Distant Rumblings

Distant rumbling beckons awareness
solar storms awaken the earth.

Gaia’s skin shifts, tectonic forces remorseless
absorbing the love of Sol, fierce and true.

Electromagnetic emanations bath the world,
emotional currents flow through.

Terran humanity oblivious to the ramifications
as the planet below does sing.

Her heart and soul scintillating brightly
her dance so pure and filled with grace.

Civilizations fall as the world heats quickly
Oceanic consciousness prepared for change.



Drama ensues.

The blues catch souls afoul of contusions
ephemeral illusions conceal goals of powerful
delusions that mislead the masses, sky-bound
impasses of glassed passages, flashes of brilliance
rippling across optical mazes, panopticon dreams,
phases of cognitive challenge, the balance pierced
by pinpointed lasers, managed by the anointed
sycophants of sin, intoning mantras of disjointed
harmonies, before the entire cycle begins again.

5 ages of Humanity.


No man knows the day or the hour, the power
concentrated in towers of babylonic intensity,
showers of blood flood the megalopoli of men,
once again the story blends into cyclic tales open
to various interpretations, truth determined by the
proof of subjective knowledge, the soothsayers
amassed upon a ridge overlooking the people,
their fingers clasped in steeples, the foundation of
the church everlasting as dying souls lay gasping
upon the shoals of an ephemeral sea, while celestial
horns ring, beckoning you and me.

Silence deepens.

A ripple across the creative void, information masked
as light, the first flight of fancy, a current in the dream
of divinity, a stream in the river of the holy trinity, beyond
the creative intent of the limited capacities of men, friends
seeking the farthest ends, the farthest shores contemplated,
invisible doors revealed to the designated purveyors of
prophetic intent, it is all meant for common knowledge.

The akashic records abolished,

The open sky the guide to a better life, astride astral rides
we fly, hearts wide open we soar, the floor dropping away,
eternity revealing her face, beyond space, beyond
the rat race, beyond the face of everything we thought
we knew, we blew past dogma, met her mother destiny,
looking forward to truly being free, traveling across
the eternal sea, far beyond, singing our own personal songs,
blending in perfect harmony, strongly, right or wrongly,
we are here to be.

Perfection. Peace.

Black Hole Soul


Dense with potentiality
Swirling paradox of polarity
Spiraling inward
Consciousness inbound
Magnetic love primeval
Remorseless compassion
Event horizon visions implode
Soundless into zero-point
Black body carbon
Reactive force electromagnetic
Stars, rainbow vacuum
Quantum-jumping between


Present resounding spiraling
Awareness polymathic
Computative intensity
Moment time-bound compounds
Necessity manifesting
Access potentiality phoenix
DNA programming transcendent
Spiraling confluences of


Unbound expansive flowering
Brilliance unfolding
Lotus-petal splendor resonant
Focused expansion scintillating
Material manifestation
Mental coalescence
Soul clarity Source-oriented
Purposed intentionality
Restorative transcendent
Aeons compound to Now
Resound reverberating
harmonic attunement
Into action.

There is a Way to Find Love

There is a way, to find, Love.

There is a way to find Love.

We face the demons in the night
We scream out loud then run in fright
Til we find the loving place
Illuminate and shine our light!

There is a way to find Love.

There’s nothing in between us
but the walls we put in place
We live our lives in search of dreams
and find ourselves in outer space.

There is a way to find Love.

There is a way to find Love.

Mystical magical wonderful beautiful we are full of light and love we’re bright our second sight shinin through dimensions pretensions of soul as psychos like pyros light fires of tires and buildings come crashing down they clown we don’t care we are flying higher and higher the fire burning planets like manic depressives we dip and dive flowin thru life livin like Ballas we follow synchronicity our paths shinin electricity climbin levels and levels ascension burnin skin yearnin we brighten and heighten third eye risin we out in space yeh the place of our birth this earth no hidin place we gone we out no doubt it’s on …

There is a way to find Love.
We face the demons in the night
We scream out loud then run in fright
Til we find the loving place
Illuminate and shine our light!

There is a way to find Love.

There’s nothing in between us
but the walls we put in place
We live our lives in search of dreams
and find ourselves in outer space.

There is a way to find Love.

There is a way to find Love.

There is a way to find Love.

There is a way to find Love.

There is a way, to find, Love.

