rumbling smears of me

“He never held my hand
He never kissed my face
He shingled me
Boarded me up
Made me lean to one side
Deep in the hollow
While the rest
cease creaking
There is a lifted board
Where I breath from
I remember when I used to be
Lifted-like the wind I break”
Maybe I’m not explaining myself or maybe I’m too vague. Maybe my space between this world and the next is too thin and I’m changing directions.
Maybe you can’t read the twilight language and maybe you don’t want to. Maybe I’m crazy and wild like the useless wind that blows both ways.
Maybe Her heart was breaking and maybe He just felt helpless. Maybe He couldn’t fix Her and maybe She was cold. Maybe He thought about Her in ways too awkward to reveal. Maybe She held Her hand to Her heart and pretended it was Him. Maybe I’m mad. Maybe He’s violent. Maybe I’m a fire and He’s a tree that won’t stop growing. Maybe She’s the flower He picked and maybe He’s the tender moonlight. Maybe I don’t know a thing except that all I think about is you….
My other side was aching.
I could feel Him,
but I couldn’t see where He went.
So I went around, only half alive,
hurting while the rocks were thrown.
“Where is He hiding and how can I get there?
When I see His face I’ll know him…”
(but I never turned around)
He was behind me in the dust I stirred
In my footprints and in my deeds
He was calling me from everywhere
In the only way He could
stopping me, engulfing me
overshadowing me
right where I stood.

She stood there holding His heart
in Her bloody hand.
“put it back!” He cried.
He had a hole in his chest
(without Her)
He was only half alive.

What can I say about these pictures of you? The ones I stare at but cannot define. The sun just came from behind the clouds and the light streams from your eyes…

But now you’re dead and I never knew you. I searched and I called and I beat pillows to death.
I closed my door and screamed and cried at the You I’ll never find. And it doesn’t even matter because I’m over you. You’re not a tower or a shrine. You’re grains of bone with blue flecks that used to be your eyes. You’re in a vase that’s been sealed shut because they were fighting over who would decorate their mantle with your remains. So She sealed you in there and She married someone else but I never did and I never left you. I was the only one you called to and I was the only one you visited in dreams.
You told me no one could see you but me. I wish I wasn’t crazy and hearing voices. I wish I could just stop hearing the cries of the dead. How it’s too late and how they can’t be satisfied not even in the hereafter.”Does anyone have a cigarette?”
That’s the kind of things they search for in the mix of black and white- in the place where you’re only an echo exhausting memories- you’re only a voice without a hand or an eye. You’re only real for as long as I remember you. It’s a huge burden for me to bare. I think you were moving things around in my house. I think you heard me talking about you. I’m sorry nobody loves each other and my brother is encapsulated in your rage and addiction.

We both feel like murderers I think…
me and Him.
I know you’re on the other side and that’s why I can’t find you here- except for the men I follow-
the men who beat your drum. The men who have death in their eyes. I can’t find any other I’d rather love but you in another. And this is how I do it. I tempt the snake to find me and then I hunt Him. And then I hear you but only for a moment when He looks my way and sees I know.

It’s not as hard as it sounds to do this.

When I was little you were never there and when you were I was mostly afraid- you were big and loud and drunk. You were stuck in Vietnam, still killing and leaving your body. Still at the whorehouses and playing The Doors with tears in your faraway eyes. You were threatening and I thought you would hurt my dog. I wrote you poems and was perfect but you were someone who wouldn’t touch me -but only look at my growing body and yell at me to put a shirt on when I was 9 and still liked to be topless like my brother. You told me I was nothing, nobody -when I said I would be a millionaire.
You said, “do you think you’re better than me!”
I really have no idea what you meant. So I’ve been looking and I know I’m nobody and I know you loved the Ocean. I wish you could have been there -at the Ocean- instead of the little dark room in your trailer when you died.
I don’t think they should have zipped you up so fast in the blue bag either. I never forgot your last face when I watched you stop breathing and kissed your forehead goodbye.
I was floating but I was able to reach you somehow.

And so I remember every song you loved and how everyone has moved on…I remember how you laughed so much as you got older and how much you loved your dog. What I remember most though and what haunts my heart is I remember your pain and your fear most of all.
I meant to take it away….we all did. Every one of us living in Me.

