Poetry: Melody of Being Animate

The undead. | 16.11.26

Russ sang (2021) “Misunderstood, you only see
Pieces that fit your view of me
Your mind is made up, my hands are tied
Misunderstood time after time.”

I missed this, grape dreams high as grape trees we are the undying melodramatics that sit in the evening sky to hear if the world sounds different now, we see so much of its life on our bodies, the lines that curve our palms to the light hairs that gaze at the afternoon brief sun, welcome to Spring. During this time of year, we are most of everything and anything at once, we prefer to be called Spring in late November. I can hear the chants louder now, I can listen to our bubbly life crush like waves against the currents, I tell you I can feel it all. I mean I can listen to how my hearts feelings break with every gas-lit, I can feel my mind see the shuttering of possibilities of loosing who I have worked so hard to become at the sight of undying love, to watch as the operation in me the 33 reason just to be forsaken and granted otherwise; have we not died enough? I often ask myself now was there anything to save if there wasn’t anything wanting to be saved, burning more Cole, more Russ and Russel we have been finding ourselves too long they say to me -you have been anything but what I want you to be-, screaming with their mouth closed I think to say screaming with my mouth open. -I am no one but myself first-, reciting citation of nothing but mad mouths and not my mouth we have not been each other around each other, we have been hesitating to bare truth knowing this will not work for us. Our love does not stand a chance against our truth,- and so I ask, have you heard of the Spring in late November? Have you read her words and yielded their power for truth in front of fear? Have you witnessed to brave Spring bring back November from the wake of realms to present then you have not lived long enough to witness the rebirths of deaths. -A fearless spirit guided by untamed compassion.- There is nothing to fear here -I tell her, love.- Loves come in great forms and leaves a Spring in late November, we are the prophecy of its legend.

Russ sang (2021), “I’m tired, I’m tired, I’m tired, I’m tired, I’m tired
Of overexplaining myself when you don’t want to get it
I’m not responsible for what you don’t understand
Just for what I say and who I am.”

To my defence I missed this, grape dreams high as grape trees we are the undying melodramatics that sit in the evening sky to hear if the world sounds different now, we see so much of its life on our bodies, the lines that curve our palms to the light hairs that gaze at the afternoon brief sun, welcome to Spring. During this time of year, we are most of everything and anything at once, we prefer to be called Spring in late November.

Poetry: Melody of Being Animate

Its Spring time again. | 7.11.22

When I close my eyes, I ask us about the pillars we have held in our life, against the dark blue skies and thirty-three moons I am met with so much majesty, I close my eyes —again—. I can see now that we have come here to teach me about how my longing has to always be at our states of peace beck and call, that when our embodiment is of the lights we care to see into the silver sky is when we come to know of such words that hold into our blood, that have the nervous system to call onto our love for words, how they cradle our inner child and call at self some more. —We have forgotten how she felt about love—, almost forgot we are love. Our body has not had the greatest of love stories yet but I am told she has thirty-three wishes. We have love to thank for this, love was our saviour is our coild strand curl, yet she too calls upon tranquil serenity to bask under its light just to show more gratitude into my body so wr can make space to talk to our soul; And —right here, is where my worlds collide again.—

Poetry: Melody of Being Animate

Child. | 28.7.22

Thinking about the time I first learnt to dream, thought about how my dreams felt in my mind and watched them carry my body into different lives, at the time though to be linear I was balancing two life’s, thought about one demise, then I thought about how I first learnt to dream again and again and I felt my body melt at our persistence for a taste at a life, I felt safe here, I felt heard I could hear our home choose words that did not break our spirits here we learnt to dream, at the end of our beckoning of our pit fall we looked at the hole we dug and dragged our dreams up with us, we carried everything we wanted to be and gave it life in the form of our second life which presented as our first, I say blessings are always at the pit of our mindset, they take form in many smart I mean careless, I mean look what I have done with all of our work, I worked hard for us, for our dream look at me and all I have done to work hard for our dream, I have started our dream in oceans and rose them from the seas wet sand up crashing with the wave as they find their way home, I have to remind our home that it resides here too, that our realities may coldie however in this one we are the most how far we’ve come, —I tell her we have Matchbox Twenty our life into a simple plan peaces of me and this song saved my life, my memories of my life are still in motion in my mind we are the Ever Lasting Friend who chose to pick up the parts of herself that rested her inner child we speak of her less and less here this way it is most needed, each day we are in remembrance of her oceans that brought us to these shores we are her safe heart her gate keep, we are her protectors she has many that come after her we do not run at the sight of danger we root our feet into the wet sand and call on our home as loud as the dark sea’s crashing upon dark wet sand we are here to protect our own for all the meddling creatures that think to dampen our fire disguised as the great sea’s.—

