Poetry: Melody of Being Animate

Soul (black cat) Conversations | 30.01.20

I’ve been trying to understand the way trust finds its space centered into us, how it would feel to make the choices we do over our empathy and how that can make room for another way into us too, a new skill we didn’t know enough about is now something that has been done into us, we tore our layers back enough into careful heartbeats, pacing, how often is it you make these vision choices without its receiver, tell me, how did it feel, and if so what did you learn about yourself here, when you crossed paths with a type of higher self how did she taste, how often are we aware enough to sense that even we need to give ourselves the chance enough to make air for the way we move around us too, we are always closer to our soul then we may think it, this is also where we start to care for her wounds, its why we learn to nurture her teachings here too, when we look into us often we are able to give ourselves away to another’s inner child only to hear our voices out loud, only to feel lost before understanding why that is, empathy is our greatest catalyst of gratitude, learning to feed her is still a new kind of self love for me here, very quickly we know those who care enough are to never run away from within, most of the time when we are asking to be loved we are needing to be found, we do not ever mean from outside of our home first, these illusions in our 3D play on our fears and our ego fights back the only way it knows how only to learn you about what is still begging to be healed, when we surrender to face our mirror time and time again we are learning to purge we telling her our soul permission to ascend in our power, how long are you to run away from yourself until you understand that this type of love will never leave you, she is both lesson and fever, her heartache is not like another, be weary of her presence, give her too the time and space to give you the acceptance you have been starving from long before you knew its name, her love is a constant reflection of how you choose to love her first, she is a reaper extenuation of what is waiting for you ahead. -Do not look back any longer there is nothing left for her here anymore.

Poetry: Melody of Being Animate

Cup and Swords.

trigger one is a faced mirror we have been seen in us more then we think, how often we like to look in our own eyes so we can pass through these illusions, we like to take turns blocking each others space we are left to purge its feeling and release its expectation, so often flames test her will just to see if she is still here, to know about her cup, to keep her live and well between these two realities.

Poetry: Melody of Being Animate

Reasy. | 25.1.20, 26.1.20

Tell me how we sleep on wishing stars so often we forget about the sky, forget you don’t live outside of yourself first, come to think of it when was the last time you told love you love them, I love you, every time you say my name I can feel my breath tighten under my tongue And one, I love you the way I love myself enough, this care for you in doses of unbreakable honesty, I love you worthy, where and when it matters the most from inside of ourselves, so many of my secret efforts are carefully made for you to notice my Spring in late November, how often I colourfully bloom even now, I have fallen in love again, I have fallen in love flourishing, think I’ve found a heart as ready for me as I am, the type of soul devouring passion, both sceptics of happenings, both live inside of our heads Spring more than Autumn, his leaves are multicoloured, textured, we are beautifully flawed, remind him I am his season change, when I am without his amber I forget about what is in front of me, sometimes, he is a gentle reminder of the habits I have formed into scars that are not visible into fumbled hearts, ambers love feels like Autumn, feels like 26 degree summer, mindful complements enough to drown into loves arms, love is free, is sorry, is kind, love is candid, is unknowing, love is unconditional and agrees, love says more when I mention loves name into love, love likes to keep me warm, loves to pull me close for more, likes to speak to me in a way I have longed impatient about loves lips, is patient but persistent, love is a familiar hand to a better me, loves hands reminds me of albatross wings, soft, is an adoring multiform, love is the texture of ambered blanket leaves scattered at my feet, love is a home, is my tears, my heart, a whole, together we are elevated, -My home is yielding, we are now protectors of each other, together we are the stream of water, I swallow my love for you whole, it’s not often we get to meet such confident souls carefree enough, who love harder than Spring in Late November, can you call her name again she likes to hear the taste of her in your mouth, so much ease, so much kept soft hidden beneath kind eyes that like to not be seen, could see stars through all this sky, want to wish him all the luck he has yet to discover, the thing about hidden souls is that they are always still willing to determined to absorb about their luck in pleased smirks of beauty enough about themselves, about their hard love, how this means in their locked home, I love him and the planet he came from, I love him deeply sometimes I’m scared about all the ache, the sorry’s, he doesn’t even know we are 2 alike, I tell him look harder into me, look deeply into yourself, when you take ones soul and bring it together with another care about love you get a lucky love, how uncanny, after I feed my soul it is almost waiting patiently starved more, for you.

