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

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.

Poetry: Melody of Being Animate

Roll the credits in Purple ink|10.12.19

I’ve been thinking a lot about the come up, how we hustle and grind into a new age, a chance to change to who we are meant to be, I’ve been clocking in and out of my body sometimes the arguments and defeats get in the middle of us so loud in here sometimes we can feel it break our heart, there is so much at stake when it comes to moving into a way about yourself, we have never forgotten who we are, never believed we were any less worthy of our dreams on some days this is also the untruth, we are so capable of vulnerability we open scars we never knew hide so deep into us we have always been searching for her soul too, 2018 the day we decided to chase after our dream here the most when this path weren’t so tricked, when they didn’t set us back but learnt our character, our role play enough to set us back, made us watch the aftermath with our hearts this honest, how this began to trigger more and more of her fired intuition into the mind, we started thinking clearly about a path that we had intention into so much fight you kept learning to break differently this made you move riotously, you were all in accordance to a life purpose, each day you were reminded about how this fight is never ending that when you find yourself doing what you love you’re growing in a way that can not be stopped by anyone not even yourself, self is addicted to her higher purpose so hard she been holding back too long, baby’s mental is on some past 27 shit, know she be writing these melodies until she is given back to the earth, you can never stop dreamers in cold worlds from keeping alive here too-. Keep watching this space but be careful of her magic she is never afraid to show you all she has spellbound.

Poetry: Melody of Being Animate

Collins St (Location: Dreamy book shop.) | 4.12.19

I’m never scared of it at all, I’m not the kind of person who cowers into moonless rope rooms, the ways we speak our love language into existence has always been carried by our way of purple hearts, never to be timid into the aftermath words and its drift importance we all have our part to play, they are not who I am nor who I could also be, they exist for my own disposal and for you to me, my lovable point of respectable kink is to speak to love as is to close my eyes and vanish into the real world, I am the playful character with purple skin she is loving living her life here too, she loves effortlessly without telling love until she hears a familiar feeling her purple heart is both fire and water she knows this too well, every word has a sweet tenderness, a taste of the way it curves and learns to overflow in the mouths, so many planted seeds we open our eyes and walk right into our dreamscape here too, the irony is both intended and wishful, we are always this whimsical after spending loving time with love, we imagine our chosen solitude the real purple print, the combination of beautified awareness does not have to be something we are afraid to affirm because baby scares the unknown too, the mind, body, spirit, truth and unity all within one soul this is what bliss could also look like, I have said this more than I can ever care to admit, words are fooled with double meanings never not what you think it could also be, there is always a ways about it all, do not be a fool for and with human made’s-. At times I wonder at how I view love, I look at it in me and wonder about its intensity, I look at its devotion into others and wonder about its passion, then I wonder about its future, what does love really want from us, and I can’t stop hearing my mind, my heart tending to my mind thoughts, the twins present here too and I watch them say “enough.” We are all at a lose when we come to truly know about the harshness of how we look at who we are trying to connect ourselves to words sometimes more to who we are becoming, its so stupid simple to let the alphabet eat you alive, fill us up without knowing in us first, you know what I mean?

Poetry: Melody of Being Animate

To date. 5.8.19

I confess, I don’t want to admit this too loud, so won’t you come closer, I want to madly share with you what I have found to love as hard as you wish you wouldn’t, I’ve been holding this in so much I am not sure why my heart had began reaching for yours this restlessly now, it feels like for so long we may have thought we would not make it here, and now we may be two souls that have found each other yet again, so my heart is breaking asking me it has to be more than fate, believe that when you have felt like you can’t remain without this feeling too you start to believe in dotting motions like love again, you start to understand that whole bodies are more than a specific guise of a person, I read somewhere that destined to meet mirror each others reflections and I think this might have some sight to it, I never really stopped believing in love I thought love stopped believing in me, funny how love likes to find us late in the morning, likes to wake before the light of a new day, how this feels like long before the beginning of time, strangely uncanny how some of us are as dreamy as passing clouds as hopeful hearts, how we have been found to believe everything happens for a reason, thought you left these floating feelings when you stopped looking up at wishing stars, I find myself writing you into my existence even when I don’t mean to, even when I don’t cast to love you this hard how does a heart loose a love this blue planet of ours, -I gave affirmations the way I breathed into this 3D reality, how canny is spring in late November meeting such an air about her fire-, she knows about what it means to be scared while in love with wounded hearts on paths damned with self, she is living proof, knows we don’t need anybody sometimes we are still scared of being lost or running away, for her much like her anchored planet, for him much like a brave placement into compassion about matters of the heart, a type of softness that doesn’t believe in love anymore maybe they have this in common, her a future and him a past, how cycles learn to repeat its intended sucker, this is all her luck, she can feel all this impatience into her and his hand soft on her heart, he will never know this secret season is so typical, seasonal love ended with him some time near her high feminine vibration she claimed to feel his heart some time ago, a home that is not here, a patient masc with high vibration, his air is a speechless sent and shes back to where she had almost began-, The thing with energy care when it comes to love is that they are the almost explained without mantras, without being motivated by knowledge, reflection and intuition-, A love without being intuitively self aware is a love manifested to be karmic, and maybe this too is still, maybe I am madly wrong and I just can’t seem to let go as much as I think to will it.

