Everyone I know is crying women, men this is what our anger becomes when our fire runs out and we realize what we’ve done
This is how we bare our souls with honest feeling in safety why should we alone endure our gief?
In the fray, the pages rend – this time not my hand to blame – yet the rip reveals remembrance that recollection cannot heal
Bearing loss, the heartache felt heavy as a pack carried uphill over many days heavier now, as if weight was added still
Sorrow, the melancholy blues I haven’t felt you in a while and here you are anew
We may wallow in anguish, woe — briefly — as we fall into the cracks as night chases the sun away we can wish for tomorrow’s gift: a day that destroys our dismay
Poem by K. Samways, written in 2020 as part of the (currently) unpublished collection, A Very Slow Awakening Read time: 10 minutes
I
It’s easy to think of yourself as Fearless until you meet someone who’s dared to do what you believe you cannot.
How do you free yourself of this doubt?
This delusion?
This ignorant confusion?
of reality
created
by mind my mind mirror mind giving you thoughts
Hope you like them!
I pass them along ethereal waves
insubstantial or did you catch the breath I breathed on your neck
I ran a finger down your spine but it was without permission
So I did not allow you privy access to this personal conquering of my fears
Reality resists and so flow slows
Because my mind still finds it difficult to manage
this fearlessness
with doubt
A teeter-totter I played on as a child yearned to outgrow yearned to know yet they stripped the playground bare of these
along with the merry-go-round we’d spin with ease running as hard as we could in sick circular motion
until it spun so fast and pulled us to our knees
four Band-aids to stop the bleed
too expensive to remain on school ground lot now kids can’t play
not because the bandages cost too much
But because at some point the PTA understood that they could be sued for their kids will be kids attitude
Reality created anew from the mind of these fearful few
That turned money into an object to be held cemented it as some kind of tangible symbol so we believe the cash is as real as the gun
held to head of one soon dead so one can eat although another meet his end
The money, raw symbol, as real as the guts now splattered on the wall
Where are my guts? I tried to spill them but the metaphor falls flat because I can’t hold them in my hands and share them with you
and besides
I’m feeling gutless all of a sudden
II
So,
I’ve got this story for you
About this daydream
I am constantly
(I don’t mean constantly but you know)
having and let me tell you!
I am so chill. I mean, calm, cool and collected. We’re standing together.
(Seriously, it’s just a daydream not a fantasy)
We’ve got some serious eye contact going on you know the type I mean I’m looking at you you’re looking at me and though it’s just our eyes we see we’ve gone a bit deeper a couple layers in at least it seems I see a bit more when you see me
–kind of erotic, right? Okay, well, not for everyone.
So, I’ve got this gift this present this moment with you and I’m trying to space it out not really sure if you are too
(even though it’s a daydream heck, got to make it as real as possible, really secure those doubts and fears)
My thoughts
Maybe I’ll play the mirror game – make a face and see if he does the same
So I smile at you and why am I surprised you smile back and I melt inside
It’s a mushy melt I’ve yearned for Not the sensual touch of skin on skin but soulful union of long lost kin a soul lost from another life and from my teacher’s mouth came this advice:
How would you heal the connection from a dream?
(Most of the advice comes in the form of a question go figure)
So I think with more doubt yet
Maybe I shouldn’t wish for this selfish yearning for devotion from another being, though I’m simply longing for the very ordinary human wish to use this form as an outlet, a plug to connect two souls not really separate yet still two mental continuum
And when I put it that way it still feels divine So I think act natural change and maintain your aspiration lead it into action not battle nope. no war here. more like riding a raft down the river with a staff your guide
(that stick isn’t going to help you upriver against this current)
This river is leading me to one place enlightened with scent of mint no doubt of that otherwise I’d be stuck on this fucking raft forever.
I guess then the appearance of choice is distilled to two
be afraid or be fearless
Oh, right, so,
I was telling you this story about this daydream I’m having
(no not right now – well, yes technically it’s in my mind)
where we’re looking into one another’s eyes
blah blah blah
I just want to touch you because I feel you empathize with me a lot
(and many others too.. that’s what’s so cool about you)
And because I took a quiz and one of my love languages is physical touch thus I need it so much and need is a word I feel I need to eradicate from my vocabulary along with should
Here’s the vision’s catch
If I touch you, It ends. It’s over.
All I have in dreams awake and sleeping is this silly crazy yearning and at best heavy eye contact and once in a while words that say I love you back
I can’t help question
(my own advice, I guess)
Why is that?
III
Circling back to aspiration
I feel the need to acrostic this bitch
Ask me Search me Preach to me! I have looked for Harmony, Usually a Rival, Discerning And certainly not dumb Though I see an unfinished symphony I wish for completion, To become One, Nurturing
I am naive yet not the fool trust blind faith educated tested with proven lived experience
I’ve felt courage but how will I recognize a type of fearlessness I’ve never felt before
The answer could be distilled to two once more
Trust that it will work out despite not knowing or Trust that you will recognize the unexpected when it happens
When I get truly caught up in rhythms, movements emotions blown up earthly materials wind water air especially earth so weighty here gravity pulls me down and my resistance is sideways steps at least they are not
moving backward.
Oops.
