to die

to die, i die for you
in swirling colors red and green and blue
gold and silver shining
black stones i hurl up in the sky
pulling down the clouds
how come when loving i do not even get close to what i really feel
only sometimes there are places being touched that make me scream, impossible to go farther
impossible for me to let it be
i have to go now
i gotta go i say
what is this normal life that pulls the hardest
taking me away from
how i would like to be
I vouch for people loving wildly
shattering the sky

grasping

this standing on the edge of the cliff
this grasping

this wanting to fly
feeling your dry lips touch mine
fleetingly
my hips, that are merely hipbones
move move sway
into your total darkness
swirl swirl
my wings that are still white
still 20 feet diameter
your black feathers all around as i fight
and you stand calm
untouched by my turmoil
i drop my head and out of the corner of my eye i see the blue metallic shine
everyday i have a new plan
of what is wrong now
and what was once so right
so very right
so chocolaty syrup
what were the pure chocolate bits that your beautiful fingers got out of the baggy and placed in my mouth
was it the touch of your fingers or that raw taste
of pure glory
i get up and fly
leisurely
if only my wingtips could touch you

time will tell

This was May

And it is me
the sharp edges
the cold
desolate
my colors forlorn
there we are.

We are exactly were we want to be,
exactly!

Months later, a certain ordinary evening, a strip of light on the western horizon, just yesterday
the abundance of bones and backstrap, even flanks are glorious
knives being sharpened, that sound
If i only knew my self this intimately.
You know how big a liver is? Much larger then our large heart. Softer too.
And the toughness, so much beautiful smooth toughness in me too.

Ah and i whine i whine that certain needs no matter its abundance are not met.

I don't why so much pain over little things, why i dive into that pain and find nothing, just tears.
Waterfalls of it. Puddles, ponds, lakes full.

You know how much water a mountain holds?
 I don't, but i know it is a lot
a lot more then these few tears

Please, know my needs.

If i can't understand, maybe you can understand me.

and sunlight in big waves

Big tropical storm waves.
And how come his body carries that Californian heat, the fragrance of orange blossom in the warm air and the old dark shinny hardwood. Is that a memory i ever wrote about? Arriving in the heart of LA by train. The rose wood high backed benches at the station, are they still there? I know the light is, the light  when stepping outside, we coming all the way from Portland. And he the lover carried it all back in. And i gallop my black stallion bare back, naked in the forever bleak fields, first time ever and the rainbow reached me from all the way back east. He is so beautiful, how can a body be perfect like his?
Can you imagine being touched by glory? I wondered last night if we all don't almost die every single day. Awareness in those split seconds, creates all this light flooding in. And the mirrors reflecting it, and the magpies pick it up and carry it on. How can i breath calmly, who do i think i am? As we cross borders the love ripples on. Singing this i call the manes of  wild horses, they are back again. And the world was white and the heat where did it come from ? The dry grass, the dark nights once more again.
Just a dusting of tiny crystals in the sand.

i have been thinking again

lol, i know

Still

It occurred to me that we are truly Nothing, the same as we are All.

It is just a thought.

A friend of my raised the idea this morning.

Wednesday i was in wilderness water land fallen trees thick willows, i did find one dried up black currant, black currants the goal of my trip. Walking on floating moss and sinking in too deep at the end just before a raise in the land.

I disagree a lot with people. I  can only hope they are okay with that, that they somehow circle elsewhere, where they know; agree disagree all good, all proof that we are alive.

The horses are here now, scared and curious at the same time, they.

Earlier  evening sun flooded over the white landscape.

This nothing some people talk about, that we are thoughts appear from emptiness.

Born as a human i am, i was saying i did come close to the feeling of dying a few times....didn't you? didn't we all?

When are we dead we asked this morning, and will something remain? for 4 minutes, for 5o days, longer yet, and after that?

The thought i had was this, yes , i am me,here in this body, could it be that i forever am a  different being, according to what this body gathers around it self, in it self. The spinning chakra changing, my energy for ever in motion

An older idea of mine is ( i don't think that these are just my ideas, they have been thought before i am sure, i just don't know by whom)
; That  our energy is the way we vibrate, by that we attract what is the same ( i know this  is science, Christopher you know what i mean yes?) And in the recognition we vibrate differently again.

Yet we are all totally One and the same

I some how get it, i feel it in my core, just can't explain it clearly yet, maybe you can, as you and i we vibrate on the same plane, i ith my stuff you with yours,let yours have the knowledge how to put words to it.

Now that 'll be cool :)

Galloping horses, cats skidding over the wood floor, a white bird flew by, a little hawk maybe

The upbeat energy of yesterday

is gone. After sleeping my regular hours last night, after doing my regular, i am in love with life, doings. After doing some of my chores in tune with oneness with a certain pleasure, i  laid down in sun light and fell asleep. I do not like that, i hate that, i have to shake my self out of that, i do not want to be there.
Fear of sleeping my life away?  Is it loneliness? is it deep down low self-esteem? Yes, that most of all.
The world so glorious around me. This early winter, which is only winter because the trees have dropped their leaves. The bleak dark landscape is fantastical topped by white, black striped, mountains. My stalker found a blue flower, i the one being stalked found a tiny  yellow one, a crowfoot. Both poisonous i suspect.

The cat says hi, the fox turned wolf, the horses wild again.

I can postpone my feelings forever.  If i  want.
It is hard no-path because to be on a path like that , one has to be very smart, have a lot of knowledge. And i know that no matter how smart, how knowledgeable, even the genius doesn't know it all, even whatever she/he is a genius at, still falling short.

My ear starts to popping. What is that all about? I did poke my eye this morning. It hurt a lot.

My body starts gaining energy it wants to do chores again, move with purpose, get it all clean.
Up and down, in and out. There is a longing now to throw my self into that uncomfortable feeling that i don't know.
Oh my god oh my dear god. You are so beautiful.! I mean that  lover of mine, i mean that wild horse snorting at me, i mean that uneasiness that is most horrible because i can't grasp it. Not painful enough for piercing screams, oh dear god, why am i so blessed that i have no tears.
Again i can live with me, me not being good enough for me and all that.
The joke of it all, now; late sun in bright patches on the dark mountain sides
I'll vacuum clean.

a memory of hot sun rays penetrating my skin.

No-path is quite lovely indeed, it means i can start summer today.
A fox sat on the steps.  An almost surreal experience to have a fox for pet for one day. I do not like a fox' face, i do like it's tail. You think i can write a book this way?
The question really; do i think i can write a book this way? I like to write a book this way. As i will always long to keep driving when driving 1000 miles, or keep walking when walking 10 hours. Should 1000 miles mean something , because now it is followed by 10 hours, in the story when properly written this way this idea should come in threes and  now there should  be only 1 me.
If i only could come up with more then one me. You might know my desire for wanting to write fiction. Why is it darker in the open field than it is in the thick spruce forest. I know why;  when you would cut open all these  trees, the wood is almost white, pure light and  golden sap. I have four horses tonight, and that fox for a pet. An old dark stallion, and a family of 3, the mare, her foal and a male. And then the thought of my lover drifts into my mind, his mane flowing, the most beautiful of shiny black hair, so soft, tie me up in these locks, let me drown in your sweat, from all your hard work just for me.  And the waves of the sea crashing on the beach, erratic, not so calm tonight, almost building up to some kind of  tragedy, or exhilaration! surprisingly.
So lovely this no-path, the wind rattles the chimes, and there is no story, no beginning, no end, no suspense, how lovely, how lovely, to be all soft and laying in the warm sand on this first day of summer. You, there is only you i can think of.