“touching nothing
she flipped the lid
I rolled over again
holding still
pieces remain left
on the floor
sticking, they touch me
and don’t mean a thing
sky over matter
endless ground
swimming parts of home
floating towards me
it’s wide and it’s white
shimmers the moon
on the water
ceaseless remembering
of the memories that left
sinking to the bottom
of the world”

Don’t we have more profound ways of occupying time and space besides playing battle of the sexes? Nobody is sexy. Everyone is just a falling piece of wind. Wind howling through make believe skin and bones. Wind blowing us up and making us big and hard or soft and limp. It’s not so huge, this little preoccupation we call “hooking up” it’s not so obvious why everyone is doing it and who they’re really hoping to find in the other person’s pants. We’re solving the unsolvable and that’s why boys and girls are fighting. We’re breaking the bone in all the wrong places. (and yes, looking for love in too many faces)

The sun is always hoping the moon will be here soon. The moon is always hoping the sky will be ready. And we are always shoved in a corner, I can’t tell if I’m hot or cold. Who are you?
Can we do this? Do you see me now? How about now? Can you hear me now? How about now?
I don’t know how to talk to you in any other way
than this. I think I mean a different you than just
“You” it’s the ONE in there. In there grinding away, trying to get results. Groaning and gasping and accomplishing very little when you aren’t in love with the same person. The one beneath or above you. The One who makes sure that no matter what happens, the bed is made when you leave the room. Get it?

I wish I did. I wish I got it.

How to fade into you.

How to disappear into the morning rays of sun. How to walk into the sunset, hand in hand, and not all alone. We lost the One we followed and now we can’t stop looking because we don’t have directions and the light is growing dim.

As night approaches the winged goddess appear barely above us like ribbons in the silver web. They sing and they beckon. They enchant and beguile. “I know He’s in there somewhere.” “She’s just around the corner waiting”

maybe tonight I’ll meet The One.

And it doesn’t get any easier because they’ve got us under their spell. The furies and the foxes.
Snakes slithering through the grass. Dancing maidens in the field of poppies. I knew you were there waiting for me.

Inside Her eyes. Inside His eyes.
Born from love and beasts with weapons
Born from remedies and potions
Born from crystals and daggers

Born from whoever we were looking at.

“Air was everywhere
If air was emptiness
I took a breath of space
filled with air my
tube of life
exhale deflate
exhaust the sky
rumbling smears of

So move over playboy. I’ve been from cover to cover. Languid and sullen there are no more beauties in the pages for me to hold.
No more screens to entice me.

I was born from a Virgin and so were you.
God is the One I died for
and I did it because He died for me

Holy Father and the Only One I see,
This is the end of false goodbyes.

Where daddy stands in the doorway
and mommy is still the nightlight
pretending we want something else
when all that we want is each other
masquerading as another…
so ride the snake to the ancient lake
with me and we’ll find what we were
looking for…

Sharada Devi

19 thoughts on “rumbling smears of me”

  1. Beautiful 🙂

    You are like a tender baby
    Crying out for love, crying out to be loved
    I am here for you my darling
    Come lie in my arms as I gently stroke you
    All will be well
    Everything will be alright


    John Kosswix

  2. i emotionally wrested with whether i might respond to the eloquent,/ exquisite, / sad / sorrowful yet sanguine lines that you posted today.
    “i want to try to speak, but i can’t relate”
    although i can…
    but only reflected through a glass darkly.
    Choosing not to fully share my own truth and encounters as they may relate to yours.
    Although Groking in fullness the intention and realization of your experience.
    Mine is similar but different. felt and understood, but in a pattern fashioned and cut from a different cloth.
    And i began to purge in my own way, but reeled my self in seeng that it diminished your own out-pouring of perfect fluency.

    so i will offer this old – time song that seemed somehow apropos …

    “Let us pause in life’s pleasures and count its many tears
    While we all sup sorrow with the poor
    There’s a song that will linger forever in our ears
    Oh hard times come again no more

    ‘Tis the song, the sigh of the weary
    Hard times, hard times, come again no more
    Many days you have lingered around my cabin door
    Oh hard times come again no more

