my mother is everywhere


She bent over and picked up everything. She looked at me and smiled. I thought I had control. She pretends she’s leaving. She never does. There were many pools of water. In this place like a dream and he was beside me. She wanted to take him even though he was mine. I want to be here for you. But I’m not that great. You make me that way. This is really dark. Where your light goes. Where you go for me. Obsession. These pools of water. Which one should we choose. Black mirrors. I had this strange dream about last night. I don’t know what was going on but it wasn’t just about you. My mother is everywhere. Still. That’s all I know. That, and she lives in dreams and she takes everything and pushes it into these pools of black water. It did hurt. I don’t know who you are. Maybe in me. Maybe not. I saw obsession. Pulling. I was once innocent until she got inside. I hope I don’t do it to you too. She is lethal. A definite fatal attraction. She’ll pretend it’s you. She’ll grind the death out of your eyes and back into hers. There were other women who were not me. That was the original sin I suppose. They all sat at the big table and the pools surrounded us in a labyrinth made of inescapable hallways that led to private rooms with these pools. The pools had identities, more obvious than even mine. Some were covered in cage, some in chains. Some slanted down, going underground even deeper. Some were very large and would whisper my name. At the table you looked at them all. She was the vortex. She didn’t care about me. It was you who must be taken. And to you I disappeared. And it was just me left with the pools and a pair of eyes that would look back at me and say, “I don’t know.” And we would move to the next room. Where are you taking me? You said, “We need to get you out of here.” It’s the truth but she won’t have it unless she’s the taker. And I thought we were leaving but we had to stay. I seemed to sink deeper into this skin that wasn’t even mine. Along with the other nameless women, I held onto a fantasy of choices. I have no choice. You left with her. You dismembered me. You didn’t even wait for me to drown in any pool of black water. I am a face you know. With eyes heavier then lead. I am not a hallway. Or a tunnel leading out or into anything. I am beneath it all. Sadly breathing in the room. The room where we sit before everything happens. She bends over and she picks up everything and pours it down her dark throat. You don’t know me. If you did you’d hear her laughing and you’d know I am inside. It’s so intoxicating I know. It’s spellbinding even. Pushing into you hard, breaking my face into a thousand slivers of mirror looking back. “Which one is she?” I know it’s hard and you can’t fuck them all, there’s no time like the present. I am the original sin behind it all. Only because it’s me you want, not a dream. Only because I captivate the purely death bound. Dying because we went inside and started moving things. Picking up dead bodies, opening doors. There is this labyrinth. Which looks like any other ordinary room until you go inside and it goes on and on forever. A maze of hallways leading to these pools like they’re gods and they are. The made us shallow, they made us deep. And we can’t escape anymore because we know what she holds in this black water that never moves on the surface. The mirror we stare into and wonder. “Could I die here?” Of course we always say no. And go back to the hallways and tunnels for more choices. Then at a point in the night we came to a crossroads and your eyes, which were near me, became inflamed and I realized I didn’t actually know you, or me. That’s the dark part. The pool was there. With waves and winds and clouds filled with thunder. I became confused and said, “But we’re inside not outside.” And you said, “What’s the difference, she’s everywhere.” As if I had forgotten, which I had. I don’t know me like I know the mystery I enter. Room by room. I don’t know me even though I’m wet and black. I don’t know me even though I breath her breathe as I move. I don’t know me because she’s deeper than even that. Taking you. It’s so evil. Why I am in this. No one has ever lived to say. How you got here, why your eyes are so dark when the light shines from whatever storm is between us. I don’t know. It all seemed civilized until now. She’s like that. It’s as if we can never know what she’ll do no matter how many times we meet her like this. No matter how high we lift her toward the ceiling. As if there were one. I know only one thing, we aren’t safe. Not as long as this is her address and not ours. And these pools, still, black mirror pools of trance inducing waters, float better than we do. Do you see me, where I’ve gone. Back to you as if I could move in any direction when I cannot. I can only go down which I know makes you uncomfortable, which I’ve never been able to understand. I am writing about a subject that writes about me. This personal void. Childhood trauma. Lifetimes of sacrifice and victimhood. Sexual healing disguised as whores who stand as still as mirrors at the crossroads between worlds above and below holding signs that say, “Read me. I wrote this. At the bottom of my black water.” And we ignore them, pull up our pants and move on. But I never did. I kept myself naked because I was one and seeing is being and knowing is going and blood is thicker than water. Of course it’s what they all say. But last night was thicker than blood. It was heavy. And yet she lifted it all. Maybe through you, maybe through me. Like I said, I can’t be sure. Not like this. I only know what I dream and how I interpret your face in the mirror of my mind. As far as a place filled with hearts, that’s the reason, not the confusion. I knew you wouldn’t choose me over her because you couldn’t. She’s too deep, embedded. In me where she comes from. And in you, where she goes. I know I am senseless. Just watching you as you study my surface wondering if I am the one. This time. The pool that leads to you. Obsession. My mother is everywhere. And I don’t know what to do or where to go. We are never alone. Contrary to what I’ve been saying it’s true. She is in you.

