Tag Archives: writing

Waxing Gibbous Reflections

DSC_0087Lately, my personal vibration has been steady rising and I want my people up here with me, riding the wave of limitless inner wisdom, surfing the seas of spiritual tranquility. The moon is currently in a waxing gibbous phase, which means it’s time to fine tune the dreams and wishes you’ve sent out during the new moon. A quick note to inspire some fine tuning to your intention.

Embrace your emotions. We are trained to stifle them early on, & that’s the real war. Keep close to your inner child. That part of you that knew before anyone told them differently, the kind of life they were going to lead. Before we got programmed to follow someone else’s script, we knew our plan and purpose. No matter how crazy it seemed we knew it was meant to be. Where did it get lost? Soul retrieval is a great way to return to that source and heal. You can also get in touch with your guides or work with crystals like Lemurian quartz, Tibetan quartz, or celestite. Meditation and imagination are key to working with all your spiritual tools. Keeping in tune with your inner “mini-me” is key to self-mastery.

Your soul’s deepest desire must be acknowledged. The thing we fear most and get sensitive about. The things we are ashamed to admit we’ve always wanted to achieve. Those are our keys to living our best lives and manifesting true abundance.

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Narcos

Autosave-File vom d-lab2/3 der AgfaPhoto GmbH

Highland LA, K Fall

Narcos! Narcos! Narcos!
bend the rules to the sound of life force.
Beating hearts they do sing,
Wringing necks assembly line, ding!
The bell administers iv relief.
Drift on, and be left alone.

 

“Let us come closer…”
Closing in on a view of forever,
Mighty clear from the other side of this syringe.
“With thee this new life I do give!”

 

Administer
To the administration
All that is left of truth
“Lock it asunder!” they cry
Drift it off, in a daze…

 

From the other side of the hill-
Where the hippies dance in reverie,
Drearily ,drearily, dreaming…
Of revolution and tomorrows.
Narcos drudge along
Like zombies in the night.
Fighting the good fight,
Set up a maze.

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

the-dust-of-yesterdays-cover-createspace-copy

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.