my broken mirror

♦I gaze into the scrying bowl- a black onyx bowl filled with water. Peering into the bowl I leave my mind and merge into the mirror of dark water. Breaking sound, I enter into the other world- to know the unknowable, to see the unseen.

The oracle has a black face and her eyes are shaped like diamonds. She whistles when you enter and she comes and goes in pulsing waves of eery splendor. “Is this what you were looking for?” she asks as you melt away…

Encapsulated in cocoons of demonic harmonics-they are shattering our mind waves so we stay tame- so we don’t remember our selves and our heritage. I break the sound wall with a countering harmonic- and I breach the system- and I walk inside…with puddles of you splashing beneath my invisible feet…

I will expose everything. The glamour in our wake, the upturned nose, the betrayal. It’s really not about getting covered up, staying safe- it’s about getting uncovered- stripping away the veils that shroud our good memory.
Breaking out of the sound cocoon…

Because remembering is all we have. We, the warm blooded humans, were initially given the heavenly gods and religions to civilize us (which didn’t turn out so good after all due to contamination) – and now the imposters are here among us and will dehumanize us, diffuse the ten commandments, eat the angel’s heart, tear off our wings and our virgin halo -and lustfully rape us of our humanity (and our omniscience)

We will then be served an A.I. God- Artificial Intelligence God. One God for the planet and all the trans- humans that are left populating it. We will have cyber umbilical cords, we will be infected with viruses and nano particles- we will feed off the A.I. God through these astral tubes-
IT’S finger down our throats, IT will fuck the soul right out of us once and for all. That is, for those of us who still have a soul at that point.

Her scream has gone out and it fills the air. At night, they wake me up and  tell me all of this. They are the ones who have come for aeons- we call them many things- we have seen them in many forms-but we can never know how their empty faces truly appear until the final moment of reckoning. I hope you believe me, because we can’t grow cold together ok?

Friends and lovers, we thought we found our nitch here? We didn’t find anything but servitude to the beast…clearing away the table every morning, feeding the limping dog. We thought we could do something meaningful even though we didn’t yet wash the sheets or clean the floors.
We thought we could find a loop hole and that we didn’t need to prepare, be disciplined, get up a little earlier…keep our promises and our word -we could learn a mantra or a ritual -and yet skip all the groundwork- the dirty places.
Well, let me remind you, the ax needs to fall.

Scraping the channel, I really need to see inside. So much for privacy and getting dressed everyday. Nothing is hidden, who are we kidding? Your body, your ally- the one who gets you everywhere is a transparent hologram. It’s delivering you to me in sparks of gray and yellow. The white dawn and the blue morning are lovers who only glimpse the body of the sky, that’s you.

And so I’m looking into this black bowl, and your eyes are looking back saying to me, “Did you know I’ll always be here” and I said, “Who are you?” and you said, ” I am your eyes”
and I went through and I saw everything.

We’ve really come a long way, we’ve pulled it together and we’ve graciously unraveled. They never thought we could make it this far, but here I am deep inside- wandering the moments when I saw you last, in the other place- my broken mirror.

I never meant to shatter what we had, and I tried picking up the slivers and all I did was bleed and nothing made sense. I lost my vision. I turned blue. I coughed up all those promises and jumped into my grave. Pour the earth over me now. Let me forget you, what I’ve done in the cracks. In the cracks between the hearts I break is where I go to find the essence. (it’s complicated)

And it’s the simplest thing, a soft smile in the mirror, a cracking heart, and velvet eyes. I’ll always love the soothing dusk when only the
outline remains and nobody and nothing is there. And I’m all alone in the womb turning toward the way out of here, rubbing the sides of forever my love. When you called my name, I really wanted out. This cocoon isn’t home anymore.

Because we know the ways of each other and we smell the dried blood and we know it was a tight squeeze. This witch looks deeper than hell to find you. Everytime I say goodbye. Everytime I lose your little pink hand-I get vicious, I won’t lie. My way out is through you. And this bowl has no bottom and you’re deeper than the well. And I’m drowning in my own spawning waters. I won’t ask “How deep is your love?” because it sounds stupid. But God only knows I’ve hit my head on the bottom twice already- diving for the pearl, for the key, for the entrance-
for your open eyes holding me steady.