Poetry: Melody of Being Animate

26.7.19 – silver. (Observing) Rain (fear.)

Lately I’ve been thinking about clearly understanding my freedom, how this integrates with my interpersonal relationships, I told my heart I wanted to see this for all it had ready in place knowing I may be asking for too much, when I think about the connection between people I think about when I was ten, I think about what I did to learn how to walk with my mouth panicked, back then I was left to believe that this is who I am and that being quiet was being naive, that being naive was having no voice of my own, I used to write myself into a place I was learning to fit into and more of myself here, I was being taught about how the world works and what it could be without my being existed, I started writing dreams of observational moral sanity, this is where I began trail and error of my true identity, I wrote into worlds that only I knew of and how they could teach me about being here, I found so much ease into myself this way, it wasn’t until I grew into my own world and outside of the reality present that I learnt what a panic attack could look like into me, the nights when my heart was racing and I silenced it without asking about its ache I lost my pree years telling myself to stop feeling, the following nights where I suffocated on my own tongue exhausted from existence right hand on my heart I was telling my breathe to swallow its own hurt, I was never taught what it meant to live through panic attacks and each time I have one now, I use words into myself the way I love, the way I learnt to use into my dream world first, I constantly reminded myself that we have always seen the world for it’s honourable potential, that this is a rare gift, on most days I beg my body for its affection the way I learnt to walk away from heartbeats that know how to break our heart,- On my 24th birthday I wished for my own life and more dreams, I wished for growth and more courage, when rainy days came I counted my gratitude’s so well kept, I told my body look, look how far we have gotten, I remind her that we are stronger together and the artist in me is the child who survived her own volition and fear of out of control-, Sometimes, I will do nothing on days that have learnt to cripple my mental state the most or my mental state or me, having this kind of imbalance reminds best of my senses, it reminds me that being this self aware is worth every drop of our magic, to be live on survival with depression and anxiety into us promises our ability to feel the world this intellectually observant.- With this Spring in Late November, and the help of this worldly reality I will have broken myself tirelessly timelessly to reach my soul, and I would do it all over again.- it hurts.

Entry #15: I want to tell you exactly what happened to me today, while trying to leave the house + you should know this was not the first also psa I usually cry about it alone..

22 july 2019 at around 2pm – 230pm – Spring in late November.

I had built up frustration for months and feeling unsettled within myself, so I set out on this day, a Monday to self care by going to Dymocks at collins st book store to have coffee browse around, read and walk back and forth wanting to buy more books.

My morning started out pretty alight. I was still stuck with that type of uncertainty and off mood/ irritation but honestly I had been waiting for this Monday for a few days now and I was determined to leave the house and head into the city. So I meditated with the headspace app for 10 minutes before I did anything else, gathered my energy to getting ready for my self care day as planned. It took me longer than what I had decided on, I kept doing small things like changing what I was wearing, feeling conscious about how my body fit into my clothes, and wanting to take advantage of the winter sun I put on my make up looked at my eye shadow criticised it so I took it off and applied my foundation over it unhappy but still hopeful, and I packed up my bag pack ready to walk out the front door.

