My ancestral wisdom is tangible in my sunburnt skin, tasted on my compassionate tongue, washed in glorious joy, baptized in horrific sorrow. I am spirit ever expanding, heated with a desire to be loved, buried in the beaches of hourglass sands using a cracked red plastic bucket and a too small yellow shovel. I’m thirsty for knowledge, recumbent in peace. I am decayed by grief with only a mildly offensive odor. I have rebuilt myself, my life, my dreams with non-stock aftermarket replacement parts out of every past me I’ve ever been.
Tag Archives: growth
#2699
Darkness when I close my eyes. Pinpoints of light flare and fade against the backs of my eyelids like constellations. I imagine myself walking along …
#2699
“But our past selves are a kind of ancestor too, I realize.”
I’ve packed up my old selves.
Some are in cardboard boxes
Not neatly arranged, but haphazard
Strewn about through my ages.
Some are neatly painted wooden heart-shaped chests.
There are broken pieces of sharp wood and rusty nails scattered about
If you peek inside the ones with the missing pieces;
Lids askew,
You’d see a lot of damage on the remnants of me in those
But if you put on the complimentary rose-colored heart-shaped glasses
You’ll know my intentions were true, even if theirs were not.
Some are in disco 🪩 balls sending spectrums of reflection outward
Loud, frantic movements, jutting hips and ruby painted lips 👄
But who I’ve become is more than those but still the sum
Healing Hugs
I hugged shame
I loved disgrace
I encouraged peace
To the weeping face
I heard confession
I felt mercy
I held his hand
Told him he’s worthy
Removed the prison
Of spoken word
Showed him value
By actions served
He sobbed for relief
From a god he doubted
Regret his badge
His sight; sin clouded
Visible pain
ached his soul
But his words dictated
Desperate control
Will he surrender?
Forgive his heart?
Remember his humanity,
That is tearing him apart?
I can’t fix him
Or make things better,
Just let him feel loved
Releasing the debtor
Grown

I have lived in darkness
Reveled in its muck
Too lost to seek out beauty
Too broken to give a fuck
I have succumbed to anger
At the injustice of it all
I’ve witnessed deadmen falter
I’ve heeded hateful calls.
I have chewed away the chains
Of violent neglectful abuses
I have blamed myself and blamed the stars
I have justified it with childish excuses
I’ve rejected ancestral wisdom
To bleed out my unique path
I’ve run. I’ve crawled. I’ve slithered
I’ve ground myself to ash
I’ve built myself a castle
With every grain of sand
I’ve flown through vicious storms
Without a personal command
I’ve crashed and burned a thousand times
Roasted marshmallows on bridges I’ve burned
I’ve picked myself up and dusted me off
Each scar a battle-wound earned
I’ve cavorted with sinners and prostitutes
I’ve imbibed heavily in the drink
I’ve witnessed senseless violence
And still refused to sink
Because that darkness cannot win
It isn’t who I’ve become
It may be where I once have dwelled
But I will never revisit or succumb
The Heir
You were a human being
With a life as precious as my own
But, I’m alive and you are not
To me a path was shown
I’ve inherited your voices
I’m heir to your bright beacon
I will not turn away
My resolve will never weaken
I spend my inheritance freely
With loud pride from your source
I magnify it ideally
Your oppression no longer enforced
The lynching tree will bear no fruit
The crucifixion of branches
Will decay, not take root
It’s time to play with matches
Altar Building
Holy light ripples from one prayer to the next
Candle to candle
Continuous Hope lit liberally
From one heart to another
A sustainable support
To ease burdens
To celebrate joys
To guide one another
With wisdom and reverence
A catalyst towards Universal Love
Progress towards Justice
A beacon towards personal truth
A stable trust in sacred communion
Of torchbearing faith outwardly
Reflection of our own hearts
Rising like the morning mist in a meadow
Liberation TW
What you see before you
are the skin and clothes of the living
and my dead.
A result of generations of love
or hate
or boredom on a Tuesday night
and a potluck of chromosomes
The gene pool of my ancestors
drying up in my shallow end
Distilled into hereditary faults
that I forgive them for because they resulted in me.