    While we seek mirth and beauty and music bright and gay
    There are frail forms fainting at the door
    Though their voices are silent, their pleading looks will say
    Oh hard times come again no more
    ‘Tis the song, the sigh of the weary
    Hard times, hard times, come again no more
    Many days you have lingered around my cabin door
    Oh hard times come again no more

    ‘Tis a sigh that is wafted across the troubled wave
    ‘Tis a wail that is heard upon the shore
    ‘Tis a dirge that is murmured around the lowly grave
    Oh hard times come again no more

    ‘Tis the song, the sigh of the weary
    Hard times, hard times, come again no more
    Many days you have lingered around my cabin door
    Oh hard times come again no more”

    1. I backtrack and relive for the sake of all.
      Everyone is me and everyone hurts.
      Please always feel free to get it out-
      free yourself from the little pains and
      also help others to see you- purge the psyche into beautiful art!
      I’m not in turmoi it’s my art
      I remember and honor the girl who knew him.
      I became Him now and He’s forever mine.
      I love you in your grace.

      1. FROM SHANE:
        i’ve lost my mind…hungover tired not eating properly…the sun getting to me
        you think its about you…reading things that arent even there….
        leave her alone dude…get away…stop it….you’re sick…you’re obsessed
        she doesn’t love you…shes crazy anyway…you’re going to go broke just throwing money away
        that last blog was about her dad not you…don’t read on the blue bus then…our mystic well runs dry quickly…you have to work hard and long to fill one bucket…hers flows endlessly…shes better at it than you…shift the tide…seek refuge in exile…the goddess isn’t real…nobody can talk to dead people…its only wishful thinking…you’re lonely shane…you’re an alcoholic…you need help…whats the help gonna do anyway…i’ve talked this out before…i’ve gotta overcome this mediocrity…try harder get inspired…write something good for once…you’re like 3 for 78…gotta do better than that…she has weird daddy issues…at least she had a dad…her love and fear of the brute masculinity made her grow tall in the way that she did…talk dirty to ken again…he calls everyday even when you never do…she taught you how to set people free…show them who they really are…seduce him give him what he really wants…death before dishonor…vietnam vets are the best…they didn’t have the internet iphones and crumple zones…they had to learn to serenade the old fashioned way with wine…if not they’d be eaten alive…so they drank and didn’t go to aa…loved the dog and beat their wives… kissed you with sharp whiskers and beer breath… a firm handshake and a loud voice still haunts you from the grave

        1. Shane I’m glad you’ve finally lost your mind. It’s really been getting in the way!
          write it all down…

    2. I do want you to tell us. If you will.
      I encourage sharing and emptying the content
      of this mystery into the light.

      1. We use our emotional memories as fuel to
        create and destroy. Create beauty and destroy ignorance. Let’s not beat around
        the bush…or lurk because I know
        you’re there. Please release the past and share your soul so that we all might heal
        the wound covering the mother light.
        I tell my stories for others not as my own
        self help therapy for the world to see blog-
        I dredge the dark of past and make it matter.
        I make wine out of grapes.
        Please join the movement because together
        We can lift the veil that keeps us all in bondage- thinking we’re diseases or have something to hide. We have nothing to hide
        only love to give to the light.
        How could I have daddy problems? How could
        I have any problems at all now that I’ve defined enhanced and made magic for you
        my beloved Avalokateshvara.

        1. Today I go to the sacred fires to burn away all the past wounds/hurts/old old stories passed down through from blood line to blood line (hers his mother father sister brother mine wealthy poor black white) that forge a prison or any wall (small or mammoth) within and outside — I go to the Mother Light’s leaping fire for us all kneeling before Her carrying with me everyone (those who continue to stay in bondage and those who seek freedom and those who are truly free). I throw this body on the hot flames and the flames dance and burn away all and witness the beauty and truth rising forth from the transmutational ashes.

          1. like Baba says,
            “you have to name it to claim it”
            everyone loves a pretty fire that burns away
            sin and everyone loves a mantra that can
            make it all go away.
            But until we get real about the crutches and
            shackles in our lives- it’s all talk and smoke. The show is still just the show even with roses and flames- You know what I’m saying and what I mean. You might disagree,
            and think you can burn that too- but he’s in the other room Megan and he’s your husband.
            We cannot go around the way we go around….
            Isn’t that right?