The Shibboleth of Fears

When I die, just let my body lie, right there, on the ground. Don’t bury me and don’t burn me, let me remain where I’m found. Let my corpse fester, bloat, molder and rot, let the Insects eat me, let the Birds and Animals feast on my flesh till nothing’s left but bones and ground. Let Nature have me, let Life consume me, returning me to the essence of Creation itself. The endless process of Birth, Death and Rebirth, nothing is wasted all is gained, as I return to the Earth. A smorgasbord,  real wealth, every morsel enjoyed, creatures large and small benefit as my cells are redeployed.

Don’t waste time on grieving, or mourning my loss, my Essence will be in the Wind, my Soul is not lost. Energy cannot be destroyed only transformed, that much is true. In the gaze of a Vulture or the sheen of a Fly, my genetic material will return by and by. The smell, it will pass, the grotesquery is not for long, the efficiency of Nature is a bounteous and beautiful song. Waste not an ounce of artificial preservers, no embalming fluids at all, the Stars, Dirt and Trees deserve the bounty of my Fall.

As my eyes glaze over and my vision is dimmed, a single, solitary blade of Grass shall be my last friend. So beautiful, so wild, so perfectly formed, as Darkness closes in that sight shall keep me warm. As feelings grow distant and movement grows faint, I look forward to the clarion call of Angels, the bass bellow of the Saints. The only Church I need are the Trees grown so tall, their crowns like wondrous temples, that beckon one and all. I seek not large Funerals, not accolades or words, the gratitude of the Ants is enough, or even the Birds. To give back to life is the highest of destinies, to return to mere Dust and to float on the Breeze.

Think of me when you look to the Sky and the Stars, when you hear a faint voice on the Wind, from afar. If ever your Thoughts should in my direction turn, remember my Words and my spurning of Urns. Of Coffins and Burials, of Ceremonies and Grief, to return to the material of Life itself eases my Journey Beyond, no more do I ask, because Love is Eternal and sharing our task. To some this may sound crazy and it is to you I speak now, this is no form of vanity but a norm of the Tao. We belong to this Planet this is known beyond doubt, our bodies are Stardust coalesced sent to scout out the vagaries of Life to seek Strife to seek Pain to live Joy to live Hard to live Right from the Start.

My Blessing was to be here and perhaps yours was too, to experience the bounty of Life’s fatal Brew to drink deep to drink long to eat, dance, sing and sleep, to greet the Morn with a smile to walk long and lonely miles, to find Companionship and Hate, to have Babies and to await the arrival of Death upon our Shores, to be thankful for everything and much more. These are the most transcendent Gifts as we approach that fateful Rift between Life and what lies Beyond, those places we go when we break our last bond with all that remains here in this fateful Vale of Tears, the recognition of true Origins, that Shibboleth of Fears.

So pay heed to my words and listen closely I plead, they come from my spirit and the highest of needs. To give back to Earth Mother and to seek the Father’s ear, to look forward to Judgement with the highest of cheer. We are not our bodies these are but  vehicles indeed, that served us as needed as we followed our Creeds. When I go to rest I care not regarding flesh, but if I have a say in it I prefer to nourish weeds. This is the Greatest of Loves, this Truth I assert, to witness the flight of a Dove, to forget harms and hurts, before my eyes close forever and my flesh returns to dirt, to you I send all that I ever claimed as mine as I surrender to the Divine. My laughter echoes Heavenward as my spirit climbs aligned with the Stairway to Heaven and the Highest of High. And the last you will hear from me shall be a well-contented sigh.

The Zombies Beehive

I can’t tell the difference sometimes between a nightmare and the things I see. Things like reality TV for instance, dramas instantly created for Prime Time, prana dissipated in anger and hate, the state of the common mentality a brutality of directed fate. Courses chosen along the trajectory of pain, the stains of lame choices coloring future’s stilled voices. There’s nothing that’s sacred anymore, acres of desolate landscapes, the paucity of true amour. It’s all for the ratings and the dollars, home-girls in Atlanta hollering while housewives of Beverly Hills style the most recent outfits from Rodeo Drive, it’s a Zombie’s Beehive, the drones zoning out while the sky’s falling beyond a doubt, the Queens bloviate and bombast as their subjects deviate from the true path.

Everything is relative, nothing is absolute, good is expressed in shades of grey while everyone jumps without parachutes, the ground far below, safety a myth, giving their all for the show, then afterwards pleading the fifth. Wasn’t me becomes the refrain, I wasn’t there, what are y’all staring at, whassup, you got beef? The inevitable gasps of disbelief, the thieves of souls grasping ignorance’s scrolls, the goal seeming to be the whole nine yards of success, as defined by the quote unquote best, those who’ve passed the mandatory psychopathic test.