Poetry: Melody of Being Animate

Damned Dream/er. | 21.01.20

I tell them all I am fearless most black cat dreamers will know how I mean, this code done been tried to break on me the world seems so small from here, an existence of green and blue are we lost on what we have built all this time, the way I move is no misguided effort, I have come close to so much every time I am here, I am met with myself and a cable anarchist mind, freedom is a beautiful privilege, I dream alone, I am told the best place I also find solitude is in my own focus, I am milkyways away from my reality being present and centered has always gotten the best of my both worlds, when my eyes are open most of the time I am not here I am inside of me, when you learn to find abnormal solitude within yourself this way it can also easily be your quickest determent, not everything is a good distraction and not every distraction is detrimental, we are needed into places we did not even dream of falling into yet, so many lights years away up here and when we walk with our eyes opened we see inside of us, what does that say about our present about our unconscious consciousness how do we like to fly this high, a warm body with icy words, a flow of unbreakable failures, and an air about her grin, so often I have to remind myself who I am so I can do what I was fated to live before I leave this planet for good.

Poetry: Melody of Being Animate

A whole Avator. | 6.1.20

You know the more I think about it life is really interesting but cliche, so much of what happens is always a balancing measure of classifications, sass of what has already happened and what could happen, there’s so much we still don’t know about the world we breath into sometimes we don’t understand how we could also take this for granted in this reality it has been told we are temporary being roaming a vacancy with out a time span told, most if not more than it may actually seem like a freedom landscape of how you would like to use this body until you’re unknowingly passing, I’ve been hearing about the importance of teaching death and I remember when I was a child how I saw it however in the context of faith, I remember being so scared about it not because we would all one day pass, that I will one day pass without being remembered in a way that fulfilled my soul, I remember feeling if I die how do I want to be remembered for who I dreamt of being and became, so often I am in a dream state and I wonder about my two different realities and how they meet this way, I look at love and wonder if he sees my dreamy eyes alive in me too, so much to live for and again we are reminded the importance of taking care of our body well here, reminded again to extend it to our soul too, to be remembered into ourselves is the best kind of gratitude I want into my whole being first, I have chosen a life of growth and love this is my ultimate down pour, my final season always ends in softness and humility, here are some kind words heard to live by, give your life meaning, a friend is the sight of whom gives you joy, do not rely of hope, focus on a certain task and let all our efforts go to that task, the ability to pay attention, when we don’t depend on the opinion of others we become free, balance solitude and being in crowds, solitude retires in ourselves, and lastly the mind needs relaxation from time to time live a life worth living than a life worthlessly lived, you’re more than what you fool yourself to believe, we have all been found into ourselves before the only reason we feel lost from its feeling is when we loose within ourselves without balancing out our serenity tranquillity.

Poetry: Melody of Being Animate

Love decade 20/20 | 6.1.20

I’m still highly strung and excited about you, you make me feel lifted wondering how long this will last, I rearrange the even numbers in my mind and ours keep coming up, you tell me not to worry about things so much out of my mind you help me come back to life with your voice, your words admiring what is still unexpected if you’re still listening too, I’ve been meaning to ask you about your love each moment you keep reminding me how unconditional it is, hurt bodies are still learning to receive this type of love from others other than their blood, when I tell you I love you I am holding onto its intensity a little longer, I know how to love for the one who best deserves my whole, I am madly in love with love so when you tell me you love me back I can not shake its warmth my body is in heat about its feeling here the most when our eyes meet and you ever say it again I am learning to let you in some more, I tell him his patience with me is one of his ways about his twilight abundance, I say because you can only whole heartedly give when you don’t expect to receive, I tell him I love him and he tells me more, we are still learning about what it means to be whole together, we are two souls bound to have met, each memory he holds me close and I can not meet his eyes I can feel my body present here the most, when he pulls me in closer I can feel his love so much sometimes I can’t help my soul I smile at how silly happy another soul can add to your life this way, he is grounded into himself some more, and I burn into myself here too, our roots are learning to commit to memory, to get knowledge and skill by studying each other softly we allow each others self in turn in twin choose to stay and grow together this connected, when he is not here I am still found thinking about his softness, the way he speaks and how he loves, I close eyes when this intensity drowns into the sound of the rain in this late summer decade and I take a deep breath out.

Poetry: Melody of Being Animate

I have a question that only you can answer. | 3.1.20

Listen, I heard someone say personal, political, objective truth, data to information, information to knowledge, know knowledge into wisdom, listen to its way of as perceptible, a bias to, conformation bias to say you are correct is your type of evidence, what does it mean to be sceptic, to be convinced by data, means a meaning you’re less connected to what is objective of what is true, the truth in examples you’re less likely to make decisions to connect to the truth that will benefit you and those close to your first world, too much control is a waste of energy, string pulling your soul is not advised this is the probity you have also been looking for, letting go or doing nothing is seen as positivism, is looked down upon, letting it be, the power of letting go is hidden, passed down wisdom from generations of lost and found souls our mothers fathers and our fathers mothers, letting things take their natural course is not as hard as we may like to prove, perspective perception is a funny flipped coin, we watch what we question as what is real and wonder at what is really real, we are nothing without our vision, without our imagination, we are the black cat dreamers, awake and aware of things that string into our lit world, and you realize, you’re not desperately alone, the beauty about this all has always been you.