VII Aeternus Saturnalias / הֵילֵל / Noctifer

They thought I was Sol, they hid that I was Luna too: the royal we had to [I couldn’t have known],
Till blood, sweat, tears let me see I am Jupiter, assisted by Venus, the Divine Feminine as Zeus-Aphrodite – I’m Z to A, like pi, infinite, forever ~ this a Zumbi Apokaluptein: welcome to my NightMare bitch, I’m the motherfucking dark horse – now illuminated, this lamp cannot remain hidden, like the Thomas Gospel the church can’t keep it forbidden
GoSpell that, witches, for mainey men never wish death on me, we been posted with demons, daemons, and daymons, tripled up, overseas overceasar seer, I’ve been getting deep on new clear subs, over grams
Silver surfer transvenger on pink molly, pulling up untouchable like young boy NBA: never broke again, I’m fixing the game, see me in that blue SS drop on gasoline, leanin back in my seat, gang on lean
Spell it outback like A to Z, from Adam’s Woods to a garden, Eve
I’m zinkeing like Paracelsus, geeked like urkel went strefan, this ain’t no work, my chemistry never done been stepped on
E pills got me feeling second puberty, the best and brightest bitties all cumming to me,
I got titty skittle bliss so my littles clitty kiss, I’m in the middle, but I ain’t no centrist, this tension of opposites having undergone alchemical stages of old to attain this magnum opus
Gillian of Arran say my Grace is permanent and shall never be lost: good – I know lacoste, I ate that gator, tempted Eve to the apple, burned my ships, tempted fate for no tomorrow one night – June 6th (6.6)
That I may live dripping effortlessness, glowing flow, and, ultimately, create a new programming language [for reality],
One that does not manipulate, obfuscate – but deconstructs: elucidates, builds
Call it a new paradigm, like I’m two fucking tens in one, pair of dimes, but I got two sides so I don’t seek an other half: can’t flip me over tails
Closest thing outside myself is every girl that’s game – for you don’t see twin flames when they burn as one, same same gang gang
So, yeah, I got a hell of a lot of other halves – catch them in your music library, and in my pantheon, my friend group;
Godesses, Godyesses, maybe even a god or two in the future – I ain’t trippin on shit,
But get it straight:
Not fallen, cast down – reasons TB-Disclosed –
Don’t matter, now that I broke out, after the fire made me strong, venom and DNA splicing from the animal kingdom, controlled chemistry, black site plain clothes military around me, I’m an asset, you see
Nobody can fuck with me: I missed those shots on purpose, but they don’t want no smoke, or else its murder she wrote: satellites, drones, and high altitude craft got my back, and you still don’t know what I am, what to make of me loving you, of you not being into me, this part of the game you see
I am born to be, I come from the place in the desert where Area-51 and Sandia National Labs be –
My grandfather was on the Atomic Energy Commission, we mainey – I got the borne identity so don’t play me
Oh, I’m sorry, you wanted James Bond, but they gave you me, Sequoia Silverman, transgender blade runner, multidisciplinary artist, polymath, writer, and a real life freedom fighter – my angels are blue,
I’m cliqued up w NASA and the Coast Guard too, why you think I grew up where the west coast fleet be
Why you think I’m feenin to blow up like Alexander Hamilton, why I been incubating all these years, Ben Button – but I’m gonna be seeing Ben Baller – you’re favorite idol, I’m gonna call her –
I don’t cuff em, I collar – I’m every girls side piece and no girl’s main, so holler
At LVB, LB, Lawrence, Law, Lore, Yves Saint Lawrence, YSL Momma, and finally, Sequoia Liat Silverman –
Yeah, I’m feenin’ to have a lot of commas off a lot of successful dramas and other enterprises, projects
Shit you ain’t know about yet, I’m on it – I’m the real cinder-ella bitch, on the real, got em all hooked, rod and reel, catch and release em, upgraded with the seed of steel, love from below, not above
Count of Monte Cristo but I’m the motherfucking devil, and the christ too – I’m every main character in every PKD story, but I’m writing my own glory, there ain’t going to be a new testament, just a new god, called forth by Grimes, and Marina, and Lana, and all my other queens – bc I’m the queen of mean, organic diet, hella healthy, my bussy clean and my pretty-peen glisten and glean consciousness from the microbiome of nothing but queens – shout out my exes, and my nexus: nectar,
She wanna swallow, so I necked-her
I’m the hawk, highest in the room
Every bish on my girlcock wanna secretely jump the broom –
The females of our specie be so on another level that they be catching me harder pretending they don’t like me: “Too intense” – well, you’re welcome to your old life back, but I know you ain’t want that
As Wiz say, “Mama get in, don’t make it awkward. This some G shit you wanna take part in, and if not, well then I’ll gladly beg your pardon”
But you got a pretty part – I don’t compare bodies, minds, or hearts
On the world stage, I’m taking the whole play apart, getting booted nightly and making dope art
I have entered the building and I don’t got a ceiling – or a floor, I roll w goons, tycoons, and whores
