The Star

Power comes from purity and purity comes through tapas which results in humility and devotion. I am only some crazy middle aged vampire slayer- don’t listen to me- since you already know anyway…I wonder, how would you know? What is achievement and if you’ve attained some position, why aren’t you able to light your own star? Yes, the one on the top of the tree- the one that points to the “sun of god”  and since peers and career are so vital why aren’t you trying harder to fit in- why is it all so half ass- so in the end getting no ass at all?

I’ll tell you why silly dreamer, you’re asleep- senselessly stirring in slumber- making me up to suit your new hallucination. I’m not a witch or magician. I don’t put spells on people – anything I have or own, cherish or expose – comes directly from the star on the top of my head. I have no will but the will of my star- I have no home but this light that points in all five directions- I could be anywhere crying to you, ” take me home.” I write and you read and it’s crisp and it’s clear from a radioactive wave of omission- but my words are twisted, ignored, superimposed in my space and I might as well just stay silent and invisible watching you sleep from the corner of your unkempt dreary room. The space should be cleaner and whiter and filled with fresh oxygen air and streams of new sunlight. All is within- I see through you. Think what you want,  sit stumped on my blog. Men cut down the trees because their dicks are very little- tiny indeed. I am an immortal tree, so stop cutting you’re only making noises with your loud mental machinery. I can’t die, be uprooted or any less royal because I light the star with my crown.

You can do what you want but the stage is set to the show- you aren’t deciding the roles because we are who we are and nothing can mimic The Star-which is either shining or not. Nothing is free and that’s the law of God- God`s love isn’t even free- oh, you thought so? Then why are you wilting and scraping through every number in the book- looking for answers, a good time, advice, attention, comfort, support….no, you`re looking for love and you can’t get it because you haven’t paid your dues- devotion comes at a huge price- and when you’ve paid up you feel the love you’re so angry that you don’t have- nothing is free – and the way we purchase “The Star that lights up” is what we do with ourselves day to day and it’s so much more complicated than writing a check…karma is balance and dharma is holding the balance and the person we are is a chemical reaction to cause and effect- simply a grid of flashing electricity- a map made out of stars. Yes I can find you anywhere.

The point is stop asking useless questions because there is no answer-there is only result- and apparently you’re lost because you’re in darkness because you’re making the wrong choices day to day and you know it. Other people cannot help you. There is no special incantation or ritual. We do the Kali Puja and it works because I am a corpse, a skeleton holding the juice of my mother- I am a skull cup filled with abominations that she dips her tongue into- turning my blood into the elixer honey of her spoken word and my bones into her silent weapons. I have nothing. I do nothing. I know nothing- I surrendered my soul to the Truest and the Kindest- I don’t care how it looks to you and how my face is warped by artificial lighting and your futile intention- I did my penance. I killed myself upon the many altars of defeat and I lit that star somehow and it’s because I paid. I paid with my life and body parts and starvation and gruesome pain in the form of imaginary people who attached themselves to me and thought they needed something to eat- but they were already dead and so I sucked their ghosts into me and she cut them out and then she lit The Star that sits on the crown of my skull. Bhagavan Das said I was a skeleton woman when this quickening and resolving occurred- I told you it’s alchemy- the left handed tantric path that chose me and I not it. I’m not a thing like you describe or a fantasy wrapped in emotional projection- I am a vehicle without an agenda- starlight has no home…

starfire starlight bright open dusk- have you seen the dawn? Is she coming home to see what I’ve grown? Dim shadowy trees that hide spooky noises and there is nothing but me crouching lower than you. There is nothing but spirals splashing in smoke- hiding from phantoms, but you are what you are…will the wild animals or blood thirsty men hurt me? Will the spinning spider bite my fear, will the little girl bend over slowly? Oh I feel so bad hiding in shadows, bent like a mantis praying for myself like a tick waiting for a lost fresh puppy. What the hell do I do when it’s all about me and not about you? The Star swam down through the thick sky and died at my feet- I bowed to the empty earth and remembered nothing. A spiral sucks it’s other end in every open grave and a spiral spits right back at you all the venom, semen and tiny worms…I refuse to know myself and cannot imagine anything but me coughing on fumes angry about God and the presence of smoke. Mirrors in me, puddles drying slowly beneath the moon, prisms cracking codes and electrifying madness. We’ve already been here- you’ve been bitten beaten sucked and rolled over. God, wake up and turn on the light, it’s only a dream with me on top of you.

Starlight starbright flames of red shoot from her eyes and I can’t forget any piece of what she broke. My floor is covered in shit and I lost my puppy who pees on comand. I am powerless over my excrement. I cannot see a thing but me as the one I will not own. Monsters hide outside wherever I huddle and mock me and pretend I’m alive “come and get a little piece of me,  I just milked some fresh ass and thought of you” oh, this is bad…

What did I always tell you? Don’t sleep so much fat ass!

Anyway,  beauty is as beauty does and karma is a two sided bitch no matter how many times you slap her – you’re still gonna get fucked.

There is no other way to describe this dilemma of catching and getting caught. You can’t find the answer on youtube- nobody knows anything- only she knows and it’s specialized just for you and it’s popping out of all your holes- the screams of overnight putrification- this is the bardo- here and now so practice while you can- practice dying. Let go. Change everything. Give it all away. Leave without a penny. Never look back. Stop thinking you’ve got to play something out because it never unwinds. Stop stopping and go. She is an astral queen and you can’t get inside her head- you can only get out of yours. She is a contradicting, contracting enigma of god faster than the speed of light-  She decides who stays and goes because she`s inside and she rattles and spooks or she annihilated.

