early bird gets the worm

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today i heard the 3 note whistle bird while drinking my joe…
the early bird gets the worm.
and after a long night of crying my eyes out over so many lost dreams,
mostly that are my own fault for idealization, wistful patterns,
and dreamy eyed faith,
i sat up a little taller and thought what i felt.
i am strong.
i am strong.
i am strong.

my mind and body are on the same page.
i don’t know if they ever were.
the same place.
the same plane.
temporally and geographically.
time space continuum.
i’ve spent enough time worming around with wormholes.
i don’t want to be a flipping, squirming worm anyway.
i want to be a mother fucking hawk.

it’s been a weird life.

my bones & God

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my morning meditation:

some days i feel like Ezekiel.

thank you, to my bones, for carrying this soul around,
especially on the heavy days, because without you,
i would surely fall apart.

thank you, to my tendons, for holding my bones together with muscles.
i’ve always loved glue, but never thought about how much i need you.
thank you, to my muscles, for making these bones
move and go where my soul wills them to.
if i want to flip or roll or jump, your contraction and expansion
allow me to.
and thank you to my nervous system, who sometimes makes me nervous enough
to make a change, to fly away, to shut down, to respond;
but most of the time, i’m not nervous at all.
i’m busy. i’m thinking. i’m planning. i’m feeling.
i’m living.
all of that is due to the innervation you supply and even this love,
this gratitude, this moment of reflection, is thanks to you.

and to God, the very creator of this miraculous life,
i owe my deepest gratitude and bow in humility and worship You.
for You are God.
You are creator.
You are amazing.

thank You, for this life.
somes days I feel like Ezekiel.
heavy or light, You’ve given me the means to carry on 😀
Amen.

ice skating

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i miss you, in reverie.
kinda like a daydream.

my ceiling fan looks like a flower, spinning.
then it looks like a clock, racing.
and i’m reminded that we live and die and
all i have is now.

ugh.
i have to keep my feet on the ground.

do you want to go ice skating?
seems like a happy medium….
it’s kind of like flying on the ground.

pot of gold

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if i didn’t believe so strongly in destiny,
then i wouldn’t be able to handle what is going on rn.
but God hears.
and God knows.

our hearts are destined for fullness and completion.
perhaps that looks different than i ever imagined it to be

the rainbow is there, though; i can see it.
it just takes time to find that pot of gold
when it’s cloudy.

theseus’ cocoon

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i started writing a song with someone, a co-write.
it’s wild because we are doing this all virtually.
once upon a time, i would’ve never done this.
my song lyrics as of now, a letter to Theseus. you know, the myth with the damn ship that was taken apart and put back together with new pieces and the paradox that exists…..is it really the same ship? perhaps written from ariadne and their story…but just lightly drawn from their tale
————–

dear theseus

i thought that i was in love in love
but actually i’m in love with you

dear theseus

remember the night in my cocoon
the tent the tent i (wove)built for you

dear theseus

we played inside under the moon
my tent it was not waterproof

oh you took me to the waterfall
where my tears and paddles
found their call

and now i’ll
never be the same

dear theseus
oh my tent was built of vinyl sleeves
and the thread of my bohemian tees

i told you we could put up the fly
you said you wanted to see my eyes

i was simply trying to stay here
on the shore where you left me
i was simply trying to stay here
but you said you’re growing
and i know i’ve grown wings
the sun is rising

dear theseus
i thought that i was in love with love
but actually i’m in love with you

circulation

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I keep working on my inversions mostly because
I don’t know which way is up or down anymore,
so I figure I should practice handstands.
It’s like constant swirling.
Like a whirlwind with flower petals everywhere,
even when I’m in my car…
the windshield wipers have to brush them aside.
and kaleidoscopic rainbow tunnels
that I just want to climb inside and become lost.
I can only spend a little bit of time there and
sometimes, I confess,
I try to wish it away because I am afraid I would fly away.
It’s like when you fall in love.
I am getting used to being upside down,
so maybe that’s good for something.
definitely good for my circulation,
and maybe, eventually,
there won’t be an up or a down.

eye glasses

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i’ve worn so many different types of eye glasses:

reading glasses
rose colored glasses
broken glasses
shattered glasses
catwoman glasses
purple glasses
librarian glasses
black n blue glasses
sun glasses
moon glasses
fake glasses
black glasses
red glasses
pink glasses
hello kitty glasses
john lennon glasses
pilot glasses
plastic glasses
glass glasses
superwoman glasses
protective glasses

shoot, i’ve even used
microscopes,
magnifying glasses,
telescopes,
rifle scopes,
and oculars….

and what’s amazing me,
at this very moment,
while i reflect on MY list with poetic license…
chin in my hand like this is the deepest thought of the day and shit….
it’s not what the eye glasses did FOR me…
it is that my eyes knew just how to behave behind each type of frame.
oh…..so……naturally.

moral of the story, dear reader?  

i don’t need new eye glasses.

 

 

paradox of crushed ice

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pretty much crushed here.

i’m like those grated ice chips that they make slushies out of.

you know, crushed ice.

it’s really only used for those slushy things.

except i don’t currently have all of that sweet and colorful syrup to soak in

so it’s feeling kinda pointless.

so yeah.

thanks for that.

i mean, my glass is full,

it’s just that when it’s full of crushed ice,

there’s all this extra space in there that’s also empty.

rather deceptive.

empty and full.

a paradigm of a paradox.

i kinda need to melt.