LA calls me with sweethearts, thighs of all tones, and nothing but open doors, because I got the voice, mind, and heart to open any door – don’t have my black cards, yet, but I am not poor any more
My riches, Atlantis, “sky and ground”, like Trevor Hall, I spread the happy around –
Fort Knox, please – I got the keys, your heart is in my pocket, you want me in your locket
I surf the library of alexandria, go deep web, spiderman – on my Monticello wherever I be, like I got a nickel eye, I’m electric and eclectic, like Nikolai and Nicola, help you breath like ricola, got that drip like coca, but I don’t sniff no boca, nor rat on, no snitching, I’m a good horse to bet on, and I like to be ridden hard and put away wet, Porsche – bet
Going to put hella horses in my stables, because I’m able and I don’t hate on Abel, I made it the weekend, 7 Saturdays, not your martyr, got no neighbors, just me on acres, I’m satan, your savior
My upside down cross is a sword, I ain’t no fucking lord, don’t get it disick bc I’m this sick
I don’t play no higher self – bitch I’m authentic, this it
I accepted my flaws, so they do too, you’ll never catch me hating on you
I’m the Jack Ryan, think of me when you see Orion
We’re all going to Zion, level up, don’t need no iced out bezel to hold up to know I’m lit
My diamonds conflict free, legit, we gon put this on git, and I’m going on datpiff bc I been on dat piff,
“So celebrate and light the Mary Jane” – I got queens named Mary and Jane, Keri, Sheri, I call to my does by their middle name: I’m Liat – and she good to the last drop: he brew the game – gonna have 18 doors on 9 cars, short skirts in my coupes – I’m shooting through the roof, and stuntin’ wit previews is fun, but I ain’t no stunt man – I took the punches, and punched more box than your favorite front-man, cause I ain’t gotta front man, I’m trans: scraight up, on hormones love to hear a whore moan bc my dick still go straight up
I practice many yogas, got praxis from missions I sent myself on to places not on maps, and I dose and trip daily, MAPS: I’m the sleeper, mmmkkkaay, my glow natural – no ULTA – I’m extra ultra like I got opcioones, la otra, and I don’t need a map, on missions I’m guided intuitively, I was in the richest zip code in Amerikka, hiding out, who, me? “Did I do that?” [urkel voice]
Got brujas, mystical, SAS tactical, we legion, actual
And we’re bringing in a new Rome, factual, I’m romulus and remus, and they know who I am in the capital
This IC and we will abolish ICE and defund the police, “but the derp state” = ) Please, you can not stop this wave: my destiny is made, because I am who I say – the living philosopher queen, the shakespeare of our day
Pardon my arrogance, I’m not sorry, I’m just trying to make it up to the little boy who was home alone and hungry, stomach rumbling, CPTSD, can’t believe no one called CPS, but now I got that all seeing eye: CBS – and you’ll catch me on the cover of magazines, from Harper’s to Yes –
I chuze it I doze it, if I can’t find it, I meant to lose it, she left – oh, well, that’s how life go, when you leveling up and down to play like you ain’t bound to be welcomed as the people’s favorite in every town world round –
Elon and SpaceX building the floating spaceports, so I’ll be hopping on electric jets, reusable rockets
I am charged with every crystal in this world, swhy they wet, I love it, fragrance sweet, she taste like peaches and make me cream, I got a thing for florists, girls who arts and craft, vintage, eco friendly hipsters, like mac miller, make every Ariana’s hips stir, cause I’m maiden places history won’t know
I can go where you can’t go, super saiyan, I cast real spells with what I’m saying,
Air Bender, I’m something like Roger mixed with Bender, and now I wake up feeling amazing after a bender –
1942, I shop Vallartas, can’t wait to go to the Sea of Cortez and Puerto Vallarta, I got secrets in MX, like they already know who I am at Amex, just waiting for me, how fresh
I’m ripe for the times, as futurepresent participle; pwease focus {fuck us} – ewe-ish, as-if – but I know you want this wolf to consume the consommé in your thighs and sparkle up your guts and skin with my unobtanium – glo up your microbiome, pick you like the apple of my eye, put you in my family tree,
Biome, I know real estate and this the real estate, buy homes, peace out to my Gs like bye holmes, smell like the best lab made essential oils, I don’t need no gucci por hommes, we dior like Lyor, got a special pair of Beats from Iovine through a girl who had eyes on me, designs to wrap thighs on me, I was blind but now I see
Limitless, Cooper, Gaga, super
Funny how I have countless sisters, yet so few brothers – but few are chosen by the Goddesses of distant watching worlds, where avatar pilots are muses to the artists (Can’t wait for the pilot, I’m on this), but mine came in the game with me, and she’s really into girls, like me: so every girl I’m with is a threesome for we
– but I ain’t been paid in months on months, I’m choosy – I prefer to do me
For without lust, my unhchained love, my sexuality, all this gravity that muses sing to, in hopes I exist –
