“Some people think they jive me. But I know they must be crazy…”



“Walk on pins and needles
See what they can do
Walk on guilded splinters
With the King of the Zulu…”

Yes. I know. Everyone wants to know something. Everyone wants to see what’s inside. Yes she’s still got something to hide, hidden scars, after hours secrets, tantric equations, weaknesses. Yes, I’ve got it all and the more I reveal, the more I stay hidden behind my own magic weaving of words and of images. I’m a sorcerer, that’s what you may not believe. I have so many invisible, deadly snakes wrapped around my neck nobody can touch me like that, like I were in mortal danger. “Oh you must stop the blog, you’ve become too vulnerable.”

“…ain’t afraid of no tomcat
Fill my brains with poison…

Walk through the fire
Fly through the smoke
See my enemy
At the end of their rope…”

Right, I guess you don’t know me very well. You see, my father was a killer and my mother tried to kill me. I just weave like that and nothing will change the death on my plate. The more I show, the more I hide and that’s what magicians do, they mind fuck the fuckers basically. And it’s not because I don’t love you, it’s because it’s who I am, the best friend you’ll ever have, the best game player, the best mother fucker, the best shapeshifter, the best bitch, the best sucking, fucking baby of everything you’ll ever know…that is, if you want to come down into my electrical black lightening world of cradles and edges. And I can’t say I have a teaching or wear guru gear down there. I only know what I see in you and I play with it until it molds itself into “all about me,” another snake around my neck.

“I roll out my coffin
Drink poison in my chalice
Pride begins to fade
And you all feel my malice…”

This is the only way I can love by making it permanent, written in blood, etched in stone. Because carved in my stomach, are the words on the sorcerer’s door. “All ye who enter here, abandon hope.” That’s correct. I am inside the sorcerer’s door. Voodoo scary love strike. Seeing is believing, all this snake honey. And so I’ve been skipping the story because momentarily it’s demanding too much linear movement and sometimes I don’t like staying in line, grocery stores or whatever I’m like “fuck this,”…”excuse me, how long did it take to grow your hair… I love your hair…is it real….” I can’t fucking take it. Leave me alone. I try to hide behind BD so he can smile and answer. They try to touch me and I’m like FUCK THIS, and I go to the car…BD can deal with the big questions in life such as “Did you find what you were looking for?” Yeah right, of course, it’s food right? “Paper or plastic?” Here in Oregon, I love to say “PLASTIC, no I didn’t bring a cute canvass bag” and EFF with their heads just a little bit. Yes, I’m pissed, more like annoyed. Just leave me alone, let go of my dog rat, horse tail hair, get your fucking eggs and move on!!!!

Anyway, so where was I….yes scars, mine. Deep topic. I am one huge scar woven by vessel scars and my feelings and thoughts are scars. Scars remembering wounds and finding laughter there. Kindness on a good day. So the people annoy me because they’re not real. It’s like someone streaming fluorescent colored flashlights in my face all day, not even close to the sun so stop trying, just go away for awhile until you open those wounds up and start getting real so I’ll want to acknowledge your existence. Whatever if I’m a snob, failed bodhisattva, like I don’t care. I’m just me which is a strange, intense, emotional, perfecting ball of nothingness that I can’t even begin to figure out. I am the Buddha of compassion like a Rubik’s cube alright? you think my body of scars can stop me, no it’s the scars inside that I remember most. In a distant way, and yet I’m sure those scars are the protected ones, the ones I hide by casting pictures of myself at you, my sad eyes, as if I still can’t hide behind them…my entire protection is, yes, you can look but you’ll only find what you’re capable of seeing, in me…only what you know in you, will you know in me. That’s the naked muse magic.

So “All ye who enter here, abandon hope.” Is me. Hope is a lie just like fear. It’s these two places without an actual edge. It’s a pretend way to stay wrapped up in denial of the way this really has to be, stark and naked. And I don’t mean stupid, body naked, I mean naked. Bhagavan Das says
I’m too scary no matter what I do. He basically says I’m fucked so I might should just go with it. You know, he’s the one behind all this insanity, always laughing, encouraging my rebellion, agreeing with me, worshipping me, puffing up my demented head…but then again, I am just a scarred servant of whoever I meet or who is lofty enough to love me. My grandiosity never gets very far but sometimes I do wish it would…seems like more fun. Bigger and better like a balloon so full of breath it can float high above the ground forever. But I’m popped is the problem. I’m snapped off the big tree, doing it my butcher way now. Going to tear it all apart, going to give you everything, going to shock the shocker, going to love the lover, going to bruise the beloved, going to break every rule, going to do what I want so fuck your token money. Going to leave all the mannequins and devils in the dust, going to open my eyes inside of you.

