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Jivana's Memoris: 41“Never doubt that a small group of thoughtful, committed citizens can change the world; indeed it’s the only thing that ever has.”
To believe in what they believed. Did I believe it though? I had to.
As foreign as it might have seemed to me, they were right. I had been broken free. I was bare in a new domain. If I had issues dealing, it was just that the sensation was new on my skin, a little raw. I’d have to acclimate but no matter what, there was no going back. I was surprised at how I was dealing with it all actually. I am sure I was in a state of shock. Shocked and shocked again. What resilient systems we have.
I pulled over to fill up on gas and give my mind a rest. As I pumped, my skirt flirted up in a passing breeze, and my thoughts, just briefly, were replaced by a feeling of coolness on my skin. As I pulled out, I noticed the fading and dilapidated "Gas" sign, painted in pe
Jivana's Memoris: 40As I drove, that first 40 minutes or so, the sky seemed to have a golden cast that seemed to match my mood. I drove on the long, straight, two-lane highway with shrubs like green and brown polka dots covering the great expanses on either side of me. Highway poppies ate my dust and a wildly blowing flag in the distance seemed static next to the immensity of this timeless landscape. Flags, why did we always have to stake our claim? Would we ever really change?
And why did I think it looked timeless here? Because it always changes from the constant resurfacing of the wind ... yes and that is why they were not worried about track marks maybe.
I thought of Hope, some etheric being as she was described to me.
“Granted we see the shadow people too” joked Wolife. He had been passing by Zoe and I as she was describing Hope to me.
“What are the shadow people?” I asked.
“Oh, you haven’t seen them yet” said Zoe softly, with big eyes
Jivana's Memoirs: 39Pulling out with my car I heard the crunchy sound of dirt on tires. Looking in my rear view mirror, a cloud of dust masked the already well camouflaged lair.
Hazy memories of the films and the happenings fogged my mind. Concentration was not an option. Instead, I felt compelled to just allow myself to watch all the different thoughts, like projections on my fog, fade in and out. Finally, it struck me I popped my head above the clouds and I knew what we had to do. Well, sort of …
All I really knew is, I had to do something. I had the power to do something. I couldn’t wait for them to tell me what to do because I’m not sure they knew themselves. That was clear. They just kept telling me they knew they needed me but never once for what. Everyone has their own part to play and mine was at very least to figure out what mine was.
Everything in the new world was about marketing. I had to do something with marketing … Mark
Jivana's Memoirs: 37“Let’s get you some coconut water. You’re probably dehydrated” said Zoe.
“I was mostly dry heaving” I said
“Um, yeah well I think I still have something to clean up” she joked back with me.
“Regardless, we should all replenish our electrolytes. Lovely idea Zoe” said Paris.
The girls escorted me back into the debrief room. It’s like the room carried a strong and swirling essence still, or perhaps it was just the memories of what had just happened, that made me want to fall over. They brought me to the bar, got me on a stool, so I could at least sit upright but prop myself up on something.
Zephr was in the room with her back up against the wall and one knee up. The timeless tough girl stance. And she was so comfortable with panty shots I just found it remarkable, although I said nothing.
Without anyone asking she said “It’s a Kombucha”
Zoe smiled and then I saw her look
Jivana's Memoirs: 38My eyes popped open. I don’t remember dreaming anything but when I woke I felt refreshed and clear. The film was off. It seemed like everyone had resigned to nap time.
Zoe and I were back to back, curled up in opposite fetal position like spinal fused Siamese twins. I couldn’t remember any specific message from Dr. Rave’s film but I had this clear sense of what Zoe might have meant before … with this being so much bigger than myself. We were part of something not just here and now but almost like something that has been going on for eons, perhaps since the end of time. We represented something, some aspect of the human spirit that continually emerges. The tribes we saw in the film, their customs, are endangered. Even though we risk losing them, and knowledge we might never gain? Somehow part of that was being reborn through us.
With that thought, I felt the needs to sit up. I did my best to not disturb Zoe. This t
breathe that soul straight down my throatyou are my full-lipped muse
and half-lidded siren
humming a broken chorus
breathing to a metronome
sighing in crescendo
an evangelizer of acoustics
the ministry of instrumentals
I've been baptized
in your anarchist hymns
you've made me a believer
of vinyl and a religion without god
INFINITELY LILITHI am not dead for I cannot die,
once Man thought I could be easily misused,
exiling me to an epilogue no longer remembered
as he blotted out my blush from staining
the Earth's chrysalis rind, if only he knew
that beneath my touch knowledge took root
and pumpkins were hollowed out into shapes
-seedless and skinless-as infinite as the mind.