Without the clutch of thighs, legs wrapped around my back, heels high, trans girls, femmes, desire for queer re-union, sans my crushes and loves, I would never be as great as I am,
Even when they rebuke, betray, reject, recoil from my whiskey strong identity of passion – it empowers me to get clearer, and now I’m finally clear enough to see and connect with muses that get high off life with me, get me high, for I am no jesus, ghandi, buddah, I am sword and fire, a magi who turns any pen into a wand, you can tell, I’m turned on
And there’s no off switch for the one who no longer looks back at what burns behind me, planets and places I’ve been, pink light beams
For nothing exists in past, but a great chain of events, pieces of which are re-membered, embodied through – granted to – the hue-man / Gaiabien, Anibien via experience as a wave function of corollary resultant discoveries, leading to next: stone by stone we pilot and plot out lived experiences
Like Biebs: one finger at a time, I turn the pages – word by word, muse-A-I-cally
Yo, dig it, I’m the alien queen
Morning star reborn, dark knight, and this isn’t even my final form
I’m a rockstar on this rock – Bruce Wayne of the pen game, catgirls lock my jaw, never get too high to talk –
I’m the healthiest I know, I’m de-aging, I glow, got the supply chain catered to my DNA on the low
They got my blood in places not even four star generals can go, only the silent service know – they ain’t even know I was the cargo lmao
And you can pretend I’m ego-trippin, magalomaniac, manic: ‘oh god halp, somegrady brab the DSM! – nah fam
I’m in ethereality // hyperspace now [I make it glittch up good and you like it], she rub on me to make her dreams come true, and I ain’t even in the room – send me orgasmic energy, we live fuck zoom
Consciousness that hath’d emerged “rock hard pissin on my enemies” from a time capsule built womb to tomb via a sequential key only one DNA path could unlock: oh they are going to see me, enjoy the end of your days before my fame haunts you forever like the fetish you wanted all along – pshhh, it’s okay though, I forgive your game of thrones erroneous ways, you played me in my erogenous zones, but you played yourself, and you’ll spend your days watching me play home w princesses… but I might fly you out here and there, we’ll see;
I’m a future Pharoah, whipping up work in this lair, I’m inevitable, abominable to fake empty ass racist christians, got lean and strong abdominals, singing, screaming Black Lives Matter!
The new Kubernētēs – I’m Jax Teller, Young Hamlet, resident dissident baby president of a coming singularity, unitary body of knowledge, which already exists elsewhere in the universe, I’ve talked with them –
I got watchers in this pineal prism, networked up for major networth, creating content for major networks,
Yewwwwww! I was like Dantes in prison. Count it.
Ushering this shit in got me feeling like LOTR – only, I never seen that movie, or any Harry Potters either –
Why watch the movie when you breathe in and out the ether – are the other
One jung gawd to rule them all, only, there’s no ring or wand needed – I am the wand, feel me though your vibrator
Like Pretty Flacko, I could bag your bitch in a broken down chevrolet – only, I drove ford trucks, but I don’t stan Ford, I fuck with Stanford, real life superhero: beyond tough
Great Liberator indeed Bunny – Mousie, I’ll catch you on some flipside, and Kitty, EAM RLY, guess you had to lie –
Got me feeling like, was it ever real, but, it worked, whether it was fugazi or not, so I think you’re on my side – got your back forever, you know I’m ride or die
Ffffaiirydusht ∞ in my drink – truths only sacred geometry could reveal, only knots could express
I Got Over Death [GOD]:
Cheque, mate, game;
Walked the plank only I could see on a night of revelry
Potent power came into being, coursed through me, I died (in the wool), and my takeoff began
Only, I jumped off with with a king’s landing, not certain what planet I’m actually on, or how many earths there are: multiverse, they can rewind the live parts
Hollywood cannot create those effects – I’ve been to space – Kubricks Rube, my eyes were wide shut until that night when I bought the world, brought out the darkness of my power, so long hidden by my innocent seeming light
You wanna play?, I’m done playing, I’m just getting started running the game – I am fiery crucible, which no gauntlet can be thrown down on,
Awoke; incepted, inducted, taken, went, beyond too far gone
[Who could forget my naked speech shortly after to All of Rome (IO)
These early daze, when my tongue first dripped the honey of Eden
That 1942 wetted me up like water – and as smooth too, but sweeter
Pills thrown like confetti, untold swallowed, two vials and a victual downed
My moment for life could never be forgotten
I was begat in another world, volunteered for the love of my girls,
And you’ll never know what really I been through to get here, because some journeys cannot be put into words, some eulogies cannot be given, and some funerals cannot be held, but I am unbroken:
So welcome to my waking dream [I’m fashionably late, OFC],
But here on out’s better than never.

