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Thrice.

thrice

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First Volume Of “Life and Times Of An Indigo Dreamer”, Now Available!

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Its called, “The Dust of Yesterdays” and it took me damn near two years to complete. I taught myself how to use adobe illustrator, indesign, and studied the in’s and out’s of self-publishing to pull it off. I’d say the easiest part of this whole series was writing 250+ poems on love, spirituality, life, and the unseen.

Summer of 2015, a lot changed for me and for my best friend. Back then I was certain that I was ready to settle into the life of a madly in love couple who “is different from all the rest.” We sung that mantra to the mountaintops… as “The Kybalion”says, all truths are but half.

On the other side, everything in the collective consciousness continued its rapid transformation. Everyone spoke of the raging kundalini energy within the Divine Feminine that was the emerging zeitgeist. The wild woman who can not be tamed. Maybe it was living in a suburb cut off from my art, and all the things I loved for months that triggered her arrival within me. Being trapped in an example of what the future might look like for us who are “different from the rest.” I was depressed AF. Trying to fit into the status quo of happiness and bliss. Before I even heard of divine female anything I was in a complete opposite state. Downtrodden. Cut off from personal power. Hiding out behind my ugly ass GTA V avatar wreaking havoc on my fictional Los Angeles.

As soon as we broke free and returned to the hills of Hollywood, she rang. Her piercing cry called out to the heavens and a door opened. She went in and there was a man, a project, a trip, and a lesson.

Thus this series was born, to shed light upon the unseen force, feared far to long.

“Like” My Book On CreateSpace!

Death’s Dance

My only near death experience, comes to me through my nightly dance.
In the windowless room, I invoke my guides.

In the windowless room, serpents grow wings and take flight.
Up and out
Round and about

In trance,
We dance.
We dance
& I die.

Every night
We dance,
We dance,
We dance…
& I die.
With wings grown
Body shaken asunder,
Heaven is found.

With wings flapping uncontrollably,
Body left behind,
Other dimensions are found.
Lying on the floor
We bawl deep in the womb.

With wings grown,
Are uncontrolled pains.
I’m losing limb for limb…

But we dance
& We dance.

I cry.
We grow.

 

 

Aftertaste

An aftertaste lingers…

The thought you let go,

You can still taste it.

 

In the back of the tongue,

Where sweet and bitter meet,

There lies a dark remembrance.

 

Sweet longing.

Bitter desire.

Sift and drink saliva of the past…

 

Anointing lips

While asking yourself

 

“How did this happen?”

 

An aftertaste disturbs,

You return to the moment and remember…

It was something you ate.

 

Woman & No Thing

A woman

Can do nothing

In this society

Without a puppet of a man

To speak for her.

 

A woman

Can do no thing

Without the sneers of others

At her delicacy

At her emotion

At her intuition

 

She smiles

She laughs

She looks good

And so nothing deeper can come of her.

 

A woman can do no thing in this society.

Absolutely no thing.

 

Sadomasochism

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To write is all I have

Words to fill the void

I’ve left for myself.

 

I am the best enforcer I’ve ever had.

 

Vilest forms of torture

Previously undreamt by man

 

Sulking in expectations left to never be satisfied

Forcing my eyes on images of lost pasts

Sitting in between death and pain

Running through it

Over and over again

 

There’s a dark and dreary schoolyard I’ve built in my mind,

Where the outcasts are allowed no fun

No happiness

No laughter

 

Share your toys and have them stolen

Over and over

 

Share your dolls and have their heads pulled out

Over and over

 

Share your crayons and have them all broken in two

Over and over

 

Share your lunch and have it replaced with spit

Over and over

 

Share your favorite games and lose to cheaters

Over and over

 

It feels so good,

The Sadomasochistic games

Where I’ll forever be champion.