It’s only a dream they say but I don’t know- If this is a dream, then what isn’t? I died and came back even though they told me, “Stop. It’s enough” But I just can’t stop loving you. And I can’t remember if you’re even real…or if you’re just a dream…I only know, this isn’t heaven I’m roaming.

So which way do I go with my long searching eyes? Holding the holy pinpoint of light. Piercing the woman who thought she was shut. Pulling out the man who said he loved her. None of this makes any sense as they lay across each other pawing at the rubber shell…

So maybe tomorrow will never come, I don’t know. The sound is broken. I shattered the wall and I saw and I heard. And it’s all written in code inaccessible to human processing- but everything has collapsed and there are many worm holes and star gates. I move with the ethers and I hide and I listen. They have been quarantined in this solar system by a higher order of beings-

and there is a thirty foot icy white and very angry lizard with razor sharp yellow eyes shaped like crosses- with little black needless in the center -and a twelve foot long whipping, barbed tail…he has a reptile army along with certain human and alien allies -and he is panicked because his time is running out and he is intent on destroying us all as fast as he can-and so the foretold war has begun…

We are not alone, but we are so lonely…behind the curtain we take off our clothes and only a naked shadow remains.

Who have I lost in this mess?

My bloody fingers are counting the days we have left…

until then,
my home is a broken cocoon.
Sharada Devi

18 thoughts on “my broken mirror”

  1. ok….so I have read this post several times, and there is nothing I can say…..but I feel it as if in a dream, so I went back and remembered this thing I wrote in 1987 that has this same sort of energy and I will share a part of it with you. The whole thing was about 12 pages long…about a scream that I needed to have. I eventually screamed, and then things got better. I do not know even a little bit what is going on in your life right now, but it feels pretty intense, and in my simple little way, I want to bring a little light. I know that place inside where we are ultimately all alone, and in ways it has become my best friend. On a lighter side, I also am getting the image of standing on a cliff near Big Sur looking at the ocean at night, and below there are seals calling out…ARK….ARK……ARK….. and then another seal calls out ARK…..ARK….ARK… Well, in a sense, that is what my reply is….just an ARK….ARK….ARK…. to let you know that in that dark place you are not alone.
    Maybe I have got it all wrong…..dunno…..the gist of this reply is “What ails ye, Uncle?” if you know what I’m sayin.
    but anyway, here it is… the Title is
    A Scream for Dusty Ann McGill;

    Scrape scraping into tomorrow we scrape,
    and we will scrape, scrape until our little toes
    are falling into the holes we have scraped from our hopes falling fast
    scraping until our hearts are cancerous vile organs beating madly now,
    fully involved with scraping
    and our little hands are sandpaper dry cornbread fried
    cardboard appendages scraping
    and our eyes are doll-like plastic bulges
    hazy bent elipses that jiggle inside when we scrape
    and we will fall into the course humus urine fertile gravel soil
    dying screaming for the life we dreamed about but never lived