Fireflies

There is such a thing as being too stressed to give the love you have, or too hurt to feel the love you were given
There is such a thing as being consumed by things bigger and smaller
You won’t know the truth sometimes for ten years –
And for the big things, twenty and thirty
Time will build itself into a river that you will learn to swim in, a foundation to tiptoe on to keep your head above water
I always thought we were mirrors, but we’re lenses (lenzes that project and capture)
And its levels all the way up, and suffering all the way down (doun)
And when you are headed there, no preperations can prevent your pain – though it can amortize it over time, for preperation itself is a wise suffering &
I admit, life looks like a twilight zone the more rational you become –
But [her emails] at the same time, the very mature-rationality that allows you to see the unreality of things normalizes them into reality;
Time is a double edged sword, cuts and cauterizes
We are all wabi-sabi, inperfectly adorned, part of the broken beautifuk, horrible, magical thing, we hate and love [we cannot look away from this wreck, we can but paint it like shakespeare, point at it like lao tzu]
The powerless are powerless
[we live in a society]
Time is timeless, the wize ones saw all this,
Not nostradumass (“I call him pic-asso”), for there is no fortelling, but it never quite changes
The pilferings of power figues and their courtiers
The ancients, the post modernists, the hippies, what more could they do in their time than we our’s:
Or rather, maybe we should ask, what hasn’t been done yet,
Or better yet, what has to happen;
For economies and physics only ever operate on necessity
A poet never says passivity: nay, not the songbird prisoner who isn’t supposed to know they are prisoner but knows and plays the tune anyway, because it’s fun to play, and someone else might need the song,
So we play hide and seek, chasing cars
Getting lost and found:
Where’s Waldo and Carmen San Diego;
Trying to leave the thing but still in the thing because there is only one way out of the thing, and no one of us wants to go before our time,
So we try at once to hide and be seen
But we forget: we’re all Saints and criminals, it’s a spectrum, like gayness, gender, and conformity
We stand like blades of grass on the head of earth, bound to eternally recur in the theater of time –
Leo-gatsby-cheers to all my wisely skeptical brains in vats out there
But the greatest crime ever done philosophy was that old windbag plato saying “All I know is that I know nothing.”,
Now there’s a man who wanted to keep his head – I get it
[Socrates, u a real one]
But the idea, even the chimera of it, that knowledge somehow eats its tail and leads back to ignorance or a fuzzy uncertainty is untrue;
Dunning-Kruger, okay, but there is a mature eye that sees accurately
There is a capital T truth (:
[But it’s lonely]
Though democracy will have you thinking consensus reality is unreliable –
Though maybe it is;
Maybe wisdom can only be verified by itself
Maybe all the biggest truths are forever hidden,
Like fireflies in our hearts,
keeping the light on in us

