It is essential that you recognize how your old ways of thinking and acting have gotten you exactly where you are right now.~T. Harvey Eker
In the middle of the night, chickpeas teach
an imperative restriction. Outreach
of a histamine response. What folly
to forget. I can blame melancholy
and maudlin midnight tales but truth be told
my body’s signals manifold are gold
and I the miner. Draining in the dark
excesses. In my balancing remark
upon the mess that is my message. Clean
my diet once again, my focus keen.
Radiant wellbeing my aim. The game
starts by looking in the mirror to claim.
Inspired by: Maudlin, Folly, Restriction, Imperative and a runny nose from eating garbanzo beans.
Featured image: Reflection in a puddle.
Beyond the covert op, every human has the capacity to act in ways that change the flow of time, the architecture of space and the sources of energy.~Jon Rappoport
In this instant, I seem amenable.
You believe I won’t say, this scene is bull
since I profess what you resist persists
perhaps I won’t point out the covert twists
which are revealed when standing in the truth
of my own way, my powers freed, unloosed.
I won’t lie low or spin my wheels, descend
into the labyrinth; it’s a dead end.
And I am living, vibrant, curious
imagining, creating, furious
ideas and insights shooting out like sparks
a lightning rod illuminates landmarks.
No use to urge the crowd or stand soapbox.
I’m on my path, uncaged, enraged. The blocks
so puny. Psyop constructs now aflame
my fiery senses burn through with my aim.
Inspired by: Instant, Lie Low, Amenable and Jon Rappoport’s phenomenal guidance to Exit From The Matrix.
“When it doesn’t bring out the worst, pressure brings out the best in people.”
― Sol Luckman
After every heartbreak disaster
I find a way through the pain to master
those feelings that evoke a rainy day
helpless, hopeless, they stalk. Before they sway
I lean the other way, optimist’s flex
a tiny movement and the dark’s perplexed
and foiled again. Powerful vibration
with the aim to glean new information.
Inspired by: Disaster, Stalk, Perplex, Glean and the Stream of Consciousness Saturday prompt a rainy day.
We make ropes with all aspects of the creation in this way.*~a San Bushman
An infant’s entrainment at arrival
roped in by our own fierce focused survival.
Enmeshed in the sticky web, strive to learn
the ways and words through which our passions burn
to freedom. But kept apart, breath controlled,
smiles masked, we settle into growing old.
Bones crepitate and presbyopia
grim labels our self-made dystopia
And then we die.
It’s all a lie.
and shake the remnants of my yoke. I break
the spell that I have woven and I claim
the power to live my vibrant selfsame
outside, barefoot and grounding, sounding tones
alert for birdsongs, tiny glinting stones
breezy caress and kiss of sun. Behind
the boxes and the screens unplugged unbind.
Inspired by: Apart, Crepitate, Presbyopia and Enmesh.
Full quote from What The Robin Knows, “If one day I see a small bird and recognize it, a thin thread will form between me and that bird. If I just see it and don’t really recognize it, there is no thin thread. If I go out tomorrow and see and recognize that same small bird again, the thread will thicken and strengthen just a little. Every time I see and recognize that bird, the thread strengthens. Eventually it will grow into a string, then a cord, and finally a rope. This is what it means to be a Bushman. We make ropes with all aspects of the creation in this way.
Featured image: The house finch sings sweet thank yous at my feeder.
The only way to make sense out of change is to plunge into it, move with it, and join the dance.~Alan Watts
Person A triple-masked and triple-vaxxed
needing to comply, willing to be taxed.
Person B is down the rabbit hole; pops
up in alarm. New ledes, new tracks, dead stops
that fuel the armageddon line C holds.
Woodpecker flies in cautious, quick and bold.
I focus on my beating heart, I breathe,
release the crumbling old. Creative, seethe
fleeced by the state no more, those rules are moot.
My share of digging galore, exposed roots
diseased and withered, easily dismissed.
Dive into now’s bright current, soundly kissed.
Inspired by: Moot, Fleece, Galore and State.
Featured image: A barefoot dance with my niece. I wish joyful barefoot dancing to you today!
It’s curtains for the archons in these plays
the essence of humanity gainsays
AI. Arcane discovery: how love
exposes fear. Awake, alert, we shove
past the disintegrating stage. Lights up,
it’s all a show and out of date. Fright’s cup
false evidence appearing real. Now sees
the utter waste of giving energy
Let all the virtual signalers be.
