Espíritu Intuitivo

Watching their lips part venomously 
uttering black fog that blocks out light
They give precious creative energy
to things that should never matter
I should say instead: things that should never mat(erialize)ter
When on the tip of the tongue is creation
Speak and it is so
This is why listening to each other speak sometimes
makes the reason behind troubles known
Everyday I stare Death in the face
She is glorious and ravishing 
She is precious because she reminds me
to only think, speak and do things that will create light

take a look at what you did
the cosmos and marigolds are ash
and the soil is tarnished

where, now
will we sow seeds of our future
where will our Love grow?

There are lilies in my heart
that cannot touch my tongue
For if they do
they will fall back into the abyss of my being like ashes of a scorched branch
This is why I’m afraid to let out the truth
And in your silent stare
I’ve heard you raging over my silence
Wondering if my heart beats just like yours
Please do not be fooled by the illusion
I’m no magician or mystic
I am a bag of blood and flesh just like you
And sometimes this poet cannot bring the ink to white space
because the proper words seem to have gone like old friends who walked to their graves
So I offer you more of my silence
And if you will close your eyes
I’ll put your hand on my chest
So you’ll feel the infinity of my existence that transcends flesh
And in the ocean of eternity
You’ll find my Love
Your Love
Like a key
that was never lost

I love you with so much of my being that I see how limiting words are to communicate a fervent feeling dancing within oneself
Your words were small shards of glass to my eyes at times
And my words daggers dipped in venom
Yet after all emotion was done and all the clouds have receded
I have stood still and realized that I still loved you
Love knows no distance or time for I can feel your intensity in the room with me as I drink my coffee
I can feel your thoughts embrace me the way your arms used to in the middle of the night when you thought I was not there
I sit here now enjoying a serene feeling
It’s as if you are still here
Still my lover
And still my container of kisses
Why now am I feeling you so close to me?
It’s as if you have passed and your spirit hovers around me letting me know you’ll always be there
Yet, that still doesn’t satisfy the question
My conclusion then, it can only be
That you are holding me in mind just as intensely as I am holding you
We used to pick up the phone and call when we felt each other whisper from far away
Now we just sit with the Love, Be with the Love
Knowing this is all we need to know even as we are walking opposite directions on the road

Even as flowers are moved by the wind, they stand still and simply be
No imaginings for better soil or even frowning at the lack of rain
A petal is lost and yet still the flower opens itself toward the sky
Simply being nothing but a flower upon a stem
There is no fear of losing color or withering away
No second thought about being torn from their roots by the hands of a human bubbling over with love
For the flower knows its beauty and lives in it
And because of that, two lovers will be brought closer by this gift of Nature
The flower simply Is
A delicate body sprung up from Mother Gaia
Never a question in how it will blossom
Or asking why the sun and the earth love it so
The flowers enjoy colorful aliveness
But do not lament at death
Because they know it is not death at all
But simply returning to the source from which they came
A person once told me
Humans can benefit from observing nature
A tear fell from my eye one day at a lost love
at the same moment petal fell from a pink rose
I observed this and noticed
the rose maintained its beauty
I decided it was time to begin watching

nightbepeace:

I’ve decided to finally make this blog primarily for my writing.  As anyone, I am highly interested in other a multitude of other things, and I don’t want to saturate anyone’s dash with my millions of interests.  So this other one, 

http://iwasbornatmidnight.tumblr.com/

is more personal.  Feel free to follow me.  I’ve followed some of you already, you just didn’t know who the hell I was.

I’ve decided to finally make this blog primarily for my writing.  As anyone, I am highly interested in other a multitude of other things, and I don’t want to saturate anyone’s dash with my millions of interests.  So this other one, 

http://iwasbornatmidnight.tumblr.com/

is more personal.  Feel free to follow me.  I’ve followed some of you already, you just didn’t know who the hell I was.

The dance had worn our little hearts tired
But the love never stopped its happy feet

I sit here tonight intoxicated with a thought that has been with me since morning
To sit naked again in sheets with you enclosed within one another

Not making love or coming up with sweet phrases
Just the silent feel of a shared touch

This is the true language of love
A language I believe we didn’t take adequate enough time to learn

And I wonder about you creating over and over again these timeless moments of bliss with another

I used to believe many things
Beliefs that are, now, much like brown leaves under their tree

I used to believe that someday I’d stop loving you
But every now and then I relive your kisses

Feeling the blood vibrate in my veins
And nerve endings of my fingers giggle at contact

I create new memories that are manifested from our faraway mutual love
We need not begin up a new festival