Don’t get kicked off the island, lie and scheme to by, the hardest heart gets the fastest start, gets the best parts, gets the highest scores on the charts. Don’t be the biggest loser, the Bachelor is the best chooser, doesn’t matter the marriages don’t last and the weight comes back fast. Class is so past generations, the veneration of knowledge not even for those who go to college and wisdom? That’s for old folks and those New Age freaks, steeped in weirdo lore and bleak outlooks of doom and gloom. The lies that they tell on TV are all people really need, because everybody lives in fantasy worlds anyway, their stays a choice, the myriad ways to escape reality the voice of disengagement, a rejoicing in perceptive banality and cultural minutia.

Voting in absentia the masses speak, the peak of consciousness raised, but minus the will to seek higher and even further afield, to spark their own inner fire, daring the void until their souls are truly healed. The Queen Bee revealed, the last honeycombs of wisdom unsealed. Perhaps it’s really going to take a total end to this world, to finally see the ripples of Divinity’s flag unfurled. An Armageddon event, a Zombie Apocalypse of pent-up need spent in an orgiastic conflagration of energy, an adiabatic catalytic of pyroclastics, fiery and chthonic, Iku’s fell tonic a breath ectoplastic. More simply imparted, hell on Earth, hell, it’s already started. Just check out the TV and take what is seen to heart.

The Circumvention of Fate

Desperation is in the air. Can you feel it?

It’s in that thousand yard stare you see sometimes, walking down the streets, gaze fixated mostly upon your own feet but looking up sometime, catching a glimpse of gazes, phases of mental gone medieval, often wild and feral, telescopic scopes above a cocked gun barrel, burning above tightened and frozen lips.

A sublime trip into the mind of the divine. You can see it in the eyes of many lost and bewildered members of the human tribe, hearts tendered upon alters of greed, frozen screaming, lost in the tribulations of their own half-unconscious but transcendent need. Almost everybody you pass is ass out, minds elsewhere, worrying about cash, about the job, about making ends meet. It’s that mad dash into the future we’re on, trying to appear strong while inside we’re quaking and outside we’re shaking, more or less, tested to the extreme, worry and regret struggling in the middle of life’s turbulent stream.

Time seems to be passing way too quickly, it’s sickly. Choices being made that we regret almost instantly, surrounded by temptation we forgo the mandatory oblations, giving in way too freely, it’s a mess. Really, it’s a damn shame, tested, like Cain, caught slaying brother Abel we swang, private parts in the wind, buffeted about by our own sins, looking around for someplace to hide, but we can’t pretend, there’s no solace from the wrath of God’s eyes, in the end.

But, we try. Finding those hidden corners in our minds, caught out, we gesticulate wildly, babbling like some kind of hideous street mime. Lies attempt to win the day as we play the game of life, causing strife, as if this is the only way to be, as if this is the only way to see through the illusions, trying not to fall, catching yet another contusion on the brain, half-lame we stumble through the mist of half-forgotten crimes, committed to do the time of life on earth, forgetting that we’re really here to experience a rebirth, of spirit, of soul, the goal almost beyond grasp, the sacred asp of the ancients the last gasp of mortality slipping from lips agape, awed by the utter immensity of Creation’s fell maw. A truly unenviable state.

And, by the way, maw means jaws for the uninitiated, open wide, our hearts pounding inside, words not accompanying intentions, our misguided actions necessitating the Circumvention of Fate, the intervention of a higher state of being, seeing beyond the mundane, the limited visual capacity of the temporarily insane. How inane is that? Doing the same thing over and over again expecting a different result, all the while pretending to be an adult.

And so it goes. And so we grow, deep in the throes of potentiality, creating reality with every breath, evolving as spirits of light with every test, committed until death.

That desperation that you see? It’s really a call to action for you and me. We are indeed our brothers and sisters keepers, street-wise sweepers of the detritus of life, we clean up our acts to move higher. Going through the dark night of the soul, hearts catching afire, becoming the phoenix of the dark morning’s dawn, harbingers of spiritual desire, becoming the angel that lost souls count on. Exemplifying the higher aspects of consciousness, forgoing the prideful excesses of pompousness. Yes, that’s the answer to it all.

The answer to our fateful and often inevitable fall.

Choose differently. Live gently, being kind to yourself. Release the pain and gain the clarity of peace, find your center and witness the turbulence and drama cease.

It is indeed possible. A choice to be made like any other, the choice to overcome any obstacle, to find the solution in the soluble, that which dissipates in nature’s flow, synchronicitous instances of life’s journey that cause us all to grow.

So there you go.

Choose wisely, and slow your roll.