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Answering PrayersJoin me in my merkaba
on a healer's journey
where we will land like angels
with glistening wings
beaming with hope and reparation
Living Awake to Capture a ButterflyI exist between worlds
Living awake in dreamlike time
The depth of reality exposed
The DOITThe DOIT
a concept long ago
replaced by the flag
of a manifest destiny
built up by the thought structures
we find ourself today in
the current mindstate of the Ego
and the flagship of Consumerica
& His ideals.
Our story takes place Democracity,
the capital of and paradise for
yet it is the battle field
for the emergent culture
where a new and unspoken manifest destiny
The flag of multinationals
is not honored by them
even though mainstream hagiographic reporters
venerate it and the DOW in their unquestioning.
Unpublicized crime is stricken from records or
has simply made no notice
censored by distraction
to a culture hungry for its cues.
Buy and buy into -that's all that matters
for the selves that cannot differentiate
life from fear.
The Fire Flyi watch the world often in my dreams
tonight i am some sort of butterfly winged fairy
sitting on a ledge in a far away paradise
holding my knees, pressing them close to my heart
i mourn for all the loss, all the ignorance, all the pain
that i see across the sea and horizon
of my old home
but i am something different now, this new being
and somewhere else, this beautiful place
i felt helpless at first
as if all i could do was watch
as my old world burned before me
and i was helpless
that is, until I realized I was not
i was still the same, and perhaps more equipped to help
so i went back in, into the fire i saw ahead
to offer whatever i had and whatever i could
The Intention of Raver JI am a teacher. I could end it there but I will elaborate.
There is a quote from Marianne Williamson, it says "A miracle is a shift in perception from fear to love". We often think of a miracle as a one time event but a shift in perception can sometimes take longer. It can be that a one time event takes you to a place in your consciousness (being or mind) where you decide to search for information that sends you then on a path to further realization and thus elicit a "miracle" by the definition of Ms. Williamson. So a miracle, is not the finish point, but the beginning point. It can be the catalyst event that sends you on a journey of a new reality you experience because your perception has shifted. I can attest to this fully.
I had a spiritual experience at a rave. I would say that it was the first one that probably got me hooked -and so I kept going. I was introduced to this culture through a group of new friends who later became my core crew
Touching Hopethe sea roars
our oil rig rave
we dance between oceans,
primordial and cosmic;
both taunting us.
dance harder -
pour more sweat and soul
into those dreams
into those visions
into your future
made in love and protest.
instigated by lasers
i am shot into the sky
trance-ported by an electric eruption
i linger lightly in atmospheric suspension
connected to galactic essence and
a web of patterned light beams
i see my fellow ravers dance below me,
as my head is a geyser of light
kaskading falling surrounding creating
a vortex illuminating our party;
illuminating our deed.
what is this?
as i hover in the sound field of manifestation-
ah! my hard work tonight has paid off.
i am touching hope.
is the scalding breath of winter.
the piss-thin streaks of dandruff snow,
is a kid afraid to be standing
in that corner because of that madman
with that coarse, red face and
but now he's sleeping
under a ragged coat,
so it might be safe? no, no,
this is the wrong memory,
this is not
how he would like
to have him etched...
standing alert and smoking
brand of cigarettes
and twirling that sad stub with
long frost-tinged fingers
back when he would respond
to his feeble
"what are you waiting for?.."
for a bark.
nothing else to wait for!.."
"the steel ship."
a pocket full of posies;
we all fall down...
what exactly awaits us
when our mind and body
simply shut down forever?
will we be remembered by
the things we did or the
people whose hearts we
that's part of life,
all things eventually wilt,
death - an inevitable event.
a girl bullied for who she is
was found (almost) dead in her
own room, her life
hanging on by a thread
while her body
hung on a noose
that was tightly knotted
with hate and self-pity;
why must the bullying continue
after all this time?
she liked girls,
death crawls up walls,
waiting at every turn.
death sings a taunting
lullaby, hoping to lure
its victims into a pit.
death doesn't care
whether your pain was
self-inflicted or caused
death craves your soul,
not your body.
life gives you one chance
use it wisely.
always remember that
everyone has a different
story than you;
your diet coke will only make you hungrier(just some wolf with big blue eyes)
I don't know when I stopped using capitals in my writing
Or when I stopped talking as much
I dyed my hair because I was trying to show you
That I didn't have to show you anything
I told myself to stop writing poems about you
As if the days I spend locked in your ice cold glare
Was something I could escape
My mother still screams at night
She has the worst nightmares I've ever heard
And I think I might be going down the same route
I keep telling myself to breathe
That it is okay, and I will be okay
We were never okay
and despite myself, i've noticed it
you don't look at me anymore
untitled.the dirt between
running, soles like
humming thunder whisper
hush, but these walls are made of
(i can't hear you).
chest burning, soaring-
past lives mumbling like
a burnt out radio,
you grace the ground with
and your bare feet
brush in the quiet
against the buzz of the earth
in a field of
Moriah JeanShe was soft and warm.