Just take my hands
And let us dance a new dance

From the time we are children, we are indoctrinated with beliefs and habits that are not even our own.  We have no choice in the matter because our parents are simply teaching us what they were taught.  Raising us how they were raised.  Then we are sent off to school and told from single digit ages that we’ll someday have to go to college if we want to make something of ourselves.  We’ll have to get jobs and work to pay the bills and to be able to do the things we want to do.  But some of us, if we’re lucky, before we even reach the age for college, begin to see the circus.  You ask, What are we really working towards?  Where do the degrees truly get us?  Are people truly fulfilled working 9-5 jobs?  Why do we go to school after school after school only to go to work?  And what’s after that?  We die?  I never understood why people are so afraid to die.  It’s going to happen either way.  Death is freedom.  The body is a constriction, the mind an exquisite illusionist making us believe in the dramas we’ve written for ourselves.  What is it all for?  Just to escape death?  We don’t have to wait til death to be free.  I can stand in a crowd of people who rush around in a deep sleep, and everyone will deny this truth before they admit that they’re not happy.

Have you asked yourself, what is it all for?  What are you doing it for?  What the hell are we rushing towards anyway?

These nights breed a rapturous ardour The pillows are clouds under my flesh But the scent are thorns on a rose

Why must one bleed to touch beauty? Better yet, why must one shed blood at a withered rose?

I am a shell dragging my soul across my carpet The coffee is old and cold because insomnia keeps a daily and nightly friendship

I’ve waited all the years of my life to hear that type of poetry uttered to the ear of my heart And I let her slip away like a dream upon awakening All of the mistakes all of the faults are all mine

If you’re reading this, it probably means I’m dead by now.

I’m dead now.  Yes, the cancer beat me.

Even though we have separated and went our own ways, we are still intimately connected by our children.  They have benefited greatly from your love and, I hope, mine.  They have also benefited greatly financially from my career as an actor.  Now you know that I don’t agree on marriage, nor do I think of it as a true announcement of love between two people.  You disagree with me on this and I know this is precisely what caused our split.  My grandmother kept telling me to marry you, so know that she was rooting for you.  She never made an indictment on you for your rice casserole making her sick as you’ve always thought.  But the thing is, by “marriage” my grandmother meant “security” for you after I was gone.  She never mentioned love in the same sentence as marriage.  Only “God”, “Bible” and “Security”.  This and several other reasons are why I preferred a much freer expression of my love outside of that horrific institution.  If I were scared of any commitment at all, our lovely daughters would have never been breathing the air of Mother Earth. 

Now, as I’ve enjoyed a lucrative career from doing what I love to do, I have given all of my money over to our daughters.  It’s for them to do as they choose, and from this standpoint, their 10 and 12 year old minds point to a future that leans to the side of egalitarianism.  And much of this money is for you also.  You don’t expect me to give all to our offspring and one of the creators not get any of it also, do you?  I never hated you.  We simply had our differences.  So information to access these accounts are enclosed inside of the yellow envelope.  This is what I couldn’t understand about being married.  People made it seem as if it was the only way a man could guarantee security for the mother and the children.  You know my favorite phrase, so together now:  That’s bullshit.  You have wealth sitting right in front of you, and I never needed to put a ring on your finger for that. 

But before I end this, a word on this money.  This, as I said, is mostly for the girls.  So my hopes are that you guide them into using and spending it constructively.  Not irresponsibly.  Our girls are smart, so they understand that I’m gone from physical life, but still around.  And they’ll also understand you telling them about all I’ve left them.  So if by chance you keep this away from them, I’ll leave my blissful existence in the afterlife to assume and lowly spirit that will haunt you until you become insane.  You thought my spiritual and New Age interest was far fetched, but one thing I’ve learned to do is manipulate reality while in the physical body.  See, many things don’t have to wait until death to be learned.  I say this to you because as loving and beautiful as you are, and as great a mother as you have been, I know about you withholding money from your own family in the past that they were absolutely entitled to.  Greed does not serve you or the people who are at the other end of it.  So know I’ll be lovingly watching.  And the minute I suspect you thinking about keeping money from the children, I’ll create a Paranormal Activity movie in your own home so horrifying that you’ll shiver at the thought of me before you pick up a dime. 

Now that’s out of the way, give the girls my kisses and keep reminding them I am around.  I love you all.

This is not farewell,
it’s you just can’t see me

Liam

He sits in his daily chair which is right in front of the computer.  When I’m on Tumblr, he can see everything I scroll through on my dash.  There’s all this great writing, some puppies, nice houses and beautiful photography…and then

ASS

& 

TITTIES

Sorry Grandpa.  Women are works of art to an artist, too.

My feet didn’t touch this earth 
to tell you what God to follow
I’m here to tell you that you are God
you are the Lover
you are the Goddess
you are
the very
Savior
you
seek