Love is building the bridge between others in our lives. Putting our
arms around a loved ones broken dreams, broken spirits and telling them
it’s okay to be afraid. It’s okay to be scared. It’s okay to embrace
the pain both physical and emotional. I’m cut. I’m weak. I’m bleeding
but I’m still me.
See my scars of battle? Will you rub salt in my
wounds or will you apply the balm of Gilead all the while being
nonjudgmental and carry me to the house of the good Samaritan.
Love me in my disconnect, guilt and shame. Love me in my bi-polar faith. Love me
in all my imperfections.
All I ask is compassion in my moments of fragility and to be allowed
to cry. I love you still the same. God still loves you. God does not
require to name & claim, proclaim and affirm, blab it and grab it,
scream or yell, or beat down Heaven’s door, he only requires that you
go through while he is holding your hand.
He will hold your hand through the tempest, the fire, from this broken
shattered life into the next world. My child find rest from this veil
of tears. Well Done thou good and faithful servant.
I wish I was a combination of Cat Woman, Bat girl, & Storm, (but not Wonder Woman, she’s too wholesome, but I do need her Cloak of Invisibility) so I could fend off the slings & arrows of outrageous fortune. So I would not have to step into the House of Pain without my armor.
To defend myself against the ‘haters’ my so-called friends and peers?
Slowly day by day I realize that I am not only one of the Called but She who was Chosen.
I’m a Misfit and OutCast, one who is always ostracized because I don’t fit in… Forever the outsider, eccentric, oddball, nonconformist, rebel….
Some say I have a gift not knowing the gift comes with a steep price. Every day I pay to receive daily anointing for my calling stigmata burned more deeply into my flesh.
Sometimes to relieve the pain I wish that I could step out of this body and back into the Universe from whence I came.
Often I’ve wondered if the rejection will ever end and just when I think my footing is solid the rug is pulled out from under me, ground shakes, breaks in two and swallows me up to endure a new round of punishment for actions inherent, a lifestyle gifted to me from Powers Above.
My only acceptance comes from the Beloved and I eagerly await His return. Once more He shall revisit my tortured soul to carry me back to the gates of Paradise forever to be united with Angels and Ancestors transitioned to Glory.
Ascending the ladder of pain, sorrow and suffering; drawing ever closer to the Ancestral God.
She burnt away all the dross revealing the Phoenix.
Phoenix made her return journey across the trail of tears finally reaching the seas, where she released the Dove who made her voyage back to Africa seeking Noah’s Ark so she could free all other imprisoned souls.
Wet dreams and tight
panties waiting to be pulled off slippery pulsating thighs.
Wet dreams that need to be quenched with your solid hose. Languid still night air pierced with orgasms of a rosy hue. Vermilion sucked from natures honey fine wine. Suddenly I awake perspiration dripping
from every pore. Hoping to re- enter loves dream straddling its long solid oar.
Rapture of sensual delight.
As he raised me up off the floor his caramel fingers found the small of my back the most sensitive erotic, Spot save my delicious clit and my narrow tunnel waiting to be filled walls grazed by an 8.5
heavy duty caboose.
He ripped off my clothes and fell upon me. Suddenly I found my legs high in the air and wrapped around
his neck then his wide chest awaiting his sword night pleasure to pierce the cool night with erotic pleasure
babble.
Later that night I was rode hard and put out wet.
It all began on a hot sultry night trying to escape the swelter of the day. Peeling hot sticky clothing permeated with ripe pheromones. Nude bodies lying by the riverbank with only fingers entwined. Restless yearning for freedom to explore exquisite hidden caverns of Gods perfect work a fine wine waiting to be sipped and sucked through a fleshy straw.
I entreat the nine muses to come to me once Hypnos and Morpheus have sprinkled their poppies, my eyes close and I imbibe the potion for nightscapes. Brothers Phantasus and Ikelos open the threshold for the Nine Muses to enter in. Each Muse wears a ring with her attribute inscribed therein by Nyx Goddess of the Night.
