Who is running?

Who is being pulled?

Who has it figured out, sometimes?

Who has to start over?

Who has stuck tears
and why aren’t they flowing
like a sad river of pain
into so many dry tissues?

Perhaps…. as an experiment
Let go of the internal place where the me
asks who, to an I

Just for a moment
allow a new found ease
to let go of the character
who can ask why
letting imagination and thoughts
come and go
crisp white sheets on the laundry line
in a spring breeze
don’t ask who they are
So why not give it a try
and see
that deep in this mystery
there is imagination happening
it adds something extra to everything
to the you who asks who
to the me who asks why
relaxing into being

It’s all just
charades
magic
people
illusion
In the dream..
and yet all is as it is
happening in the most grand way
playing out as theatre
as it has for centuries
this imaginary trans-generational masquerade ball

There is a dark corner where illusion ends
And the web of sticky withholding begins

It starts with a story and ends with a knife in the back or stomach
Either way your handy friend, becomes a hunter from a victim

Foolish cowardice disguised as loyalty
Honor and vengeance are brothers
Doomed to die on the battlefield of regret

The road is long
Worn boots give way to bloody feet
Siberia waits with open arms
Allowing all to enter but none to leave
Kolyma will eat your flesh and bury your bones
In the bog of labor camp 682
The excitement to tell will eat the gut
A worm in the belly that will not leave

This secret is too much to bear
The poison of which robs me of my very breath
Of this precious life I carry

Where can I hide this woeful lament this obligation of doom?
Perhaps it is a dream and it will fly away to the moonlit silent night
Leaving my heart to thaw by this spring morning dew

When I look at you
I see the world in a brighter way
The totality of togetherness is silky smooth
Easy and Dreamy

The envelope of the universe tears itself open to be in our midst
Just knowing
Just being

Walking through automatic doors
Riding invisible buses
No impediment protests our journey
Sweeping good currents
Yields into harmonious flow

We have a closeness that isn’t too close
It is a real surreal calm
We know that life can be hard
But we are not scared
Right now it is simple
Real and without illusion
Trusting, relaxing into confidence
It is what a nurturing intimate relationship should feel like

A monochrome foreign film
A European romance
A story of passion where life is beautiful, stylish and easy
With a film noir twist and a bitter sweet ending

Knowing that this may soon be over
Expectations and plans are suspended
This is the summer of love
Unabashed lust lets loose with a nighttime display of light
Yesterday I wondered if I would get too attached and feel pain?
Today I don’t care because my heart is open
I can’t be bothered to wrap it in barbed wire anymore
The barbs protect from the outside but hurt on the inside
I’m a humanitarian and philanthropist giving away my emotional wealth
If someone wants to take it
Then they must need it more than I
And I have plenty to give
So I give it away

Kissing your body slowly from head to toe
I paint and sculpt you with my hands and lips
Stopping each moment to taste your goodness
White velvet skin, sugar frosted with freckles
I sprinkle a galaxy of kisses on your body
Pink nipples discreetly request wet mouth
I see your face in erotic shadows
Your torso riding above mine in rhythm
Holding your hips, your hands grasp the wall
Dancing together in tantric ecstasy
Insides quake and explode in unison
We pleasure each other in harmonic crescendo
Dying a little death from the sensuality
Diving deep into the mattress
Heavy and wet we rest
What is left is a satisfied sleeping smile
Nestled in your curly golden locks
Eyes closed and dreaming

You are asleep in the bedroom and I am here swirling in words
Spinning and dancing images, feelings and sound
Melting in the precious embers of our glow
Getting it all down before I join you in restful sleep

Save everyone

Save everything

Destroy the illusion of separation

The veneer is thin
The one you perceive between you and the world
The veneer that you project to protect
You

It is a communion wafer suspended in space that you think you own and manipulate
It is an illusion
There is nothing there
No static impermeable super-surface or gate surrounds you
It is a mental concoction
A super hero resource of absurdity
Is not any-thing
It is energy held inside
Internal cyclical patterning
Conscious and unconscious
It is a story around a story that seemingly offers some outer protection

However
There is no protection in projection
Control is an illusion
There is no place to hide from the truth
Believing illusion consumes life energy
Believing illusion impedes receiving
Believing illusion impedes giving
Believing illusion restricts the flow of love

Seeing that imagined externalized protection projection is an illusion
Obliterates the mental energy veneer into non-dual unified spaciousness

Raven feathers trailing behind her
She moves without a movie

She looks like she could be an illusion
But that isn’t the case

She is a place where dark is light
light is dark

Sharing a mystical world of seeing
not seeing

Telling stories that should be said
but aren’t spoken

Subtle differences seem small
galaxies thin

When we share a honeyed glance
Across the Milky Way
Across the table

Slicing the unknowable into subsections
Then gluing it back together with vivid imagination

Identity, separation and the non-dual
These are the specials of the day

Laid bare to be seen by the microscope of mutual viewpoint
Connected and sustained by an inner world so small
It could fall through the pores of your skin

Sing the song of sadness with a smile
Crooked tears run backwards into souls aching well

Say goodbye to the black bird
Flying alone in the night