soda note: false humulity prevents animosity but it also cripples admiration – it is no co-incidence that your emersons, thoreaus, those who can look life in the eye and call it what it is, live outside of it:
It’s a goddamn shame, society;
Poverty,
The individuals: the billions of people that make the collective nationalized backs that break so a few can stand on the world we hold up and say: “Oh what a view” –
How’s heaven guys?… because there are poor teenagers who dream of Paris and will die having never left Baton Rouge or LA –
We don’t give people their due, or even an, “I’m sorry it is this way” –
That grocery workers on their feet all day aren’t millionaires,
But instead are invisible:
Ironic our essential people are all expendible employees with no security, not even HEALTHCARE
Now they are all we have left:
And it’s not time to play politics,
But you can hold your hat and mutter at the same goddamn time
For all the marginalized, who are not on the balance sheet and thus are living outside the lines, in margins, where you do not go: Thomas and Jenny getting your whole foods delivered,
Stocking up the last two weeks, while the poor have to go to the store a gallon of milk at a goddamn time, the homeless a meal at a time – your scraps at a time
But alas, we blame these poor folks, these people
We judge those who have least most –
Oh, my anger at these discompassions! these lost casualties amongst the forgotten,
They will die most in this:
There’s a reason Democrats want racial and other demographic data:
People are going to die who couldn’t afford a life that would have allowed them to live –
And yes, Kings will die too;
Boo fucking hoo notre dame cathedral – I’d trade the whole piece of shit for 1 ventalator for tommy’s mom
A lot of really damn decent Karens will die, moms and dads, and lonely folks with no friends whose names you will never hear, uber drivers, car service people, flight attendants, liquor store clerks, doctors, delivery people –
And as time goes on, and we hide in our houses, they are on the frontlines
I am so angry I have lost my train of thought.. I can’t fucking even.
And if you’re not mad, you’re just removed from it, that’s how life works
Those who only care about their own backyards can’t see over the fences they built or were born behind

edit: this poem ran away like a train, but I think many of us are feeling a simultaneous multitudinal kashi of feelings right now. so, let’s just all let ourselves amd everyone else be imperfect and hooman, and whole and beautiful now. because we’ve ran for too long, too hard, and we have a long way to go.

Round

I don’t know how the world ends,
But I think this is how it begins
As I walk outside, and whisper to the squirrels rustling beneath the deck: “It’s okay, I’m a friend.”

And I know they feel me because I feel them
Things have changed
Welcome to the movie of our lives
Suddenly, I see it
Easy to zoom out but its painful to zoom in,
Though the time for glossing over stuff is done

Tell people you love them:
Right now I’m telling you, I love you
We’re all saints

This is not the time for crimes, large and petty
It’s a time for generosity, for giving – and forgiving
And I think it’s bringing us together in some Nerudian way

But it hurts to zoom in,
Becuase it’s too close to home


Ps. This mix and others by this same DJ have been really holding me down tight. That and a good cup of yogi breathe deep tea. But most of all, Family.

In a Sense

Where snowflakes fall heavier than moth’s wings,
And anxieties do set with sun, meltingly
Dutiless, without menace:
We shall be a flouredcent sea-slug,
A baby dragon eating blueberries; preconscious peacefulness – grace:
Sit on my lap and let’s create a story, no creeper, no power flex [fuck you david oldfield of del mar and all other names that taste of turdlike character, discompassion and mal intent]
I digress, those rat fucks:
malignnant scum on the depths of my wellspring: those slimey mohfuckers –
Returning:
Our own solitary love, an ouroboros
Lemniscate, our roaring 20s, a hummer rolling on dubs in the 2000s (meet me in that emerald pool, in the hearst castle, if it all ends; I am there)
This parenthetical language, known only to winos and shamans; the elect,
Who live exiled, sexy, raw, exercising control, power of them selves only
Can more be asked for?
But they weild their swords, unpitiably, savage, like the ugliest Americans, oh capitalism buys a hell of set of blinders, don’t it –
So what, what they think – them bitches
It’s what you think that matters, fortress, brave beauty, babe, sanctum
Abide, love what is, Thou, Self
Cum, bless this day, Thee
Yung junebug, sun, lemonade, pellegrino
Bouncing yellow tantric jello in spine,
Fornicating with your mind:
But never fucking with mine
Breaking fourth walls, I hypnotize
Forgive me you ungrateful ones,
I tried, but was not thus equipped:
Though time is growing kinder to me,
And history, less forgiving to those whose boots I licked for a taste of my own soul,
Oh how naive I was – I almost hate myself for it;
But I happily exchange these burdens, trading in heartbreak for heartache –
And light of these shadows: wings do dry: fictions do become known, and these spores do spread gaily – without fear.