So you want to see how it hurts, how I couldn’t stop the fates from falling, the pact with the entities who’ve always been watching me…taking me up, erasing my memory…but I remember some now and so they don’t hide quite as well. This place isn’t what you think it is.
All these walls and houses, banks and documents…it’s all to do to you exactly what I said in the beginning, distract you from what’s really happening. Your soul is being eaten by
astral entities who live amongst us. Our bodies are nothing. They use our bodies because we consider them the source of pleasure and from the pleasure or lack of, we conjure up emotions, these emotions open our bodies to them. Not only do they eat our emotions but they get inside and they mount our feminine soul and they rape her repeatedly to a gray, uneventful death while we just grow more numb and seethe more deeply eventually killing ourselves like a coward by avoiding pain, by not fucking properly. By not getting anything right because hope and fear are FUCKED. Stop believing all of it. Everything in this world is 100% WRONG. I don’t need to prove it, just look at what you’re in, doing…what it’s doing to you. Please retract your allegiance and let me torture you with God love. All seeing light love, pain breaking fear love. All of my Death Star five pointed, sharp magic love. Soft scars make soft love, anyway you want love. Love IS the fragment we lie about. We say “love” because the vocabulary choices are extremely limited…but you get my arrow in you heart either way and I know it, I’m a sharp shooter.



“Walk to me, get it, come, come
Walk on guilded splinters
Walk to me, get it, come, come
Walk on guilded splinters

Till I burn up
Till I burn up
Till I burn up
Till I burn up…”

I don’t care if I’m scarred, It’s not real. It’s violence on paper. Its 4 blood transfusions and it’s a rack of lamb. Me, who God left in the field until the harvest. I’m doing my best, defining freedom and love. My prison is small, I spend all day and night picking the lock dreaming of you. You are a soft scar, wounds are covered by bodies who love and healing is a blanket we call a scar. But it’s love, don’t grow numb. It’s all love, the pain takes us there most of all, into the fertile places where God sees everything and loves you not in spite of it, but because of it.

Your wounds and scars and broken teeth, your wrinkles and pains are badges of honor saying,

“I’ve gone to where God goes.”

They are why I love you and how I love me. So when you might think there is something to hide or to fear, think again. The heart is a portal to every heart there is. Some hearts are programmed to remember each other the way I remember you. And we go to the bottom of our body and we abort no one.

God is a blanket who takes the blanket away.

Feel me my message of hope.

“Put gris-gris on your doorstep
And soon you be in the gutter
Melt your heart like butter
And I can make you stutter…”

I hope you do. I fear you will.
Love the deepest thing,
Till I burn up.
Sharada Devi

26 thoughts on “BLACK VOODOO LOVE SCARS”

  1. We go beyond hope and fear and touch the inner core of the mother board. The movie is showing now in your mind-streaming no thought, just blips of bubble light flashing. She jumped off the deck and is hiding in the rocks and dirt, the pole of the weight of love was heavy and she flipped out. She is all and everything, more mad and crazy like a daisy. The sky screams her bliss balls of dark hole sun light, keep going deeper and deeper down the bunny hole. Feel the fear and shock your flesh like a bog, you’re stuck in the mud of me me and more me to sea. Eat the poison and turn your feathers into rainbow eyes, and dance like a turtle who came up from the deep to know your wish was only love. The volcano is flowing red hot lava mamo into the world to shock us into the first light of seeing. After all what are flesh and blood for? God’s all over the floor.
    Mamo das, Bhagavan Das the enabler.

  2. Here’s my throat
    You are so good at this,
    Definitely a snake
    I can feel
    my breath
    When I see a white bird,
    I want it to be from here

    You finish me too fast
    I didn’t tell you
    I have a picture for you
    It made of paper and Broken glass.
    I just broke the glass, so, much happier
    With it, see my face

    Alabama is beautiful
    When you get away
    From the people talking
    Into the hills, and open space

    Well I don’t know, but the sky
    Over Alabama
    can see me now
    And I feel like I just saw a dead raven. Red and black inside
    Just like my love,
    Pain is her name, because they don’t know her like
    Alabama knows the sky.
    And that’s the truth. I just never felt it, the other way
    I’m talking about the sky inside
    And I just saw a rainbow
    And I don’t care.
    Just that it’s in the sky.
    Huh. Painbows over bama

    1. It’s like passing a field of sunflowers,
      Back lit and happiness
      Doesn’t stop you.
      This trip is not about a field of sunflowers,
      Or even the sun
      My course is
      Death in bloom

      1. This trip,
        telephatic trip
        moon signs back lit
        by sunflowers
        death flowers
        red blood flowers
        seed black flowers
        Love tangled flowers
        snake flowers
        paper and glass flowers
        your face is a flower
        take me home.