That happens sometimes too
Defying gravity feels like a bad girl’s thing and I’ve been disciplined previously enjoyed not then enjoyed not now so fearlessness is called upon somehow
to defy in spite of anxiety worry fear
It comes as wisdom comes as grace comes as smile on a happy face
Comes in feeling within without
Positive now without doubt
I’ve meditated hours in present tense so that future is now and I wait less
Patience a virtue I definitely have put to test again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and if this is trying you in the slightest you can bear…well, probably a lot apparently we all can as long as the mind believes we can it can — can you do the can can?
Distraction of earth mode on, man.
Circling back, again and again and again and again and again and again and again and (that’s where we left off)
No one ever said
fearlessness didn’t manifest as the human quality (note not disorder) A.D.H.D.
What I’m trying to say is that this courage is built on a foundation I celebrate encourage and could definitely cultivate a little more of
IV
This is my garden
I don’t normally show it to people.
The weeds are a little overgrown, yeah.
I tried to help my mom garden several years ago. (I mean several, and I’m only young!) How it hurt my knees. They really ached. I was probably dehydrated, I think back, cold fingers now, winter weather getting in, yes, definitely dehydrated.
I used to tell myself a story that I would never have patience.
I was really angry back then.
I used to tell myself a story that I would never garden.
I was really in the weeds back then.
I used to tell myself a story that I would never be loved.
Can you even imagine? How silly. How common. How unbelievably ordinary. To believe a belief a mere thought conjured from a mind of deepest insecurity fueled by economic insecurity encouraged by destabilizing conglomerate objectives appearing synergetic in nature of course but in reality only found in nature not corporate systems lol!
So since then I set to change that intention
by seeking, purposely
to change by merely changing aspiration
only I am taking it to the next level
so discontent at last with ordinary existence that I must, no, need! to pledge I choose deathlessness and traveler of the next life never to rest never to stop.
Fearless Fearless is the chant
(did you hear? I like chanting now)
musical and powerful and OM and AH and HUM
I get it now I’m not there yet this story holds within it truth yet really isn’t quite what you imagine it to be
Mistaken conception from your mind and that you put on me
(I do it too)
Right, back to the gardening.
So I’m finally learning how to grow stuff really, and properly by following instructions and making sure these little plant babies get enough sunlight and water and I even have a couple in my apartment
(have you seen my apartment recently? My ego wants me to tell you, it’s pretty rad)
You wouldn’t believe what I can make happen with enough sleep the right diet and a little bit of exercise
(okay, a lot of dancing)
V
If I choose to be fearless selfless patient virtuous my highest self
should humbleness not spill from my lips
Nah. Remain natural, He said.
I want to inspire, I said. Not just be inspired by.
And all my wishes have come true. So why not this right now?
All the wishes I remember
and work toward all come true.
It’s just so goddamn hard to remember them all so I wish to just focus on
A rebellion against social media, the true corporate time thief:
Are you tired of being robbed of your choices, implanted and imbibed with capitalist messages dictating your every thought and move? Buy this drink and earn stars! Buy this and earn points! Try this thing and get a medal! Give your money and your freedom of choice away! Give your safety over to those with a track record of incompetence – a slate wiped clean by expensive lawyers and void of future liability (read the fine print).
Why continue to ignore credible sources who say the same thing: discover your mind. Go within. This isn’t a time wasting ploy like the invention swathed in your sweaty palms, tightly, vigilantly held, never disconnected yet always believing we’re disconnected. The paradox is not emptiness – the paradox is the life we’re living now: senseless, meaningless, when you add up minutes spent giving nothing to the world. Nothing! Giving nothing of ourselves to any being – just consuming and being consumed by a sickly intoxicant, cancerous and eating away at our minds, our senses until senseless we never drink our fill and wish for more minutes to pour into the void of despair and disaster.
The King I seek is standing in the sun. I cannot see his face. He holds out his hand to me. In his outstretched palm is a wax seal. I cannot make out the pressed emblem. On the tips of his fingers he offers an amber Jewel. I long to take the Jewel from his hand, but I don’t want to appear selfish. I just feel this offer means so much more. The seal reveals his official business, but Jewel feels like a gift meant just for me. I reach out my hand to touch his.
The King disappears, and I wake up.
Another Dream:
I was sitting on the bank of a river. From a distance, I watched a female oriole weave her nest with dry plants and tree bark. Every so often she would pause and call out to her partner, working at a distance. I moved closer to get a better vantage point. From up close I could see that the lady in orange array had woven lavender forget-me-nots into her hanging home. As she flew off to gather more materials, I stood up and peered inside. I gasped, thrown by what I saw. A window into a deep red world. A ruby hung in the clear sky casting brilliant rays across a crimson lake. A couple cradled in a copper canoe bent in for a kiss. A scarlet glare lights my pupils aflame and, blinking, I wake up.
Saturday: the day I’m designating for the shameless sharing of my artistic endeavors whether they be poetic, painted or playlist.
We’ll kick it off this week with painting & poetry.
Below, oil painting, “Where is my mind?”
Where is my mind? ~ 02.04.21 ~ 12″ x 16″ ~ Oil on Canvas
Below, excerpt from November-release poem, “Come Together“:
… as only magic that persuades the body move separate from mind out of control, dancing in time to art brought forth from empty space a fire burns within this place a story comes forth from your lips I’m dancing with it on my hips it is hypnotic as I twirl no longer human, no more a girl a spirit, light and transformed, airy …
Come Together, 2020
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