Calliope was the muse of epic poetry.
Clio was the muse of history.
Erato was the muse of love poetry.
Euterpe was the muse of music.
Melpomene was the muse of tragedy.
Polyhymnia was the muse of sacred poetry.
Terpsichore was the muse of dance.
Thalia was the muse of comedy.
Nyx leads her daughters into my psyche causing my pen to trip lightly across the page at dawn.
Dreams have been defined as successions of images, ideas, emotions, and sensations occurring involuntarily in the mind during certain stages of sleep. Dreams are populated by subconscious thoughts and wishes. Often my dreams are a hodgepodge of things that happened during the course of the day, past childhood and my secret desires. A good night’s sleep can help clear the stress and pressure of the day. For me I often discover the answer to complex problems via dreams or receive reassurance and comfort from my parents. Sleep can bring regeneration, healing and inspiration. Insomnia is the antithesis of a peaceful night. Insomnia is the antithesis of a peaceful night.
The dream space is physical as well as mental. It can be a war or collaboration between the conscious and the unconscious mind. As a child I would sit in class in daydream of where I wanted to be other than in the boring classroom. As an adult my daydreams consist of where I want to go in life and formulating ways to get there. I would call where the mind goes in the waking hours Vision and while asleep Dreams. My Vision is the business, idea and service I’m giving birth to. Dreams are just flights of fancy my mind takes to escape unattractive realities. Vision is the mental outline, framework and building blocks of my pathway towards lifelong goals.
Can those dreams, thoughts and ideas exist after death? Specifically do the dreams of the dead influence the living. Can messages be given across time, space and eternity via one’s dreams? If on my deathbed I had a dream in my heart and a vision in my soul and I kissed that person on the mouth would my soul transfer into that person’s soul?
Are parents or grandparents able to transmit their dreams, thoughts and ideas after death via DNA. Also can children inherit or remember the memories of their parents and grandparents? Is it possible for any person to recall the memories or their ancestors? Supposition: Aunts & Uncles would be let out of the picture because they are offshoots, not a direct lineage. Or like in Kindred the possibility of being pulled back in time to assist that ancestor with some pressing problem becomes alarmingly real.
At night does my spirit travel the astral plane searching for answers, solutions, explanations’ for my physical plane? And what would happen if the silver umbilical attaching me to my body were cut? How would I reconnect to myself? Whether in the body or out of the body I know not, yet still receiving the revelation of God. My quarks and leptons become baryons synthesize into hyper-force exploding into the universe. Fermions and bosons are no longer constrained by the complexities of theories but burst into being. Spun higher and higher faster and faster developing from antimatter into mater. I become the superconductive dreamscape able to transcend all and become all.
In my mind during times of slumber my astral body goes to meet the beloved and is comforted in his arms. Is the dream only a desired illusion? Yet it feels so real, so for now I luxuriate in his touch and together we enter the dream space capsule.
It is an interesting hypothesis that memories could be extracted from another person’s mind, but dreams are not linear because the mind is a labyrinth. The laws of physics do not apply within a dream. Because there are many little rooms residing within each individuals psyche, dreams can be manipulated via brain injury or the use of sedative-hypnotics like Ambien. Portals in the mind normal closed are open causing the user to sleepwalk and sleeptalk. Hallucinations are an alter state of being that I never want to experience. It is interesting to note that Ambien is used as a treatment for persons in a catatonic state. Think “Awakenings” with actor Robin Williams only back in the 1920s the drug of use was dopamine. Many cultures have a history of taking mind altering drugs to stimulate and/or induce visions but if you can’t control the vision you might be getting more than you bargained for. Personally I want to be in control of all my visions.
If I was able to jump inside your subconscious in what landscape would I find myself? Could I understand the scenery generated by your mind or would I just be a stranger in a bizarre and frightening environment trying to escape? However my vision can resonate with your vision thereby creating a shared vision that empowers us both.
Espiritu en Fuego/A Fiery Spirit 