Melody of Being Animate: Poetry

Two moons, and hidden suns. | 21.4.22

I’ve been having thoughts that play into movies and I can’t help but wish it were different, I haven’t had time stop like this before, it feels like I haven’t had time stop like this before until I think about the time and space I had created a dreamy garden where my form exists without worldly distractions, I think about the times —I gave myself to silence and watched her ricochet into my second world we have not had time like this before, it feels like we had time and haven’t stopped like this before until I think about how my voice had been my driving sense, how her chime is as warm as the love we give ourself, time has stoped like this for us, we put the first world on pause just so we could feel again, so we could sit beside our soul in our home and exchange dreams we have built upon our solitudes in many of the past and had conversations echoing with such peace as we create the life we have thought to know we deserve, we deserve the dream we are building into legacy, into second worlds, for our first world to not forget us, we haven’t had time stop like before, it feels like time has stopped until I think about the time and space I have created my dreamy garden high into our skies with two moons and hidden suns, we are far into a galactic planet that exists when we feel the most closest to her we are the most closest to her.—

—Her reminder that her visits are welcome, this is her home too I know sometimes she disassociate with this too.—

Melody of Being Animate: Poetry

The goddess of love and passion. | 18.3.22

And so I tell them, I am more than you could swallow, —I make my own bones shake, we are not the same.— I tell them, my existence is to experience me and stay full on my own, I remind them it is not my responsibility to inspire your flame the way I walk upon this self couraged confidence I have crafted fates we are not the same, I tell myself you’re the goddess of love and passion you imitate your power so loud some may think it to be for them and selfish yet selfless you stay three burning flames, selfish like the way your love has learnt to share more into our home before she agrees to bring her waters and bowed head to the cook out of celebrations, dare her light be selfless as though her power be the only godly gift about her. — We have always stepped into our shadow so we can turn into calm water and earth, we are the garden of ease. We displeasure of temperaments here to break our necks and not our backs, say I Will never be responsible for your happiness I am building my legacy too high for my emotions to lay bare for my worth of anything taste emotion from another’s lips first, I am the goddess of love and passion.

Entry #17 – Our habits. Don’t chase, change.

How do you feel about your 1 percent of successes and your 1 percent of failures. I’ve been on this thought for as long as the ice had taken to melt into my cold drink and I can’t help but wonder how did I become someone that craves communication just the way I crave understanding, when I think about this sentence I dive into my immediate life growing up, I think about how I had felt in situations that were hurtful to me but never the less they were also the truth, I thought about how my behaviour when hurt is similar to when I feel angry or unheard, I am learning the best ways to break out of this formation on thinking trying to outlook past my emotions seeing hurt and seeing the truth at the same time, feeling unheard and thinking patience, when we navigate to take up space like we have taught ourselves this whole 27 years we can’t help but direct the happenings by giving them their solution, we don’t like to ponder too often we are do’s which means after I have given breath to air I move, being stagnant has never been a quality that rests well inside of me, I too have spaces into myself that find room in our home that play into our fears and we sit with them sometimes, we welcome them even and in the end we become someone we do not recognise anymore, we will always notice our faults and we will always notice our strengths as best as we are learning to become. The idea is to not chase but change, the courage it holds to sit with your body and accept.