I am not dead, I cannot die
for I am the memory of primevel bliss,
though blackened my skeleton still exists,
licking the Silence clean so my name can
bite more soundly, a thousand serpents hiss
from my nebula center, welcoming to me
my children who bring the blood that feeds
my dessicated garden, ravenously growing,
I cannot regret for I live too purely to repent
the pushing and prodding of my blossoms to be
known by the timeless exuberance of eons past,
in the Moonlight I move and speak of dark things
not really dead and the light not really blessed
without me being known first, infinitely I say
I am not dead for I cannot die.
I am Lilith.
The Lost Who WanderI find myself
at the feet of a god,
not with expectation,
praying falsely for
of divine intervention,
but out of sheer desperation,
like those who murmur
prayers to St. Jude,
within the darkness
where there is none
over the rocks
with the blind,
not counting how many
along the way,
all to hear enigmatic
from the parched
of a mad woman
with hallucinatory visions
living in a cave
which sweeps over me
in waves of nausea.
I martyr myself
for your pain,
and grieve unaccountably
for your loss,
it seers through me,
like St. Sebastian
I find myself penetrated
full of holes, bearing the marks
of a guilt which should
never have been my own.
But that dose not entirely
absolve me, there is
no escape from my own
all I can do is watch you
and wait for dead prayers
to be answered
by the indifferent
sages who devour
our fates making
bets as they attempt
at the endisthmus tossed over the edge
wipes the bull's back
in the odourless sun
the tiger could rest
could perhaps be crossed
the temple is marble,
white and final
the boy stands up
In the WoodsIn the woods my spirit wanders
it goes where now my feet shall follow
the trees, they speak with silent tongues
where wind will pass through every branch
my eyes alight with newfound life
I know this is my lasting home
the ground beneath receives me warmly
soft-spun soil has kissed my feet
the air around has touched me deeply
soaking in my every pore
the birds are singing in the trees
with peeping frogs drawn up and down
the waters of the streams are murm’ring
the distance now is not so far
and what is near is father still
the world it breathes in through the roots
where my soul is rising to
digging deep in untold heights
my spirit wanders with the breeze
here is where my people lived
where they fought and drank and built and died
the forest is our endless home
whence our finest tribes did hail
fare we well to come back home now
to bring soft flesh to bare
bear it out along the way
softest skin on rough hewn bark
the palm may breathe in with the wood
and out the lungs give a cath
UntitledToday, Father, we need Your aid
For in the in the present, battles rage
With Your guidance, victory will be made
And Your praise will be sung from age to age
Memories of Days of Peace to ComeMemories of Days of Peace to Come
Midnight, silence echoes through the void;
A sight once seen, the earth ever recalls.
In wordless wait, time comes to an end;
A tale of anguish, by curse and decay,
To be cleansed by the coming of a King.
Heat goes away as all things perish;
Universe being poured out unto death,
Longing for the hour of redemption,
Whence the high price of man's sin is paid,
Foretold since the old days of the fall.
Mountains weep with great tears from the heights;
Magma blood erupts through earthbound pores;
Pressure tightens the core in the deep.
Humble, the moon comforts grounded cries;
Thrice the quakes submit to divine will.
All of nature stands tortured and shamed
By the bloody hands of foul mankind;
Murderous, desecrating the holy.
The deep growl of God's wrath reverberates
Like judgement on atoning innocence.
Starlight pierces the black of the night;
Words of white tell their ancient witness.
The firmament bleeds its precious glow;
Holy brilliance she
FaithMy Faith is nameless
My Faith is listless
My Faith is impious
My Faith is faceless
My Faith answers to No higher source
Now, BecauseNow is the time to be tough.
Even though you don't want to be,
even though you'd rather just weep.
Now is the time to be strong.
Even though everything in you cries,
screams against it.
Now is the time to be happy.
Even though all you care about is fading,
falling rapidly into the background.
Because weeping does nobody good.
Not even you.
Because faltering only hurts you.
Not even screams help.
Because happiness is the glue
that is holding you
that is keeping you
from bursting apart at the seams.
Because even though everything, everything
Is falling away and is meaningless,
("Meaningless! Meaningless!" cries the Teacher)
You still need to ignore your grief
Keep moving and
It'll be fine.
Now is the time to be tough.
Even though it's so hard,
the hardest thing you've ever done.
Now is the time to be strong.
Even though yo
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scheinbar is a much-loved and well-known deviant. Just one look at her gallery, filled with enchanting photography, will have you mesmerized. A deviant for over 7 years, Christiane can always be found posting inspirational features as well as regularly commenting on other deviations and encouraging and empowering her fellow deviants. We are inspired and insist that you too stop by and congratulate ... Read More