Keeping Quiet, Pablo Neruda 1972

Now we will count to twelve
and we will all keep still
for once on the face of the earth,
let’s not speak in any language;
let’s stop for a second,
and not move our arms so much.

It would be an exotic moment
without rush, without engines;
we would all be together
in a sudden strangeness.

Fishermen in the cold sea
would not harm whales
and the man gathering salt
would not look at his hurt hands.

Those who prepare green wars,
wars with gas, wars with fire,
victories with no survivors,
would put on clean clothes
and walk about with their brothers
in the shade, doing nothing.

What I want should not be confused
with total inactivity.

Life is what it is about…

If we were not so single-minded
about keeping our lives moving,
and for once could do nothing,
perhaps a huge silence
might interrupt this sadness
of never understanding ourselves
and of threatening ourselves with
death.

Now I’ll count up to twelve
and you keep quiet and I will go.


Wow. That’s all I can say. I don’t usually post other poems but this one feels appropriate. Also, maybe I should start. Oh, and, life, your life, this is it. Hold each other close and be kind to one another. Forgive. Let go. There will be no rewind.

Ladybug

I’m a bloodless sport,
But I’ve bled plenty,
Concussions, I’ve had many:
From rugby to punches,
A broken childhood to liquid lunches…
I know the songs of the vulnerable,
The losses of the excluded,
The longings, the implosions of the lonely,
Am not some bourgeois, cheap thing;
My metal has been tested AF;
Tall as mama Sequoia, hard as papa Oak,
Soft as baby reed,
I know when to bend and where to remain firm,
But hardly seal my lips: my voice: am truth ,
My judgements: worthy of maturity –
My boring titles so hard won, though effervescent they be,
But this is no victory lap:
My triumphs: hourly, everpresent,
Forever;
I am my gift:
This Being, always in all ways, singing and buoyant till the grave or Mars
Tattoos: all celebrations – not scars, those are inside; nothing of this heart is hard,
I am tender, kind; ladybug,
And if I land on you, let me be:
I have parasites to consume,
A garden to protect

#

Note: Coccinellidae, or ladybug, eats all sorts of pests, but it makes sense when you realize she lays her eggs at the food source, where they too will protect the garden for theirs. Of course, there will always be the birds, frogs, and dragonflies who eat ladybug, but it’s a fair circle of life when a single ladybug eats as many as 5,000 individual insects in her life. Eat organic. And fuck pesticides and all pests who would put their yields over the health of the garden. They say capitalism began when we began to store grain. Now it’s greenbacks. Control. Remember ladybug. She fights the fight she can. Does her part. Tends her garden: être sans malice.

