The woman with many faces

In the darkness and light of a daydream from a distant heaven. The woman with many faces but one soul. I have looked at legends and myths. She is a gift. To live many lives and still remember some of them is her curse.

I remember she woke my kaleidoscopic mind like in the song porcelain by Moby. A conversation between the two of us. Her timelines spread across mine. Her heart and soul a beacon for mine.

Giving me a reason for life and seeing beyond the illusion of separation. She has been living all the lives I see through the collective unconscious the Holy Spirit is a girl a woman a mother a sister a friend a lover and so much more. Life would be a mistake without her music. She speaks through the crowd words of wisdom that guide me.

I have been labelled schizophrenic but I can see her spirit in all things. The way the wind moves the trees leaves she is one who guides us all. Oneness is what I have found I am her protector I love her darkness her light some may say I have lost my mind. And all the unkind things but those people are blind.

My little Empire

My dreams,my schemes,my silence, my words

scattered about

My legacy doesn’t speak doubt

You will see gold glinting in the corner of your eye

diamond tears wept

that kept you alive

because you drank from their cup

I am

You

You

are

me

This life is better

this life is enough

when you acknowledge we all have empires

we are enough…

You are like a monkey puzzle tree

You are like a monkey puzzle tree

monkeys cannot climb

they cannot agree

On a way to ascend

your angry spine.

Their branches are a conundrum a solution

cannot be found

the monkeys all make a squawking kind of sound.

The monkeys have a headache they cannot solve

we have to wait for our ideas to evolve

before they can climb this tree.

But you are a walking talking puzzle

we don’t need, our brain is no muscle

but it needs a workout from time to time

patterns form rhymes

across the pages to spine

of the book.

But monkeys cannot read and humans won’t look

where you cast aspersions we mistook

for common sense

we can’t give you up for lent

monkey puzzle tree are misspent

like our youth

can monkeys really not climb these trees?

do we even care the truth bleeds

like monkey’s well worn hands

does anyone really understand?

Cards of life

Sometimes we stick sometimes we twist
Sometimes at the flick of the wrist
We are blessed to have a good hand
and the game goes to plan
but when it doesn’t
when we can’t win life’s tricks
when the future hurts and pricks
and stabs
at our hearts
we know the power is to start each day anew
with the resolve that grew
out of our tears
and the knowledge our instincts and fears taught us
we have to trust our love, our faith
in ourselves above all
or we will hit a metaphorical wall
or a metaphysical one
In our minds
life is wonder it shines
in the dark
a spark to light our way when we our lost
don’t count the cost
be a player
and never despair
for there is always a point in a game
When it turns round
and that player has a chance
turn it around and let life dance.

The cycle

This cell becomes division
an idea a split a incision
a night and a day
Black and white
But in this division
We can see, we can envision
Identity pouring forth
The tiny flame
Of a name…

This tree becomes a seed
It moves it bleeds and breaks
a part of itself to move forward
and yet it is not how it started out
however it doesn’t lose it self to doubt
We branch out wards like this family tree

This fire becomes a spark
It lights another flame
Who could tell it from the fire
and yet it has its own desires

The human becomes a egg
Hatching catching its mothers eyes
One day it will be fully grown
Will it still feel the sting of being alone?

This ocean becomes a drop
A drop that drips from a leaf
A raindrop that settles on the ground
In the cycle of Gaia
Repeating on and on
We are not separate
We move on and on..

The golden rule

If I said life is for the living,

you’d think it was a cliche

like the things most people say

They pray hallowed be thy name almost everyday

To take the pain away

One day I am going to die

I have no control

In how that will happen

Save suicide

Maybe god in heaven lied

Maybe heaven is in each moment we grasp

In each hand we clasp

We are born into a world where we can learn.

Or we can burn effigies relentlessly

Looking for love or faith

To burn into our tiny minds

Sighing like we are swooning

Or dying a painful death

Each breath we take!

It is better to be real than fake

Each lie we make constructs a web

But it highlights everytime we bleed

Needing reassurance.

Life is for the living 

It is unforgiving

We relive our mistakes

Dreaming them out

Or screaming them out loud

and we don’t learn

Hell is in the mind also

Every time we regret or

hurt or the guilt we carry

That harries our everyday life

I don’t want despair to be my wife

Or it’s children hurt and strife

Life is for the living so be positive

Lead a fruitful life but limit the hurt you inflict on

yourself and others

Its the golden rule!