She was stone-cold.
I watched her, the strength in her
spine, the height in her shoulders,
the wave of ebony silk cascading over her
back - there was an unmistakable air.
But that skin, tight and smooth,
pulled over round hips, curved along
the concave of her stomach, crested
over her breast- a desert landscape.
She was sharp and round in all the
Formed from lightning and sand-
a burst of energy, a birth of
Untouchable, but for that treasured
moment of welcome, that break in
tension, that upturning of lips, pink
The knowing glance, the wanting look,
the low eyes, so dark, framed by sharp
lines and light- they placed her on a
pedestal, but she bent down with out-
She was not a goddess. She was polished
and coy, she was music - a symphony,
and sometimes, the cymbals crashed;
But she knew she was beautiful, and
she knew her strength was in the way
she let the music
The Ramblings of a Frozen SoulIt is cold
My fingertips are the most repulsive shade of blue
And my feet linger within the vile chambers of my stomach
Desperation led to this
Fueled by madness
I would be walking out of the cave...
...Had I had the limbs to carry me there
It is cold
Too cold to even scream
But you know...
I do still miss her
The girl who used to be the thing known as my love
Or at least I miss the part of her that was... "alive"
She's still with me
I talk to her frequently
I remember just recently I asked if she'd marry me
She's still thinking about it
Within the chamber that she is suspended in
Sometimes, I wonder if maybe she can't see me
Sometimes I wonder if,
Even though her eyes are open,
She can't see through what's supposed to be a two-way window
Sometimes I think I'm talking through a one-way window
...I really hope I'm not.
Even though she's encased behind the ice
Even though I've lost all feeling
I still "feel" warm when I'm with her
Damn you northern winds
remember melightning steps
haunt the cargo hold
where they let them
doze off... drunken bastards...
lightning steps -
sharpshooter stab marks (neck,)
a stern mother
the glare... bewitched
to the portholes. memento mei,
as written on the daughter's amulet;
she clutches it unknowingly in her sleep.
(will she burn too?) the night is
young but she isn't
anymore; she doesn't
know it yet.
We Did NothingIt wasn't funny.
We looked at each other,
then to the front,
our doe eyes reflecting the neon bright question;
What do we do?
We could hear him,
feel his anguish,
but we did not know what to do.
we did nothing
A Sirens Song.A slight breeze ruffled plumes attached onto an appendage.
We have searched so far...
Irritation could be seen within smiles.
For so long…
Six eyes watched as the flare from the Sun snuffed itself,
Cursed with feathers…
beyond the horizon.
Adorned to bone…
A breath of lethargy was passed through the group.
Our bodies grow tired…
Heaviness hung in the air.
Too weary to fly…
Darkness was descending.
Enduring days upon rocks…
Anticipation was setting in.
On a tiny isle…
There, within the distance, a slight dot.
A distinct vessel, traveling at a fast speed.
The winds carried to them the shouts of some...
Licking lips in excitement of the approaching storm.
Liners catch reefs, steering it towards their archipelago…
Three heads look towards the sky.
Lives are lo
My Ethereal Tightropei walk an ethereal tight rope
balancing between blackness and clouds
i lose my step
and fall into both.
the bottom of the blackness feels like a dark cave.
through my darkness
i see myself on the other side
in blissful free fall.
i am separated as if by a pane of glass.
a falling sea star
through clouds of spectacular color
I am joy
rushing unceasing unending feeling
pure, misty dissolution
in the dark, I wish to be that joy,
my palms pressed against the glass,
but I am just a witness to it.
split i turn around,
leaning against my wall
i slip down slowly
embracing my knees-
I know i am alone
i am not sad
and i am not afraid
i just don't know why i'm here
a small vibration
inside my heart-
i take a deep breath,
and walk into my darkness.
Keep in Touch!
Lilyas has dedicated herself to making our community a brighter place with her vibrant artwork and infectious enthusiasm for interacting with others in our community. It has certainly paid off, as many deviants flock to her page on a daily basis to let her know how much of an inspiration she is. We absolutely agree, and couldn't let all that hard work go without recognition, so it's with great pride that we bestow the Deviousness Award for March 2014, to ... Read More