    ….I had written you a story and we were reading it together
    down by the skeleton orchard
    rotting fruit trapped in the crook of your favorite familiar tree
    but you were not there
    and finally my sense of reason failed and there was nothing
    and I was lost and could not scream
    and I don’t know who I am anymore
    and I don’t know who “man” is, or what we are doing here
    foaming and grunting and bleeding as if it might matter
    and we are someday gonna make our plans for someday gonna and we dream of
    someday gonna, and someday gonna never comes and we never feel,
    and we are never alive, and I look into my little mind
    behind my little eyes, and my little body in my little room
    and all I know that I know is that I know nothing at all
    except that I know that I don’t know, I don’t know
    and I fell down to scream but I remembered when we first met……
    and this dark cloud is in me and around me
    and internal rain falls freely now
    and there is nothing to do that has not been done
    nothing to say that has not been said
    and the nights and days drift together like soil turned over by a plow
    falling back to settle and be replanted
    rootless death and rebirth are one flowing together
    into one big happening day after day
    and it’s all happening right now too much too fast
    and I am forced to see that I blew it really badly
    and as hard as I try I can’t scream
    and I wait out the storm until all things must pass
    and there is nothing there…..
    and I can’t face going in that black box that used to be home…
    fading stinking rusty water in the hollow basin fell
    runs open wide tomorrow and the next day and forever after
    and I try to scream but it won’t come
    and there is no ending an eternal now moment without you, and
    fuck it all in the gut, blown out the window shades pulled down tight
    on white cars…..
    and the silence begins to blow through the cracks
    and it gets louder, tight in the soul
    and I try thinking “AUNT TINY’S PRIZE DAHLIA”
    but that does not help me forget
    and slowly, with unstoppable force it begins
    like a still morning sunrise….
    A deathly quiet sound before the storm
    And the wind begins….the sky is dark
    And I start to get dizzy and rumble far-away angel for me
    Lightning flashes in the heart,
    Gaping useless teeth, dawn drool under sad
    Lonely lips without you singing
    The air goes in, falling free, filling up the holy hollows
    For the last time.
    It was you…and the limbs of your favorite familiar tree in the orchard
    The one that you named when we wept.
    The wind more….fast…fighting for control are the limbs now
    And my fingers white, drawn tight on your memory
    Knuckle beats out my heart, out stop,
    and the hairs on my head are weeping
    please………. Eyes bulging….
    The limb snaps, and the rotten fruit falls to
    the red clay sad urine fertile humus gravel soil..
    the wind has won and it begins now…
    YOU ARE NOT COMING BACK
    Dying lonely, irreligious, unconscious
    Black disease death screaming, moving past
    The life we had gone out no more to see
    One last time, past trying, no matter, good morning,
    Sick good bye scream..
    One gone at last goodbye scream for Dusty Ann McGill.

    1. Dearest friend,
      If the meaning or message escapes you- understand that it’s fairly literal- and no I’m not insane- and yet I am sure it can go all sorts of directions depending on the projection and mind set of the reader. It is not my life alone I speak of, it is all of our lives. This blog isn’t about my confessions or cries for understanding-or me technically at all really-
      it’s a bigger picture and it’s not all make believe. I MEAN what I say. The lizard is real as far as my understanding goes- And so is the A.I. God plan. I mean EVERYTHING and I write from the heart of everybody who loves me.
      God gives,
      Sharada Devi

  2. as i get older, my understanding has gotten more simple. be that as it may, it is what it is, and that is good. all is well, and thankful for your presence. peace, friend.
    love yourself. serve people. remember god.

    1. Yes, it’s simply that we are all one and
      universally we are simply fucked if we don’t end the narcissism and self preoccupation and start accepting the bigger picture we have created and participated in and that seeps into the crevices of all that we are.
      It is what it is, young or older. Age isn’t an issue just a preoccupation- and the new age concept that it’s “all perfect” as it stands, is a nice idea and I’m sue the Atlanteans said the same thing…

  3. The demons want you in the cloud. Don’t go there, don’t sign up, they want total control of your being. This is the war of the worlds, they are taking over our bodies and dehumanizing us. Look around and what do you see? nobody home and going to hell.

    Nobody knows Sri Sharada Devi like I do, and I will tell you this…. SHE KNOWS. She is always on the mark because she is the voice of the living golden light Maha KALI.

    She is the volcano and she is blowing up for all of us to wake up and change before we end up in a very tight womb. Will you have horns on your head in your next birth or tusks in your mouth? She is sounding the bell, this time is the end time of this program.

    She does not need help or your sympathy. She wanders in the burning ground of this world naked and alone like we all are but we just won’t face it. So lets get real before mother death shows up and it’s too late to figure it out.

    Only devotion and faith in your own awarness of awarness counts. This ego posturing is useless, the play of “Look at me” what about me is illusion. Our life is running out like grains of sand in the hour glass on Saturn’s belt. The blade is swift and sure and all our heads are on HER block.

    She is here for you to take the dive and swim in the sea of your true heart mind. Don’t hide the madness. The world is mad with desire and only real power will free you. What do you have to lose???? Stop the glamour of novelty, and just hone down on the Holy name. Do we really know we won’t wake up dead in the morning?

