“So I stare into the soul of my greatest fears as they come for me in the night, in the in-between, and what I find is my broken and fragmented self-staring back at me. It leads to the complete realisation that it was always me tormenting myself and others again and again.

I open myself in the face this total annihilation, to being burned to the ground, and in doing so my false self, the scared self, the ego, is burned and freed from its prison.

My feet touch mossy tops above the flow.
Abundance of misty moments,
how do I trust?
Discernment turns unseen stones
into a visible course.
Landing on an edgy surface, breath pauses.
I see bigger, smoother stones
but this is about confidence
and allowing the best match for me.
I play a slip and slide game of opportunities.

Set sights
to see where you are.
Dead reckoning, its all maps and bearings.
Triangulation into a new land,
the compass points to schisms.
The needle wavers about in a course correct,
love is cautious.

Ground, release the tipping points
of my own dark programming.
Patterns jiggle in this game changer,
Breathe and be confident flow will
get me there.

Me, a collection on thoughts
and discrete culture packets.
Accepted or not
by those who do not think
much about the
status quo of ones in power.
Those behind the curtain,
they are made out of dust
same as me.

Me, collects observations
of psycho leaders who choose
dark paths. They lead to our oppression.
Historically it is always mimema
and mesmerizing drama.
Events and plans imitated
again and again.
Can’t give them respect,
not me.

I am so thankful for this day
on earth to experience life.
I just want to live.
I desire inner peace, inner balance
and time to love my friends and family.
Sure, dark thoughts come and go.
Those fears, they do creep up
don’t they?
But I change my thoughts because
there is a bigger picture in all of this.
I am a player.
Spirit touches us in the imagination. While playing
and dreaming, we manifest all our
creative thoughts.
So, I change my life by changing thoughts

This is the time,
light rises to such a level,
dark cobwebs are left behind.
No worries, dark mounds of fear
are just clutter to me.
I sweep carefully though because
some souls want to come along,
and others don’t.

Using broad strokes around market stalls,
behind the scene happenings
are a mess.
It’s a heap of shiny foil, sequins and glitter.
Hopeful, I sweep leaving a path of knowingness
that there’s more to life, so be grateful.

There is a structure
Built with words, thoughts, emotions, needs, perceptions
It has many rooms and many views
It has many colors, many coverings
It is very organized, very planned
Nothing comes in or goes out without the highest scrutiny
Security is top notch
Spontaneity does not live here
Passion is stomped out
Here love is not believed
Here love won't be received

Protection
None can come in
None can see in
Small and tight
Balled and out of sight

Not really home cause
we don’t live there no more.
A lone storage unit protects our stuff
somewhere on a highway
resurfaced with potentials.

Calm before the storm,
dust devils start to roll.
Making order out of chaos,
emotions tumble inside my head.

The key is rusty.
Our things are a past collection,
no longer our story.
Can’t remember what’s in the boxes,
Maybe there’s forgiveness
taped tightly inside.

Caged by shadow bars
of freedom loss.
The matrix lurks
just outside my perception.
It is the illusion I live within.
Working for things that do not matter,
Generates food for the matrix.
I perch on my swing
breathing poison mist.
A canary
behind bars
guarded by my own mind.
An effective jailor, it is programmed
by unseen controllers.
Wanting to be part of the flock,
I don’t dare to ruffle a feather.
The shadows approve.

Hello, Hello, Hello (based on Kyron’s Innate Body and Britney Spears singing Telephone with Lady Ga GA lyrics)

Hello hello hello. . . you are breakin’ up on me.
Static on the line is kinda of hard you see, see.
You’ve been holding for such a long, long time.
That I sorta of hear you is a really good sign, sign.

Hello hello hello. . . . I’m free choicing this call, call.
Now the phone is ringing, ringing off the wall, wall.

Hey, Openhanders:

In a time gone by,
we played under first rain drops and
dashed in between. Watched them steam
on hot concrete and cool into dark wetness.
Worms emerged on sideways, dirt turned to mud
squishing between toes.
Completely drenched, we swam standing up.
Thundering dark clouds pounded
until lightning pushed us inside the house.