I won’t turn around. I won’t look back, at before. A ghost jumped in front of me. I thought you were dead. There is a warlock who lives not far from here, go…look in his eyes. I am a story teller, it’s a fading art. A tree lies uprooted, there is a graveyard with nothing but dirt, unseen old bones and plastic flowers. Get me out of here. It’s just over the horizon this mystical place. Pools of black water that read your mind and fish that swim sideways knowing they’re fish. But I wrote about this land and nobody cared. They don’t have to know you said the ghost, I can see how well you are erasing it all. Stay here just a little longer to watch the silhouettes dance and disappear under the moonlight. You bewitch every one of them, they’ll never see what you’ve done. Not until after it’s over and gone. Just come, follow me down this dark lonely road. He lives this way. A ghost points at an angle with a white invisible hand. Toward the earth, downhill, a snake rises to meet his gaze that goes unseen by anyone but me. The past is over and gone said I. No, we draw the past into ourselves like a great looping majesty and then we create gods to pray to. Which is only an open mouth, we come inside to devour what’s gone. The shadow that light makes, and isn’t it ironic. That we’re here together now and you can hear me and see the world that’s hidden. It’s beneath you. It’s above you. It exhales you repeatedly and you think it’s you breathing. Come this way, we call it love. The feeling of moving light over dark hills. We feel love, the feeling of moving dark into light bodies.
Clouds come and they go, we cry for what’s gone. Ghost, my memory. I take pictures of everything so as not to forget the beauty of what’s leaving forever. Film over film. He’s waiting. With eyes as doorways, into her. This is the redemptive power of a system collapsing in on itself. It is divine love witnessed everywhere. Misinterpreted, we disease ourselves with thought. He lives up the spiraling bluish gray hill, he lives at the top of the forgotten place. He waits and no one ever comes. He stares down into a black pool of water waiting for her emergence. What she brings is you. Into his eyes, come and look into his eyes. But you’re a ghost, how can you see me. I won’t look back. You’ve been uprooted, you are drowning in a heavy air that no one sees but me. I lift my head and I look up. There is a peak, there are ten stars reaching downward. There is a sound like distant thunder. There is a breathless silver sky. There is a body that looks like me floating into a whirlpool of flashing light. This is the final storm that takes the flower. You make no sense you never have, your tongue is split as if you can only speak of crossroads. I saw eyes, eyes inside the ghost. And as I entered a diamond doorway opened in his forehead. There was a serpent made of gold that was erect and gazing just inside his empty head. There was a sky like one I have never seen and there was no body anymore, not a ghost not a cloud. Not a tear or a shadow. Not a memory.
I am a storyteller said a voice that I assumed was God.
I may be a portal to something divine.
Sharada Devi
Peaceful is the sound of cicadas
Irritatedlingly divine is the mosquitoes bite
The crow calls to no one.
If I had wings I would answer in an instant
So I run, run as fast as my tattered and torn shoes will take me
When I tire, I sit against friends of fallen redwoods
Inside my spirit runs up and down my spine
The track of the sushumina is electric and intoxicating
One million mega watts of hot, sexy, blood boiling, sweaty kundalini
Whiplashes my neck
I know bliss is an obstacle but mother Shakti jolt my body some more.
Hear the cicadas
(At the end).
https://youtu.be/BMkFi3yGjmQ
I love you, Sharada Devi. The cicadas play in me, as I don’t know what I am, as the night takes me.
it is a bug, I just found out.
What are you listening to?
The song?
Have you been watching that show again about the naked people in the forest?
We saw it in the hotel room.
Either way, this is some hardcore writing!
Lol no…but I know that show. It’s amazing how for days or weeks on end you have seemingly dull no frills experiences, then all of a sudden you are thrust back into the cockpit of Shakti. Gives me hope to continue.
The trails in arcata were inspiring that day.
I think cockpit says it all.
LOL LOL LOL…🙀
lol sexual energies were high that day…
May be?
You know it when you see it.
How about “may it be” then?
⭐️Yes?
opportunities may be rare
like fading art.
windows linger open for only so long
vast is the sky above
below, the path may be narrow
still, the journey must ensue
nothing ventured, nothing gained
Many are called, few may answer
even less are chosen.
Like a shaft of light radiating from an unknown source
we gravitate towards that luminosity as if magnetically selected.
crystalline children, heed the esoteric invitation
play the game that has no rules
those who have eyes, let them see
those who have ears let them hear
something magnificent is out there waiting
The game that has no rules?!
Now we’re getting somewhere!!!
I know a lot of judges and spiritual
police people…I’ve gotten tickets and
been sentenced these passed couple of days! Haha! I’ve got fines to pay and behavior to be ashamed of…maybe so…maybe so, we’ll see. I at least know I didn’t live in a fear rule prison rattling the bars and blessing those less informed on “bodhisattva protocol” hahahaha!!! I don’t even bless back, that’s obnoxious..then the little prayer hands…I can’t take it!
I prefer your view. It gives me hope!❤️
Oh good.
I like it when we’re getting somewhere…
Hey Sharada,
Did you and baghavan take off videos from your youtube channel? Also, do you guys plan on making more of those? Those are helpful and I appreciate it. Thanks.
Pete
Dear Pete,
Thank you! Yes I know the videos are removed. I personally plan to make more
in the near future. BD will not be making any more videos. Thanks again!
Dude. I’m sorry about your divorce; sorry about your husband, rather. What a tragedy is attachment. My dog is lying next to me and she just started choking a bit and it sounded like human sobs. And I thought maybe we all feel this cord tied too tight. I told my lover that his anger is so heavy that its crushing me. And I can’t breathe. But maybe its not his anger. Maybe its his attachment and his beggar’s hands. Its his desperate heart pulling me under until I’m gasping for air. Matrimonial sheets are sometimes boa constrictors in disguise as butterflies. Disentangle, Dear Heart. I believe in you.
You are right about attachment…and suffocation. It’s hard to imagine where actual love fits into any of it. Due to human fear, it would seem love lies either dormant or secondary. The guilt of it’s supposed conditions keeps us in bondage-
based mostly I feel on mommy and daddy with some religion mixed in. So I have no answers. I just try to practice what I preach however constricted and wingless.
Thank you my longtime friend.
Impossibilities are invitations
The soul must be freed, whatever the cost
https://youtu.be/Fjft3iFc7bs
a brothers wild eyes
hugging arms that don’t lie
loved ones who die
making sense of the inexplicable
why try…
everything seems accelerated
sped up even within timelessness
too raw
like a snake stripped of it’s skin
turned inside out
like being launched and flaring too close to the sun
singed and stingingly burnt
cosmic tumblers clicking unlocking, unblocking
urging closer to a great leap
we are all stronger than we think we are
what do the empty houses mean?
I really need to know.
crossroads are on fire
sparks are flying
venturing out of the comfort zone can be revealing
coming home can be way too stark
what do i do with all this illusion overload?
👻🔥💥
Just saw this today amidst lots of spam. Don’t know how old it is…
it’s from wednesday night. How I was feeling at that moment.
After being away and immersed in a big 4 day dose of emotional and other “reality”