        2. From SHANE:

          do you know what i did last night…i went to a whorehouse in houston but listened to the goddess speak to me and understood that it was wrong and that it would be best before i commit the sin to leave which idid…she said go eat those oranges not the pringles or youll wake up fat from the beer with a pounding headache so thats what i did…you know what i thought about the other day? That if im asked what my favorite song of all time is that i should say the end by the doors and maybe not lament by the cure…theres a lot more that i dont have time to get into right now but its seems so strange…your face briefly pushes through the dull murk in my dreams…everything you say…how can that be…its just a coincidence…you both just think about similar things…the other day when i said that i love it when you cut me…you had just finished writing talking about cutting me open or something like that…

          i noticed that women have been smiling at me all day and teasing me…making playful little cuts…making me see that im nothing without them

          1. Divine Mother Light always with us,
            whispering which way to turn,
            wherever we go.

  3. smears of me
    that is where i be
    at this late and early hour
    depending where you might now be
    this has NOTHING to do with my former post

    and yet intrinsically it’s a furthermost foreboding
    of what is yet to be

    we are a trap
    it used to be a trip
    and now we find that it’s just not me
    in a catch of what we use to be.
    But who am i ?
    i am nobody.
    the one that is called upon yet soon expected to hear and see
    to act upon but sill kept in silent captivity.
    i am a soldier in the scheme of some grave battle at the dawn.
    but when the swords are executed no evidence is drawn.
    i am a second generation
    of pathetic pantheon
    we try and TRY to execute the GREAT ESCAPE
    of that grand and cosmic plan.
    all is left for us is to chant and pray.
    to ask the divine disclose the scheme and help us find the way
    back to that real place from which i think we fell away.
    from that star realm perfect galaxy
    where twilight language was the norm.
    i think that is the place in which i was conceived and fell a and was truly formed
    some eternity unbeknown to me .
    except in reverie
    Because although this looks like heaven i wonder if it’s hell
    If that is the disguise please entreat me and help me so i may not go astray.
    if that is so please assist this one so that what ever that is holy or is not
    please help me find a better way .

    i got caught tonight by my answering the phone.
    got caught into being the victim of a subterfuge that was not my own
    i hesitated but out of love but was drawn in like a captive sub-terrainian slimy/ skim / scum entity
    into another generation born.

    1. Dear Maria,
      It’s beautiful that we turn our hearts inside out. That we know the way out of hell
      will take so much more than we thought- more
      than mantras and prayers and deities guiding. It will take us tarnished by lies
      to come out of hiding.
      The way is through beauty. The way is through finding and making beauty around within and throughout. Beauty from the pain.
      Dredge the bottom of our hearts- and show
      our love how beautiful everything about us is. Not just what we cherish but what we despise- the beauty is depth in our churning eyes. Tantra- alchemy the magnum opus.
      It’s us. Let’s make it happen and be the One.

  4. Rumble and thunder on so we can be with the holy mother in union where all time stops and there just is. Fill me up with the pain – I know heavens dimensions I visit them, it’s easier to see it all when you just are. Born of cigarettes alcohol and cocaine in nineteen eighty whore the beast spit out pure love with out a sound. Ah. Ma. Hum. It’s clear to me the drive by piercings. The stop and go scars from the wayside of him. The impending, great teacher. Thank you death. Thank you Kali. Ecstasy.. Pure crystal light.
    What a fucking loser.
    God IS great. 🙏🏼

  5. I’m at a plateau in life – I need to go within. I’m my own worst obstacle.

    Scoundrels all around closing in. I can feel their breath. I must remember my own breath – the windlife from the source. Can’t stop the fight I can’t stop this divine union..

    Right where I need to be all the time perfectly suffering. Life is abundant but never complete. Mother light making up my heart making up my thoughts – making up for diseased past. I saw the blue ball bouncing around the room it was dim and i was tired.

    You looked so disfigured in my dream like a disguised blob of closest to me. I am waking up.

    Go clean up your Snapple caps – Clean up your path. Clear up the mind go within. Clean up the heart. Clean up the heart. The pasts primordial black rays fueled with lust and desire transform into white crystal mountains of truth and light for the progress of all in this time.


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