she who brings flowers and moonlight

A thread through the flower
on a cold winter day
down by the water
stringing this love lost
(deep in your eyes)
I was thirsty and so
I went there
Mary make me weep
I lost Him
Cold again

The poison and the nectar. I’m so lonely. You will only look for Her in body parts -you will never hear Her voice singing your name because you settle for so little to be sure that no one can ever love you. Anger mistaken for sexuality (like I said last
time in the blog you never actually read) -is the enemy of your heart. The Dick is not your body part. It is a state of white light consciousness.

Where are all the poets and deep thinkers?

Nobody ever called me out. You never even opened your mouth. Using my past against me
and trying to make me feel bad about myself for
“being a stripper” – once a stripper- you say?
You’re going to “pummel my sex organ” what is
wrong with this perversion of an open window?

What is wrong -is that your heart is black and the fire went out. Instead of letting it burn in divine yearning for Her beloved smile- you vow to bend Her over in a red haze of male sex organs- what a gang rape?

I do this for you for free-and open my heart and you sexually assault me and say I asked for it?

I think I’ve exposed a deep issue here that has poisoned this planet for long enough. Just because you can’t control Her or make Her love you or -get off on Her on command- doesn’t mean you need to get violent and stoop so low as to degrade the very source of your life.

Your Mother.

You said you called Her the other day and She was so happy to hear you that it made you cry…
What happened to Him?

The love too raw? The uncertainty too real?

She didn’t have to love you or nurse you or make daddy come back home. But you need to see that- that relationship forged the bond you don’t have with the feminine principle.

She who brings flowers and moonlight.

She who strokes your hair and wipes away your tears.

She who never left you and still waits for your little hand.

She isn’t a person and when you try to slay or conquer or control or dominate Her or make Her feel ugly or bad or fat or old- you’re only suffocating your own beauty. You’re only assuring that you will never be with Her at all.
(any version)

Not because She isn’t there but because you don’t see Her. She needs to be seen. Beyond asses and pretty faces lies your salvation. Not in Her sex organs but in the ecstasy of death promised in Her eyes.
Promised in the light you can never take or fuck out of Her.
You can’t stop Her from shining. You can’t take Her purity. You can’t stop Her from loving you.

The saddest part is there seems to be no “you” to love.

-You snuff out You-

in the worst possible way.

You can’t write me poems unless you’re drunk because you’re sexuality is blocked by anger and the intoxicant relieves you for just awhile- long enough to feel Her flowing through you in words describing who you really are…and the alcohol fades and you’re back in your straight jacket headed to an AA meeting – does that make sense to you?
(It’s not working my sweet boy)

I let you talk to me in the way that you do -and I engage your mediocrity- because I know nobody else will. You don’t have a chance of working this out without me. I know you don’t mean it. I know you actually love me. Maybe others don’t see and they criticize me for letting you come around-

but I see you and I always did..
(You need to have more respect and appreciation for this to work out though)

I know if I knocked on your door right now you wouldn’t even answer. You can’t fuck me because you can’t even fuck yourself yet -get it?

You can’t look into your own eyes yet.

You’re terrified of me and and that’s why you started shaking when I said “what are you doing down here? Do you need something?”

You can’t be with me because you can’t be with you.

So then you go out to your car and email me perverted assaults reducing me to “long legs and white teeth?”
Is that really the best you can do sweet boy?
Because I see so much more in you than you see in yourself. “Kudos” to the guy who “called me out” out of what? Your fantasy?

There are plenty of pornography sites you can go to. But my love is as ancient as the stars and
way deeper than what you’re aspiring to mount.
The temples of India are covered with carvings
of Him and Her in various lovemaking positions.
What does that mean to you?
Is there anyone there at all who can see the fire I’ve started? I guess the better question is, does anyone even care?

Theses tantric positions are internal states of awareness-sex isn’t ugly or violent. Love doesn’t have victims and insults. True lovemaking happens in the stars and not the bodies. Heavenly bodies merge into the Mother Light and a child is always born.

The child is Christ and He sits in your murky heart waiting for you
to stop masturbating and find a real friend.

Because the problem is you don’t know what you’re missing because you’ve never had it and
believe me Her ass will simply disappear and only Her eyes will remain.

Her eyes that look right through you.

You don’t want Her to look there, I get it..
and so you get defensive and try to reduce Her
to an object that gets passed around and probably has “a few good years left”

She has a knife in your heart already.
She got in when She saw your pain
and She started cutting away the lie..
sorry it hurts so bad…

The lie is that you want to Love Her.
The lie is that you want to Fuck Her.
The lie is that you have any idea what’s going on.
The lie is that you don’t feel sad and lonely.

Her mercy and understanding of your isolation
is Her motivation. She has been burned at the stake and hung from the tree for you to be free.

She laid at the foot of the cross sobbing while you died. She loves you.

She will always be your Mother Light
and She will never leave you.
(even when you think you left Her)

Open your eyes and look at me for real this time.