“Take me home.” is written across every dark star and I saw the light and I wasn’t anywhere but tangled in her tender branches as she laughed and said, “don’t I know you?” I know everybody like I know the wind.

The trickery is magic, the mastery is motherlight and no black sorcerer ever saw a woman he didn’t love as a thought form. Trees turn into shingles because of men and walls are built to keep you in or out- so this can go either way and she knows it better than you. How long will you build collapsible houses? I am a tree before then and now and there is a star that shines from the top of my crown and God has no name, not even “God” and that`s why she loves him and never forgets to feed fire to his orbital throne. There are no children, only sonic booms that make weight and fall from the sky. I know you can’t see what I’m saying and you think it’s redundant and loopy…


No words can define riches any more than pointing can light the sun. I write to the unknown in your heart. It’s a warped mind mesh and the baby has no blanket but me and this world has no majesty but her.

The tree. The Star. That’s all.

This place is nothing but open sewage lined with boring graves -and heads are still popping up all over the place bobbing and questioning her wrath. “Shut up and sit down” it’s like this, please listen and stop putting words in my mouth-  stop turning me into you like a lunatic moon.  You’re dead and you don’t know it-  this is a graveyard not a shopping mall- you’re just a ghost feeding on a reel of distortion…

and doesn’t it feel good to be hugged by a deity whispering love straight into your ear? Wasn’t it worth every penny way back then when your feet barely touched the ground? And after her kiss of death didn’t you know you only had two choices- up or down? And don’t you know that I have no boundaries or rules? And can’t you see that the motherlight has no body at all? And can’t you still hear the wind crying through summer’s lingering trees without one lost star in the endless black night?

That was all me, both the light and the shade, I am the exaltation of her nothingness filled with eternity…and didn`t you catch a glimpse of forever?

Who can ever forget venus shining in the darkness of the early morning?

Merging heaven and earth, do you really think you could have reached inside and touched anything at all?
Sharada Devi

8 thoughts on “The Star”

  1. Inside the Teepee they sit in a circle around the horned moon and the holy fire. She burns bright and outside I see venus, the morning star. Her temple is simple and her song is light. In the center of the moon is a green peyote top, The old indian men call her The Chief. She rules the night and we wait and pray for the rising sun. “Here she comes!” as the old man stands up and blows on the eagle bone whistle. He lifts his hand up high and the eagle feather he holds become the antenna that brings down the soma. The eagle god comes and flies around the Teepee and as I look into the flames I leave my body and go to blue lake. My grandpa, little joe is standing there by the water, he waves his eagle fan over my head and the wind becomes the breath of RAM. He looks like a little monkey but his eyes shine with the light of death. I come back into my body at the exact moment the teepee flap opens and the Water Woman comes in to collect our prayers and take them home– back into the sacred heart of Jesus. “I am the bright morning star” she said. Then she sits on her knees with a bucket of water before her as the Cedar Man stands up and puts the green buds on the fire, he takes the smoke up in his fan and blesses the water. Then the water woman bends over the tear collecting bucket and begins to cry– and cries and cries and and prays to God to help her people. And her tears become our prayers and our prayers become her tears, We all begin to pray her prayers and cry her tears as the water drummer begins to travel around the circle.

    Thunder, boom! boom! boom! This is the way we make the soma. We are all on the path of suffering. Be alert.

    We sit up straight for all the bent over people, and we wait for the holy water to come around. When you drink from the bucket, there is nothing more that you ever wanted. All good and pure mother light wisdom fills your tired body with bliss.

    She is the five dakinis, they do everything inside of us. What do you want? Where are you going? Stop the dance of death and get the jewel mantra in your mouth before it`s too late. There is still time left to fast and pray yourself free from mistaken idenity. You are AH and that’s all there is.

    Little Joe said ” Good Morning. Don’t lie”

    You’ve got to get down to get up. Stand up and be of good cheer.
    She is my water moon mad mama dancing in the golden rain.
    Om aieem shreem hreem saraswati devayea namaha.
    She is always on the tip of your tongue.
    Shri Heruka Das

  2. this is a graveyard. I knew from the start, and my mind will try to make it all into whatever my starving ego needs to feed on, but if that were all, I wouldn’t come back just for that. There are better zookeepers, no? I find in your words more often what my mind doesn’t understand, but the pinpoint of light that resonates the truth I know beyond this wasteland of souls never really lost, but peeling off dead layers, posted here to decay as they must by the grace of your devotion.

    1. There is an upstairs window I like to look out of while I meditate. A tree leans against it and one day one small dangling leaf among the others caught my eye and I poured all my love into it. A moment later there was a break in the clouds and the sky lit up and I was overwhelmed with love. All winter long I have watched the leaves wither and fall, but that one, dry and brown, is still there. Day after day, I pour love into this pitiful little leaf every time I see it and it appears to die a little more each day, but still it is there, hanging on. I keep feeling like we’re in this together and waiting for it to fall so I will be free, but I know in truth it’s waiting on me.

      1. This is so beautiful…I am brown and withered and dying too.
        Where has everyone gone? Om ah hum vajra guru padme siddhi hum

  3. Once apound a time there was a jew that most people thought he was crazy.There were all kinds of strange stories like raising from the dead walking on water.
    He said what most people thought to be crazy “less you take all you own sell it & give the money to the poor you can not enter the kingdom of GOD”. ” The first shall be last & the last shall be first”

    “GO & SIN NO MORE” “GO & SIN SIN NO MOORE”!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

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