And in me. Sharada Devi


13 thoughts on “my mother is everywhere”

  1. It’s hurt that you say, and I won’t go away- that’s me, the pain and light or fever. I am lighting myself on fire as I type, I pour the gasoline, at least U can see it written on me if you can see me now.

    I see you and it hurts. That’s what it is about, hurt, willingness and the past. Sick.
    It heals to feel that it isn’t just you. Heals the grip of loss of control. There’s nothing I can do. But be willing. I am afraid of the truth and this is about how we both are, ok? And I’m not going anywhere and you can just deal with that, because you can, even when I can’t…so much hurt, dark pools, you say…surrounded, you say. God, I’ve said. Like I’m swimming and don’t know how. Because I didn’t know I was under… what is this, my mother? “I don’t know” but I have to -a hundred suns, coming at once
    I don’t know. It hurts and I’m here
    creepin through the fucking creepiness with my heart. Body, knees, and laughing face. Until it all falls. This is heavy and I am light. Dark fills my heart and takes the taker, to where she can see the face she made. It goes on and I am cold and warm because we are both in the storm.

    1. Both lit by black light. Held by black tonglen. Breathing the breath of black dust.
      Storm on the horizon, inside the black movement of light as it grows itself into
      a black flower. Inside the sun. Black is
      like gold. So many ways to see the shine.
      Light is like dark. So many ways to know me.
      As you inside out. As me either way.
      We go into this, whatever and wherever
      she hides making us love her anyway she can.
      She has all the lines. That’s for sure. Written down low…find me. This seed we call mother.

  2. It’s the sacred Cow. Her babies swept away from Her immediately after birth. Sacred Cow…cries..mourning….soul aching for her babies…She is in a dark hell without anyway out! She is raped by human fist covered with the semen of machine raped bull. Her babies are born and gone over and over and over and over and over and over again. WHY does she not fight back? Kick the SOBS. Death would be better than continuing on this psychotic pathetic wretched loop of hell. Demons touch me…they tap me on the shoulder as I drink my wine and have a slice of cheese. HOW DARE YOU, they say. And I agree…so I pour myself another glass of wine and cry. I cry because I am part of the fucking black hole loop. If I do not get my shit together and stay in the LIGHT….I will end up on that treadmill….of death…used for a BigMac…or Quarter Pounder. FUCK…I am on a treadmill…what goes around comes around. SO maybe all those Cows are Humanz addicted to sweet innocent four leg-eds, REINCARNATED… FUCK. I have seen the light and turned my back over and again…I know….and I have gone BACK to the dark side so many times. I fear that my being will have to come back as a dairy cow. I sit and wonder……I am not dumb, but I sure do act that way sometimes….(A LOT?). I lived in chaos and drama for so many years (48)…and found a peaceful resting place while I am still on this sacred Mother Earth. I am settled and have been happy for the most part for ten years. SO why does my comfort feel so uncomfortable? I know why….because I have seen the LIGHT…and I know that I have been taking the easy road. I do “enough” to help a lot people around here…and my Ego tells me that’s enough….but I know the Truth about that Ego. It goes deep…I need to dive deeper….I am smart…and I know it. I have a big heart and I know it…but keep that fucking EGO out of it. RIght Ego is head…..I don’t give Head (LOL) a lot of credibility these days….but I guess it is a fine line…a balancing act, right? Heart On’s don’t get Head. I cling to Spirit and Light like a life raft….I am at SEE…clinging. When the storm comes, I want to be at the Ready. I have NO idea how on earth THIS came from reading your blog post.