    This moment is the moment. This full moon is an open door. She is always right, because she is SHE who must be obeyed. We want her to be less so we can feel our own power, but we have none. We are helpless in her waves of deep water madness. She is kundalini, chandali kali vajra yogini who just keeps the lamp of faith.

    So don’t try and figure her out, she is beyond time and space. She sits still in this world of burning flesh, and dives deep into the ocean of your heart before it’s too late.

    She, Sharada Devi, sits in the desert sands, her lion head looks out at Sirius the dog star. Rahu is coming to eat the Moon, so free your mind and dance. Because She loves you.
    old man river, Bhagavan Das

  4. old man river……we gets it
    it used to be
    when the beloved
    was out
    THERE
    each creation that moved
    could not help but dance
    an enchanted mudra
    and each word spoken
    was divine symphony.

    Now that boat
    damaged by the rocks
    sits empty,
    bright paint and clever name
    washed away;
    small fragments of chassis
    given over wave by wave
    until there is nothing,
    No thing.

    Listen…..
    beyond the rocks and thrashing waves;
    a songbird courts the darkness;
    the heart of the formless night,
    inside
    faith mind.

  5. “So don’t try and figure her out, she is beyond time and space.”

    Well, that is comforting I suppose… I always feel frustratingly stupid reading these posts. Pretending I understand.

    …But a lion cub chasing a fly, imaginging it’s the real deal… I guess I should take solace in the fact that the mother is near, watching over, letting me chase with curiosity and innocence. I’m starting to realize it’s just a fly though.

    They say desire is the entirety- so maybe whether fly, antelope or the uncomprehendable, my chase is pure…

    Just don’t let the poachers get me.
    🌕

    Om Durgaye Namaha

      1. this

        in reading your blog, SD, I feel the undercurrent of emotion/energy and it feels like sweeping me “away”
        but
        i am typing this at work and my head is in a computer
        so
        when I bust through my work,
        i recognize,
        THat is the force of your, work, on the level I perceive

        It hurts my heart to abhor the world so I need to realize that it is not the point and the point is going through the world but recently, reading your thoughts, I thought or, felt, it was pulling me. It doesn’t matter; thank you

          1. finally, I hope you are ok or stable or, I don’t know.
            I have been thinking of you, very much, in at least a few moments since hearing about the hospital. AND I donated a little :))
            Shantihi

        1. Dear Wayne
          Of course, to abhor gods creation-wouldn’t do any good- but to love all things and beings- and yet stay honest with ourselves –
          stay open to the idea of what God might be-
          and how we got where we are…we’ve been fed a lot of info as humans- but is it true?
          We should go deeper into our heart and find out….🎈🎈🎈

  6. No, there is no loop hole.
    And preparation on a daily basis is vital.
    Age does not soften the need but makes for an even greater intensity.
    “The hour is getting late”
    i slip and need to re- gather my strength for the common collective need of all beings.
    i am not crazy,
    though those who are safe in their distorted nests feel uncomfortable when i speak my truth.
    i have experienced the presence of faceless ones and others that come in the night.
    Not always in dreams. Sometimes in light of day i feel a trace.
    This has been happening since i was a child.
    Premonitions and precognitions and voices that seem to come from the sky and not inside my head.
    There is a high pitched frequency of sound and a lacy veiled awareness that i can’t explain to anyone.
    A heightened anticipation that something more is happening.
    It causes me to sometimes linger long before finally eating.
    i like the quiet. As if i am waiting to hear something of value.
    The rest is so much cacophony.
    There are omnipotent forms that are not made visible to our human eyes.
    we are not yet prepared to behold them.
    They are both benevolent and malevolent.
    i do not have the deeper revelations Sharada Devi to which you are attuned.
    But i have an understanding of what you portend.

    1. Well then believe me when I say my darling,
      I have seen your wings and they are magnificent.

      Eagle light perfectly yours.
      The time is right
      for flames and feathers
      and a wild horse
      between your legs…

      That’s right Angel. Just for you.
      Flying high on the blazing stallion
      of dominion. Love is a fighter who
      always comes back for one more hit.

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