walking Alone

It's good to get out on my own, and just contemplate the things that comprise my life and lifestyle. Am I happy? Is there a problem that needs love applied to dissolve it? Because for me, love becomes the basic answer to unblock my seeing a solution, no matter what the issue is.

I was surprised to learn that the more I hated a problem, the bigger it got. The more anger I felt the darker the clothes I wore. Don't ask why, maybe I felt like I was headed down a rabbit hole and wanted to stay hidden... from what... rabbits?

Change is not an easy thing, for everything, that comes my way. Sometimes I can lick a problem like licking a stamp and the rest of the week is peaceful and calm. But along comes that "blue moon" and I'm standing on the volcanic threshold I call my brain... and I don't like my attitude. Maybe it's time for a decision so I take a walk.

Neither rain, sleet, snow, or hail, stops me; I must take the walk. My mind begins to work those eyes and I look around and see how other people are living. Mrs. H is working late again; bless her heart she's at it every day. L.K. is mowing the lawn for the second time this week; wonder if she's addicted to grass smell? Mr. J. is staring out the picture window and so are his two dogs and three cats. One of his dogs has to be put to sleep this month; eighty years old with arthritis, poor dog... poor Mr. J.

I gain a bit more perspective on how small my world can be when I'm willing to acknowledge their small worlds... and get out of my attitude and open my arms to others. And sometimes I make this the hardest thing to do. I want to be miserable and cry and whine and have my moment of pity and then berate myself for being self-centered. And when my childish tantrum is done, I'm halfway home. Literally my walk is almost over.

With Fibromyalgia I get these major rushes of adrenaline going. If affects me cognitively... in short, I lose my linear perspective and "go straight to plaid." I'm what's known as a "pop-corn" brain, my thinking is often sporadic... and jumps around a bit. I fear I need an editor! I mention this because for me it is important to slow the rushes first and the walking gives me relief... and I'm all about relief.

The picture with this article is one of the most soothing photos to date. My clothes match the background and I blend in. That's where I want to be at the end of every walk. I want to blend in, be calm, be alert, but finesse it. Nine out of ten times the answer hits me before I hit the door. It just works for me.

But what about that tenth out of ten times? That's when I stop and talk to all of my neighbors along the way. I ask my higher power to let one of them share something that would help me. I don't come out and ask them about my problem; I simply listen to them talk about their day to day living. You'd be surprised how many times I've received the answer in this manner.

Prayer, meditation, exercise, sun or moon watching... these things work well... but there is nothing like a spirit-filled human touch on my life. It envelopes me, encourages me, and causes me to want to reciprocate in kind. But I'm not talking about the soul-mate or the lover; I'm suggesting you use your own potential and energy to think for yourself. Allow others to enter your thinking space, but bottom line baby, take the walk! Love them and be grateful that they have ideas to share, but the walk is for your benefit... to hear your thoughts, to hear your dreams, to put those dreams in front of you just as a projector would ... and see them... really see them. Love them. Love walking alone.