As I closed the door behind me, my headphones in walking to the station I started getting into this mood/ energy that was so strong it started to take over my body. I kept walking and thinking I just need to get onto the VLine and I’ll be fine, I just need to get keep walking I’ll be fine,once I reach I’ll be glad I did this for myself. I needed to believe this so hard. Because I had been staying in my own environment and started to feel stagnant and too comfortable with despair. I walked about nearly half way stopped in my path, looked down I wanted to turn back so hard, its as though my body was begging me with all its got to please turn around and go back and try again with another day locked into my mind. I felt so compelled, I went into the side turn not far from home, stood there and calmly walked back home. I opened the door and I remember thinking I miss seeing my dad, I missed his voice and his big hugs, his laugh and being next to him. So I walked into his space and sat on his chair positioned right outside a window facing our corner backyard. I heard my mum make her way into the space and ask me what was wrong unable to answer her I eventually started crying quietly with my headphones in and her hands wrapped around me. In that moment I knew why I was so upset, I heard words say “I can’t even leave the house” “what’s wrong with me?” my mum asked me again what’s wrong? this time with her eyes red and I just sat there and cried hearing “now you’re worrying her for no reason” I cried some more settled down and walked upstairs sitting on the floor with the sunlight beaming inwards. Mum asked me again something must be bothering you, is it a feeling talk to me I’m here for you is it a feeling she asks again. I look at her my eyes ready to cry again and I say “I don’t know, I don’t know. Im fine, I don’t know what’s wrong.” and I tell her it’s okay I’ll be fine for the fifth time, thinking and knowing I just need time to be alone for a while. And then I got hungry, so I went to an all you can eat with Nadren.

Fatma.

Poetry: Melody of Being Animate

14.7.19 – rafiki yangu.

Mother tells me you’re too soft, she tells me her love for me is so abundant that she fears those who I allow into my space, thinks I only see others in magic lights and moon dust, and I want to tell her that yes she is right, tell her that my body has known too much to give up on others and myself, I can bare the pain, told her I can forgive most anything but dishonesty, said that there a many of me protecting my home the ways her and dad taught me second, the first is in my choices, when someone asks my home for my care about advice I am a warm lit room that can not refuse their visits, we have also known these types of vulnerabilities so it is not in me to never listen, my voice has been unheard for as long as I am aware, always known as soft, and not fire, I make sure I look my mother in her eyes and say I have always been both, when you feel your home being misunderstood its this pent up battle you have been having with your past and future self, it is not words you can say without carefully observing about its receiver, it is a misfortune of amber blue flames, the words just don’t seem to come out the way you feel them to, is it not enough to exist through these hardships and come out alive but to furiously bury them, you do not remember yourself to be this way, this is not how your light shadow deals with conflict, there are versions of myself and all of us living amongst these happenings, depending on your spirit, watch your lessons well, when you understand your own down falls and raisings first you understand places of yourself you have yet to over grow, your way of keen for knowledge in the most turbulent consistent way it is not for everyone to grasp if not for yourself only, you do not answer to any being first if not for who you’re healing from first, knowledge is becoming of us all it is how we use it and find its access that gives us purpose in the first place, I can truly speak as someone who allows room for others first it is never an easy task to put myself before those who have had space into my heart, as a forceful dreamer I can honestly advise I am not a home that carries predictability well, so when you come for my soft spots I will gladly return the favor in ways you did not know possible, this is not a warning, it is a gift for your home, and your next choice of honesty.

Poetry: Melody of Being Animate

20.4.19 | Guest.

How do you follow me into my home, I’ve been thinking about what manifestation is, what it could look like in this state, I’ve also been talking out loud trying to remember how to use my words when I am this unexpected, I have always told myself that it’s always going to be okay, that you’re allowed to be here too, when my depression visits it brings all the ache with out the twins, knows how to flood in memories, this type of meeting has always still been this way, has always felt like the very first time, and like the last time, what do you call an insomniac with dreams, an unstable mentality into a life, how do you call it again, I’ve gotten so used to being lost that the word its self has fooled both meanings, everything in me is preparing to shutdown, there are two of me here, what is that name again trauma, healing, these words buried so into me I can’t help them out of me, sometimes I’m scared about it all, I don’t exactly know when its going to end, I’ve been holding onto my pieces picking up its shards my hands bloody, I know there are guests of who I am living here, coming in out as they please, they are sloppy, careless and misunderstood, so caved into harsh words that have never belonged here, you tell yourself not to bring that kind of talk here, we did not agree on these types of unnamed chaos too, my existence feels like its on pause again, somewhere I can not even give myself the permission to do anything but breath between these four walls, this has always been beyond a feeling, I know what it feels like to heal, I know my breath has done gone been here too long we want us back so hard, we still do not like the process of understanding everything when guests are this rude into our home, I still have dreams to bring me back alive and well, want to break all these pieces into more pieces and say look this is how I am made it here too, I am learning courage in so many conversations, learning there are more than two sides to every word, I am teaching myself that it is the best thing to fail and hearing my own plea’s is me condemning me to come into myself as I step outside of who I am, to look at all of me and hand my trauma the key for next time.