I observe through my mother’s eyes
They show me that inaction causes stagnation
That stagnation causes resentment
That resentment causes a paralyzing fear
THAT fear festered rudely in my cradle
visited by vacationing cockroaches from upstairs
Unlike my one-eyed father, blindness is not mine.
My eyes are opened
when my mother reads me lies from a book of fairy tales
because I know that imaginary monsters aren’t real
That the real monsters look like people
they tend not to hide under my bed
instead, they sneak into my bed
a candy-colored catastrophic cruelty
Thieving my innocence,
Shackling me in guilt and shame
reinforcing that there is nowhere to hide
No closet is deep enough,
no blanket is tightly wrapped enough
No pillow will help my breath
Swaddling complacency
Nurturing tar black secrets
Forbidden by death
To verbally vomit
My truth abandoned in cobwebs
Chronological milestones
Amalgamated rubble
Duct taped together
Glued with lies, rejection,
Abandonment, and
A visceral faith that I was the broken one.
denunciation was not implanted
on those who blighted me.
Conversely, desperately
I believed.
I once had the courage to tell a student teacher
When I was 9 years old that I didn’t want to be a girl
I didn’t want to feel the way I was feeling anymore
I wanted to have the power of being something else
Because even then I knew that what I was,
WHO I was
Wasn’t like the other kids.
I had no lighthouse to guide my loose sailing
I had no anchor to throw over the side
To halt the rocking, storm-battered ship
That I’d been given to captain with no skills.
That teacher gently corrected me
to crash on the rocks instead
There was no safe harbor in which to moor
But…
There was something inside of me
A luminosity that crusaded for freedom
A light so obscured to me
by external destruction that I was blind to it
But I could feel it, warm in the darkness.
Growing exponentially with each fear abated
With each discovery excavated from shame
With each box opened, musty and dusty
The contents returned to owners
Who gave me their rejected anger,
shame and guilt disintegrated with antique fragility
I piled them up in the middle of the room
And I burned every bit of that judgement.
The fire rampaged uncontrolled
Scorching anyone who stood too close
Its flames reached unprecedented heights
With a destruction as violent as my life
Every step a new fire ignited
Every truth a testament
Every act defiant
No obstacle an impediment.
My raised fist declared my power
My resurrection burst forth from within
I am no longer defined by what was taken from me
But by what I bring with me to this world
What I create, nurture, give and receive
Is a reflection of that glorious light
I was destined to be.
Liminality
I am, but I’m not.
I’ve evolved from the broken baby-steps
No more a child but rather child-like
in wonder and awe which astounds my senses
in a warm bath of spiritual baptism
that cleanses recklessness from my history
within acts of love, compassion, and kindness.
A comprehension of seeing the unseen
breathing in unison in emotional repose
Setting down the burdens haunted
at the threshold of forgiveness
where retribution crumbles bitterly
into the dust from which it was born
A hobby interest
I was chatting with my friend Professor Pudgytums about things we were doing in our lives. I was creating art, traveling, and working. He was working, traveling, and picking up new hobbies.
He has done fencing, trapeze, racquetball, and a variety of other interesting activities. His latest interest is book binding. He was interested enough to share some of what he was learning.
I sent him two books I have in storage and requested he practice on them. He didn’t feel confident enough to agree, but I sent them just in case.
Then I thought about it. I have an entire library of books primarily on death and dying. I have others, but I want to learn more about a topic I’m interested in like him.
To hold a book, yes I also have a Kindle, is to feel the heft of the words, the thoughts, the desires, the emotions, and entire imagination pinned down in time by someone who didn’t give up. It’s almost holy in a way.
Wait. I have two books that I sent to someone else. Why the farts couldn’t I do that for myself? What do I need to know to do this? I asked the oracle (YouTube).
It’s involved and takes skills that are a challenge. Is it something that I can figure out and learn? I think so.
The writing for one of the books is complete and the art is being created. The second book is complete and ready to go other than formatting. Yes, I’m really going to try it. I have a sneaking suspicion I’m going to love it.
May peace be with you wherever you are or go. You are loved!
Day Thirty-Seven, 🎶Borderline(s)



I’m so tired but holy crap! Fantastic!


