dreams, Earthly voids & Spiritual quest

Sundog

Hyper-sleeping in diamond dust.
Above the dreaming pool
fingertips snaps,
bursting river feelings as
sudden swollen demands.
Let them permeate the earth.
Mother’s core contains all heaviness,
all sorrows and more seasoned scenarios.

Even though his voice
went into a vacuum void,
he was not confused in the darkness. Eventually the light passes through
pinhole dreams.

Daughter Colma, universal child
silently waits on the high hill.
Persistant to find her lover again.
Rising in the gloaming, out of clay, her love, shaped by the beam of fire.
Until summer days fill with ash,
and devotion,
goes beyond the river’s edge.
Swimming towards
the innerconnected horizon.
Up the arc of his haloed skin.
Willfully dripping prisms.

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dreams

The Colors Swell

What terrors?
surprises us out of our pleasures
Guzzling down demi-gods,
for a chance to walk down
that black opal bridge
Into the portal masterpiece;
a collection of reveries

The bleeding blot comes to me
in a green night
Enveloped in a vibration
A Rothko blur
Move backwards into chatoyancy
Waited eons to be scanned by those eyes
Like magnetic mountains pulled and left fragments of a ship
A fragile line,
as flowers are in the wintertime

The moonglow glittering
A buoyant royal blue
hovering over the golden velvet valley
A drowsy hum
Descending towards the door,
ossia,
Where the heart is full

 

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Mental Health, Relationship

Ossuary Sea

Jellyfish spit love
Tinkering with nature
The pleasure geyser from under the frown
Settle for up or down

A friend that failed you;
Once a three headed goddess
merry-go-round
Now she’s restless as a Wolfgang huntress
Chasing a sorrow bit tale
A mad clap ovation to tear down the love summit

Perplexed, when we come back for more harm
When times are good, demanded the sorrow to stay away
Pushy like the river into the sea
Water element, better then the air to breathe

The horizontal bones
sinking bells below,
Out of decadence we all go under, in watery graves tonight
In hope, to awaken in aria’s soul-mist
A great acquiesce, to exist
A perpendicular recovery
In a circulation towards love again

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Mine Na Poem

On the Cusp

Scorpio Moon
Salty scales
In depths concealed,
keyhole through
the unknown ebony
Pour in rippled imaginings
Cast away the poisoned torrents of
Chevron
The mind whirling curtains

Exchange for trust,
that my better half
is on the other side,
of that someday summer door

Discover a truth like no other truth
The tide is high, but I’ll choose to let it flow in me
My cards are worn, but I’ll spread them out in front of me
I’m not sorry, to be in love with the magnificent mythical, the maps of metaphors, the bountiful of the illogical mind tilts
I’m just a leftover dreamer
I’ll vanish one day,
in the willow moonlight,
on wings they thought they clipped

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Ceramics + Writing, Earthly voids & Spiritual quest

Blue Tara’s Violet Flames

The burning beacon of our blue mother star.
Her secret mantra like smoke rises in our wounded hearts; to cleanse all contempt and fears away.
She pulls us out of the deep sea’s sorrow and brings us back to shore.
She is the brazen warrior of radical acceptance towards transformative joyous love.
Her blue- violet blaze, is our guide and protector, for our spiritual arrival home.

These are photos of the progess and the finished shrine. This art piece was a real joy to make, and I’m inspired to do a Tara series now. It keeps me connected to what I would want to be one day. For we all can be like Tara/Bodhisattvas if our hearts are open to first self-compassion and then compassion for others that seek the path of self-surrender. Being comfortable in falling apart, to be held, and mended back into something beautiful.

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Art Illustration + Poems

Eleanor Airway

Blue calcite the night, soothe over the weary mind.
Sensing the illumination in my center core, like the singularity of the stars in this starry-painted sky.
As the summer days are approaching, will I miss you now?

The landscapes are grids,
borders to protect the invasive neediness.
At the edges of my gallant horses,
Like my own towering crib.
But the clouds have shifted and can carry
my jejune voice afar;
To kiss your waving aura.

My unpitched heart caught in a fable.
Dance around the feather totem.
Climb the crystal bamboo tower;
To turn the night light on.
Since the golden goddess went to shine on infallible faces.

Living in dreamscapes, wondering if you’ll return to me.
Perhaps as a heat death?

Art and Poem: NaRa

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Kryptonite, Mental Health

Slipping out of twilight’s swallow

No more, the fragile figurine
A damsel I played at twenty-three
Bewailing old-time wrecks
Shyness usually describes a
modest daughter
But I like crunching the shells

Forget-me-nots scattered at where I end, and another begins
Teeter tottering, a mechanism for equilibrium
Has been replaced with circling the well
For wishes are like rituals prescribed
When the highs and lows are unbearable and through a meaningless loop
Tell no one, for they might sneer and smear your name
Their sweet shared insincerity
are lampshades, to their white hot souls

She called me naive
Ha! All beauties are lures
Eyes are flowers, just blobs of brain on stem
The elaborated mating scheme,
As if he ever noticed my almond petals
Like the possibility of
various UFO shapes
All he saw were dark pools
To sink himself back in
And remind me of my insignificance
Now, onto your self-deprecating,
The hand washing

The abject fear,
My prickly mind taunts
In the same moment of reminding you to swallow your weakness, she says,
“Don’t be a pushover”

Art: Elentori Words: NaRa

 

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