          1. it feels real
            inside the dungeon
            seeing is surreal
            castles with
            chutes and ladders
            blood thatcher
            belted boy
            home away from
            girls that whip
            happy yellow
            birds that sing
            glory to the queen
            serpent tongue
            backtalk totally his
            death by knight
            King cobra
            Rules everyone
            I hope you’re happy
            as long as seeing
            is believing,
            honey lips
            fingers that shoot
            It’s all a dungeon
            Now. 😂🤣🤡
            As real as my picture
            of black. Is this song all my love

          2. That
            It took me this long
            To get here,
            My trail will continue
            To be bloody now
            No time
            For Jesus
            Thank you
            For your unflinching tear, slow
            Inaudible tare..
            Cavity, pulsing. With primordial painlike, a sea serpent
            Or something more
            It’s you; which of no

            Morphing. Up and down, I reversed it so you could watch
            The beginning
            My love, hard, hurt, guided splinter
            Felt where

          3. I feel enlightened
            by this reversing
            I can reply
            only in person,
            what you mean
            when you say
            felt where,
            yes I felt
            you there
            someone else
            for me

          4. right, baba

            she laughed and danced
            With the thought of death in her heart
            – die kleine

    2. definitely a snake,
      a floating white bird
      a sky with a rainbow
      a death radar watching
      definitely the window
      through the other window
      through the black
      red pain named love❤️

          1. LUCKY: LIVE

            I’m on a roll
            I’m on a roll this time
            I feel my luck could change

            Kill me, Sarah
            Kill me again with love
            It’s gonna be a glorious day

            Pull me out of the aircrash
            Pull me out of the lake
            ‘Cause I’m your superhero
            We are standing on the edge

            The head of state has called for me by name
            But I don’t have time for him
            It’s gonna be a glorious day
            I feel my luck could change

            Pull me out of the aircrash
            Pull me out of the lake
            ‘Cause I’m your superhero
            We are standing on the edge

            Amen, crash. LUCKY: die
            Godspeed, God pressed tight.

  3. on this one
    scars abound
    on every limb
    they are found
    under hair invisible
    crown of thorns
    etched and wrought
    by keen blades
    curiously unforeseen tumbles and spills
    collisions with destiny
    misfortunes against will
    mapped markings
    premature calling cards
    souvenirs of reel me back
    give it another go
    expiration date unknown
    back into the oven with her please
    1008 degrees
    she’s quite done yet
    Frankly my dear, You look BEAUTIFUL !!!

    1. Beautifully beautiful
      by every good deed
      every bursting seed
      every white bird
      that falls from
      her lips
      singing Krishna
      bring me my bird…

    2. silly silly half baked me
      – she’s NOT quite done yet –
      is where i meant to be..
      ( it’s not easy trying to be perfect
      in an imperfect world )

  4. 🎶 💙 🎶
    Sharada Devi, You are beauty true
    far beyond skin deep superficial
    radiantly radical
    especially when you do that voodoo
    that you do so well

  5. Went to the dark woods where the riverbed twists snake like and laid down in the cool earth by the moving waters and stare at the star lit sky and heard the Lord of the Universe sing praises of Hallelujah where hearts pour light while gathering in gold stardust and onward we rise no time to wallow in the mire. And the water’s lull a reminding, beauty’s in the pain and in the witness becomes the beloved jewel of holy essence and in removing masks the clearer the clarion’s herald of the great divine. In graduate thank you for stripping it down to what really shines forth a wisdom of purity and raw innocence, a rarity this elixir and when going to the river to pray, I can’t get enough of you.

  6. ya know something…
    when i read this poetic banter between U2 – ( SD & G )
    it makes me feel better about myself 😺
    it’s like an open opportunity to surrender once again
    into – yes, i love myself just as i am.
    🌸 🌼 🌸
    *** and in the realm where love and light / dark and audacious
    reigned equally supreme, the Queen of Hearts,
    donning the cloak of the Fair Witness, administered
    unto her beloved ones each according to their specific need ***
    ✨✨✨ ❤️ 👑 ❤️ ✨✨✨

    1. Me and him, Garuda, are like the sun and it’s shadow. He’s an inspiration, an emanation of krishna’s heartfire…a rare mystical bird everyone should follow his lead, Pure soul, wild soul abandon.
      Mother Worshiper. All around dark and hot.
      Be HAPPY and dance Lady Luck! Dance like
      you aren’t worried whose watching!!!❤️🦋

  7. Sweet moth-winged forest Dakini…
    I see you standing by the redwoods
    Looking out over the cosmic blue lake
    Contrasting sharply against the darkness
    Your naked skin paled by a blood-drained moon,
    I always knew you were Jesus, your scars told me so.
    They are where the poison blood was let from your body
    So moonlight would have a place to go, it needs a heaven too.

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