Melody of Being Animate: Poetry

Thank you, for your words and your actions. | 8.1.22

Poetry isn’t supposed to be beautiful, its not supposed to be anything. Poetry is that powerful that it holds space for us all, it gives without asking for anything in return, poetry give us meaning, it gives us connection, it keeps on learning to keep us informed about love. Poetry is many things, poetry has a galactic way about its form it not in our near speech, we are at peotrys mercy, poetry admires us because we bring poetry to life, poetry teaches us about balance, poetry gives us the tools and shows us our courage to use our tools to take our steps, poetry is not saying they are right, poetry is only half the journey your form is also your teacher. When we become poetry we are unlearning, when we become our form we are learning, we are never without each others guidance, we need poetry and poetry needs our form. —They don’t warn you about the magic or words separate from actions and actions separate from words, they only learn you what they mean together. The impact of words is the knowledge and the power, the impact of actions in the wisdom and the courage. We have always lived alongside both but never taught about their separate impact, one impact is always told to be more dominant to the other and this is wrong; Be mindful and be kind. The skills you learn in this lifetime will show who you are in the present, and who you’re claiming to become in future. Practice this kindness, thank poetry and form later if you must.—

Melody of Being Animate: Poetry

To the greatness of us all. | 5.1.22

To the nights where my mind is filled with more ache than thoughts, I tell her I will hold her for however many times she needs she is needed here our home together just like this and much more, I comfort her with my dreams we watch the two sun’s rise to remind us we have always also been the sun’s in our lifetimes, we sit in silence listening to the air make soft music creating notes into our home that soothe us here in this dream life, — when I wake find my mind in her solitude I am reminded of our bodies freedom, how each pulsed thought shares some of its truth here before it leaves our home, our air has always been fire proof we have been working with the new gifts for the purpose of moments of pure clarity on what to do with the idea that you have to be at your most welcomed self belief in love with you and I hope you find what time is to you about this memory. — affirm that you can, you will and you can, give yourself grace, you have to be willfully mindful of these paths they are made to cross create a life worthy of your help on a continuum, the choice is always yours for the seizing.

Melody of Being Animate: Poetry

Prosper. (Gods speed) | 5.1.22

So I’m sitting here juice mixed thinking about the currency in which we possess to thrive our lives, and I can’t help but feel as though my polymer needs to learn to work for me to the speed of my heart, my passion for a home has alway been my way of life, it has kept me safe in thinking the keep for independence and wellness will keep me alive long enough to see my inner peace. Like could you imagine what it would be like, —to wake to a dream that has been manifested to be built upon your own, I mean have you heard about how the stars are lights in the sky, have you seen the moon drop down to your eye level and you stare at each others light thinking I knew one day that this day would come I would be here and we would talk in light.— I can’t sleep, the insomniac in me is ragging with so much phenomena I can not contain her dragon breath no longer, —she is back with all her valour she thinks to have found a way to our dreams some more, thinks she can feel it in our eyes, see it in our heart and bend it in our mind;— she has woken from her sleep, and is ready to take on yet another the same way she skips to step to the beat of her own strum; We haven’t seen flowers lately nor rainbows for that matter, the best we have done is —be the rain our element has never been shy about her passing to the next future—, we crave this chance the same way the rain begs at our feet. Keep safe, na tuta onanana as we set mission intention in more —Prosperity.

Melody of Being Animate: Poetry

Magi ina patia amani kwa akili. (Water gives peace to the mind.) | 28.12.21

How does it make you feel, I when I mention things that are this close to my skin I tell secrets like the person is the weight in my heart my mind is full of their presence. Whenever I can’t put together these picture pieces I lay in its memory, a comfort of fast feelings and thoughts-, I’m alive when the rain mimics my body, we are both in a world where we have come to love our magic, —I tell it all my heart has been holding back and the rain listens in different chimes, we get so lost in conversation she eases my heart and mind with her melody, the best kept secret, when you befriend the rain, you see yourself living in so many ways, its so easy to get lost in talks of hope, there’s a lot of uncertainty but the chime, the words are still raining down on you, you can really begin to feel it, the hold it has cradling you rocking you back and forth this time the conversation is different, this time we are asleep walking home, when my eyes are closed like this they are the most open, I see words, I can taste the colours they dye, I can see so much it’s difficult to explain outside of this world, and the rain here is also my friend, she is a beauty of drops of so many mylenya, being able to mean something and represent as a purpose is the light around here, and so when I wake, I try to remember my life there and that with its cohesive permission am I too able to convert that becoming here on our water planet too.—