Artifacts

Artifacts from a broken self
Appear
From time to time,
And remind
How fragile are each moment
And the mind

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On Rebirth

I can see my healing now,
In my words…

Before, I had grasped widely
for hold of sanity,
My mind spun,
Outlining all the abstracts
Seeing the metaphysics of everything
Until, like the universe
I exploded
In a big bang of psychosis

Then slowly
Though Not understanding the why
I began to pick up the pieces of self

Little by little
I write my way out
And back
And reflect on
What happened?
What had I become?
What was I becoming?

Was I flowering or
Decomposing
When I exploded?
Or both?
Or was this just
Another
One of many
Of my rebirths?

Addicted to Love (Shadow Monsters)

8/22/19

You may be addicted
to illegal or prescription drugs,
sugar, coffee, candy, carbs,
fast cars, sex, relationships, cigarettes,
performing acts of charity,
giving,
taking,
hurting self,
Hurting others,
stealing,
beauty,
creating,
destroying,
electronics, work,
play, games,
sleeping, never sleeping, doing nothing, never stopping,
et cetera, et cetera.

But it all comes back
to the same source
—an addiction to the purest force
—Love, and feeling of
that highest good,
And we want it so much
we will sell our souls,
will change who we are,
change our direction to just
keep
the
High
—the adrenaline that reminds
we are physically here

But we become addicted to
our best intentioned,
innocent source.
The addiction takes over
and makes us forget
our
“why,”
and turns us into
shadow monsters of ourselves,

But makes us see
monsters in
everyone else.

Outside

10.26.18

The moon full
And I felt it full,
From the inside;
I was prepared
And knew to watch
Like astronomers,
Astrologers,
And our ancestors,
In infancy
I am learning to read
The signs,
and connecting
body, spirit, mind,
to the nature
that has been beckoning me
from every angle
from within,
and
Outside.

Vision and Pen

10/17/2018

I saw more;
That I will not deny
to myself.

In part of an unexpected,
Terrifying gift,
Too big for me alone,
I saw a new direction,
I saw light
And dark,
Explosion,
And stars.

I saw vision
A purpose,
The kind we never
Realized possible,
I saw
what artists and poets,
Visionaries and prophets,
Ill and well
did not just
Imagine.

There is more
Than the eye can see
The mind’s eye sees more
Just all too much at once
For our tiny beings
And from my glimpse
I am humbled,
In awe
And reinoriented,
And amongst my roles
That I revere
Also vision and pen
are my purpose.