Sharada Devi

16 thoughts on “she who brings flowers and moonlight”

  1. I am sorry for my sexual assault of you and Baba!
    I will take some psychedelics soon (4 grams of Psilocybin Mushrooms or 200 ug LSD)
    And sort my head out!
    Time for a visit with the mother 🙂

    Love,

    John Kosswix

  2. Best not flirt with the Kali energy, she is the volcano. She lives in the ring of fire, she is life, life burning molton inner earth core reality lotus feet amrita soma be free. You must get behing HER not in front of HER for she is the mood.
    Hold in your deepest heart the blood of the dakini breath that told Milarepa what to do. She holds the crystal dagger
    She cuts out your heart and eats it. She lives in the charnal ground, where we all go in the end, bones and baby skull bones and lots of spirits roving around looking for a quick fuck in the corner. THIS WORLD is the burning ground of all desire and she sits in the fire, but you need to do it the pure way, like make the fireplace right, meaning intention and mantric thought. She is your voice and she is the shakti that beats your heart. When we connect with her secret teaching she takes away the curtain and we see like through a lotus world golden light, free,happy sukavati. it,s a flip, it,s a breath away from the last fire. Look into Her eyes with the attitude of total surrender and the light with go deep into your soul and you will born again. Bhagavan Das

  3. Yes Baba I will make the fireplace right! So I may get beneath her and be burned by her fire! DMT, Magic Mushrooms, LSD, All are sacred sacraments to be used in the glorious name of God! Mantra, Yoga, Pure Intention, Yes! Yes! Yes!

    Shiva Shiva Shiva,
    I am your believer
    Kali Kali Kali
    Please devour me
    Fill my heart with mother light
    For it has been squeezed dry
    The world is closing in
    On every single side
    Endless pain and suffering
    Coming all around
    Endless torment
    I turn to lust in hopes of being found
    She is my escape
    From all the things I hate
    they all fade away
    In the burning fiery maze
    Of her glorious gaze!

    Love! Om Namah Shivayah!

    John Kosswix

    1. Hi Tara Devi, beloved, my mother
      You are a shining manifestation of the god-light
      a beautiful aspect of the god love
      a big shiva lingam bows his head before you.
      A loving goddess, earthy as the divine dirt of the mother
      the dirt from which we all came
      earthy like the tree, which i see every day
      when I walk through the forest
      and praise to the divine mother

      Love,

      John Kosswix

  4. The mother light has filled my cup and it’s overflowing with love!

    The compassion exercised by sharada and bhagavan has drenched my soul with truth and sweet nectar of the highest! Thank you both.. Even though my thoughts and ideas are pretty much worthless to everyone; these writings from all involved, have helped me personally with my own attachments on how sick people should be treated. I hate sounding like a some kind of pompous holy musketeer or an ass kisser.. What I’m trying to explain is yesterday during the “attacks” – I was frightened for sharada like I was frightened for my mother when she used to get beat up.. I was like a deer in headlights connecting the cosmic net of time space memories – my mother friended a lot of these guys after the damage was done, and I never understood why? All the torment they put us through – and your still friends? It’s because: she was the only one to help them.. The only one who could. Thanks sharada and i apologize for being a coward yesterday while you and baba were attacked. This was a lesson I will never forget. I look forward to checking out the oracle vid when I have some time.. We’re all one banana peel away – love now – there is only God. Thank you and sorry.. love and healing energy going out to JK: your soul has a dim flickering light deep inside – find it and stoke it. Tara Devi you’re a beautiful soul. 🙏🏼

    Luv n light continually 📿

    1. I love you and I thank you.
      Om Namoh Bodhisatva Avalokateshvara.
      We will never stop until the suffering ends.
      All Sentient Beings are The Buddha.
      Om Namoh Budhaya~
      Om Mani Padme Hum~

  5. I just drank about 9 beers waiting for something creative to happen with the intention of writing something worth sharing with other people… nothings happening…I’m the shiny faced prophet of mediocrity unable to look you in the eye in the presence of others…

    1. There are no others at this point , only you the divine and your sad solitude of 9 beers.
      It been must be observation that nothing beyond mediocrity tends to happen after 9 beers.
      Try writing again tomorrow .
      When the clear light of love is more prevalent and amenable.
      we all want you to rise above your despondency and aspire to that which is healing, kind and spiritually restorative.
      And also your birthright.
      we all have faith in you.

    1. Who EVER said that it was?
      you said you had to be drunk to be creative-
      maybe that was a lie you don’t remember telling me- I said if a person NEEDS alcohol
      to engage their creativity then there is a problem/block that is beyond and deeper than
      the problem of “overdrinking” and AA may not help with the actual issue being that the alcoholism is a symptom- not THE PROBLEM ITSELF. so please drop this ridiculous issue of trying to make me
      responsible for your drinking ok?

      1. and my face isn’t shiny either…I could look you in the eye just fine like I did that cold winter day when I wasn’t shaking at all…

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