In the stress of dissonance, hard to see
while warrens of rabbit holes beckon, numb
and medicated, depths call to be plumbed
Artifacts are obstacles, sheer refuse.
My sacred being naysays that abuse.
Imagination calls, a bird in flight
creating anew, inspired by insight
Inspired by: Essence, Discovery and Curtains.
She said, pay attention to birds, they’re sent
with messages you should explore. Foment
is fueled when focus feeds the fires of fools.
I had to switch wild bird food, starlings ruled
a frenzied flock of greed seized shelled seeds.
This morning, they fly in then out. No need
to crack shells, extract value maximal
convert to calories inflammable.
Yesterday watching spectacular shows
the cackling grackles, suet on poles
summoned woodpeckers, cardinals, sparrows
and jays. Finches, nuthatches like arrows
they aimed to delight. Big birds devoured
supplies. I change offerings, empowered
to feed with discernment. When they alight
today, pick through my menu, then take flight
just so as fear, uncertainty and doubts
clamor to be fed, heckle and shout,
I take a breath and clear the skies, emptied
let peace descend before I sow new seed.
Inspired by: Pole, Inflammable, Explore and Maximal.
*In crypto lingo, FUD means fear, uncertainty and doubt. Right now we’re in Extreme Fear.
Featured photo: These greedy starlings and the murmuration that came after them cleaned out everything, leaving nothing for the tiny native birds.
Our bodies mirror the universe, down to the working of each cell. Study the micro and you’ll find the macro reflected in it…if we study ourselves thoroughly, we may just find the design of the universe reflected in us.~Itzhak Bentov
Fall back in love with life! Switch your focus to see and go through openings, work around obstacles, adjust to the quickly changing morphic field. Evolve the will, balance with the frequency to override all the new world order’s narratives.~Laura Walker
The screens in their zenith implore me to
stew in the unfathomable deep blues
posted by indefatigable fans
upset by what is wrong out there, demands
to disdain breath, comply, to look without
seductive siren call with so much clout.
How do you look away from fear porn’s pose?
Unplugged, I feel the grief as the old goes
crumbling, each artifact exposed, cries
rejection separates it’s no surprise
time’s trickery hides our great history.
Focus now to open life’s mysteries.
Resolved to fall in love just as a hawk
arrives and all the small birds flee and squawk.
I keep the feeders filled, cultivate mind.
Destroying the old paradigms is kind.
Inspired by: Unfathomable, Zenith, Disdain and Indefatigable.
Featured image: I keep falling in love with bluebird visitors.
Early winter night, I consider songs–each
lyric lamenting old wrongs. Dark teaches
the verity of emotions’ roots. Seeds
planted under stress infest, grow like weeds
choking the old ways. We’ve laid down the tracks
and far too long those trains have hurtled back
through painful past’s alcohol-fueled misdeeds
healing forestalled schooled by duality
Today I look into reflected glare
and ask the brave woman who’s standing there:
why would you let this thought survive? In deep
I trace what’s underground creeping and sweep
into illumination. Alchemy
is my true path. Elements transmute, free
the trance, bespelled no more. My focus brings
intention to evolve. My new heart sings.
Inspired by: Alcohol, Song and Verity.
Featured image: Yesterday just as I spoke concern about my ill father, this bluebird (my mother’s favorite) flew repeatedly at his reflection in my window.
A dove may show up when hard times are ending, and a new understanding of one’s self is emerging. ~Rose
In this construct referred to as time
and the illusory separation-dream
we slip through gaps and slither
in the continental divide, driving
it twice today and sending
unfathomed blessings all through the being
the sign delineates.
It is too costly to focus
on the screens. I worth
I value I currency
the most creative power in the world
can see and you suggest
I pay to–what, sit through drivel?
Unplug, unplug. Know the electric drug
changes you deep within
The dissonance tries to weave
a stranglehold when breath
exactly what I need.
Constrictions I heed
balance delicate to achieve
especially in this time of upheaval.
I have made no secret:
I love you true.
Through the ages and today
I’ve been reading poems about you
and the things we would do
and my heartful of love
doesn’t understand why
we create this illusion
of separation. I’m releasing
these restraints. Time and I
work together. We can tell
each other anything
when being now we give
and we receive every signal
and intentionally create this new world.