    1. I think I know. How it happened. You’re on the cosmic line. Listening deeply. Don’t be so hard on yourself. Have love for you. Stop beating yourself up about wine cheese and comfort. Be at peace in the loop, to release the anguish of the hold. The self deception comes from all sides. Always saying you’re wrong, you’re not enough, you make mistakes.
      Good bad judgment- is a loop. Let go. Love yourself and stop dwelling on whatever you think righteous is- you are it. The light- the light the love the dark semen of creation. And so, breath and be and let all the mind tangles fall. Plus, I’d drink your milk and be thankful (if you come back as a cow I mean and I come back as a milk drinker or your baby) I already am. Hold the love. Relax. In the light of your own grace. For us all. Who you are. Deep Soul Flower. Mother Light Warmth. Moo! And be free! We don’t have a choice, just a neurotic mind that beats us like an angry man. Don’t go there. That’s the only mistake, nothing else. ❤️Love YOU❤️ It’s a loop too…🌈☀️
      The love loop comes from the exhale. Let go

  3. Oh shit…I know why I wrote what i wrote….I just listened/watched your video “calm abiding : surrender to being”…that you did in late 2015 on YouTube. !!!!!!

      1. Thanks Sharadadevi. Always trying to be a “good girl.” I also don’t want to part of hurting anyone or anything. I love cows. I even love cockroaches and spiders. No joke. Anyway….thank you again for your kind words, they really help me feel better again. I am SO SO SO SO looking forward to chanting and dancing and praying and meditating and CRYING with you and Bhagavandas….so much love I feel for both of you………..THANK YOU FOR BRINGING US TO our own hearts….

        Love, Marty

        1. Yes, we stop by hurting ourselves. By always being down on ourselves. By being unkind to the only one we have in the mirror. You are the cow, so pray for the light, for the one who gave the cheese. For the grapes that made the wine.
          For the aching heart that got it all backwards.
          The love is within. Cockroaches spiders and all.
          It’s too easy, it’s so hard. Look inside for the one you see. She is everywhere, you. ❤️
          Yes! See you soon!!!☀️ Earth Mother Marty!

          1. Ah yes…..the love IS within. I AM THE COW! Does the cow judge? I do not want to be the Judge any longer. It’s exhausting. I just want to shine my light and be light…like a feather…that goes where ever the wind blows….counting the days down now….I checked the weather forecast and it looks to be sublime! of course it will be sublime whether or not the weather will just be what it is…LOL.

            Hugs and Love ….

          2. the cow has big soft eyes and only watches.
            The cow doesn’t judge but finds peace
            in the soft grass of God.
            The sun comes and goes and the cow is still.
            The cow suffers solid and they take her babies while she continues to watch and
            her eyes shine even in pain.
            Because cows are life and life doesn’t die
            but goes on into the sky and the earth.
            Crying is the way. No judgement in sorrow.
            Love, truly in the earth. Shines it’s sorrow
            from the Sun. We are light. I mean happy
            despite it all, because we can only be it,
            not separate and think. But know.
            It’s always ok. We will be free.

    1. ❤️❤️❤️My love for you
      Inspires. Me and you
      It’s how we give and
      make light from pain❤️❤️❤️

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