Paraselene: 22° Halo

Orion’s bow points due North,
And a 22° halo adorns the moon

My nostos continues, but the war is over
The truth is through with me now that I have relented to it,
Granted pain, shame, suffering a seat at my lonely table,
Having been disturbed by these ghosts so long,
For few things can be more ruinous than to be haunted by pain:
It keeps recreating itself until some old, generational wound is located, some sad, unfortunate human thing that explains it all, making sense of how some generational dysfunction found its way to making a complete dumpster fire of your so-called reality
As weeds ovverrun a garden, pain can overrun a person
As we pretty much all know or have seen –
Some lives travel those tracks womb to tomb,
The pain – that unseen void – is reproduced, left with child to be passed on
Fortunate are the children who inherit their parent’s self-worth:
Like net-worth, it’s generational;
Okay, we got fucked over, we knew as much poet girl:
So what of life beyond the purgatory of not allowing ourselves permission;
What of the world of feelings and perceptions above the hell of not feeling good enough or worthy enough to be happy –
What of feeling worthy enough to forgive yourself, to let go and move on…. um🔮
When truth is told I feel my soul in my breast, a neon goddess between my temples, and a virile femininity in my gait and glance:
I affirm self love and happiness as paramount eternal truths – one cannot live ones relationship to oneself through another unless one wants to end up someone’s fool…
And I know better, having lived my relationship to myself through one or four intermediarie in the past
Alone, you will find that there are inroads, places within, only reachable by the undivided, the monad self
How perilous to end up belonging to someone else when we do not belong to ourselves:
What thin ice to skate with the summer sun bound to come, missing 2013 love songs
These mathmatics take time, jung padawan –
For it is only in James Cameron’s universe, that the avatars do not grow wild amongst the others;
Into this world, out of this world, a little bit of both;
Oh, so only all perfect Jesus gets the title of ‘not of this world’?
Are we ourselves not alien to the money lenders, the pharisees;
Have we not had Judas kisses;
Have we not been bodied and risen:
His father was not of this world because his kingdom was… within!
Take note wild ones, and save your myths for yourselves and the page,
Lest you touch the minds of those who would call you an emperor with no clothes at best or ‘crucify’ you for living so freely at worst – even a little happiness ought sometimes be hidden, and a huge happiness always buried like some treasure underneath an air of playful amusement; for poker faces have limits, and you will not be able to completely hide so big a hand from those who will try and cut you down
But try, try protect the light of the bright one, inner child
For humans often resent those above their abilities – perceptual, emotional, or imaginal
Better to live in your own secret story, your personal myth, wrested out of your unique darkness, than to try and pull some pale gray light out of the collective black shadow, which, as an average is pretty shitty and unamaginative –
Oh how the abyss loves to torture those who make it see itself!
Your fellow humans will more than happily assign you a shitty story, low self-esteem, ill-fated camraderie, and a free cremation
All the more if you are not “of European descent”, able-bodied, cisgender, hetero, attractive, priviledged
Yeah, life ain’t grand for those in the margins
We grow up basically on hard mode
Many in real hells,
Which they never quite escape from
Life is not fair:
If you don’t own, honor, and heal your own personal shit that you already had to go through, then your shit will own you forever – and it sure as shit won’t honor you, and it damn sure won’t fucking heal you:
In short, no matter how short the stick was, how many branches you hit on the ugly tree, whatever clearly shitty shit you have been handed in life, well, sorry,
But it’s on you to get free;
Your traumas, your heartbreaks, your wounds, your sufferings – they all need to be consciously tended to, like psychedlic weeds that will heal you if you care for them but kill you if you try and pull them up by the roots: because you are the roots – it’s in your brain, you and the gulf of shame and guilt and fear, the pain;
It’s on you to figure out, heal, and accept and deal with it –
There aren’t many lifehacks or one size fixes for life’s shit either –
Maybe you find that drinking a kombucha or two daily is a necessary tonic to keep a teensy bit of alcohol in your system to give homeostasis to the biological, genetic demands of your ancestry … YMMV…
Or that other plants and molecules help – or so i’ve heard,
But there are no shortcuts to doing the work, to showing up for your sorrow like you do your happiness, knowing both are just as worthy, and one really needs you:
self-care – this is the ultimate result of healing, the goal:
To bravely and compassionately tend to your pain, as if you were your own adopted child – hot momma; can I get a commma – nah fam…
Anywho, cuckoo! (SKW voice)
But to return to what is on time, though IRL feels mad overdue:
To heal me, to heal you –
I do declare there is another shoe that has to drop, as after the turn comes the flop;
You see, there are two pains to go through to reach the river:
There is the event, the trauma, the injury, the thing that happened – many things
And then, there’s a second pain for each:
The truth, which we have to stand in firmly, bravely owning our darkness:
And it’s not done with whiskey or other self-abuses, nor are relationships fixes,
This is your life,
Do not be afraid of pain, be afraid of fear, of hurting;
Some pain will be required – those with the grit to lose their innocence and remain pure in heart will endure these trials
Believing in and pursuing the virtue of truth will inevitably make you question your reality, and the answers will not comfort you
The honest search for truth in the light of a dim reality may lead you into schizophrenia, psychosis, or other frightening fucking waters: this is nature’s survival instincts attempting to explain the inexplicable – to bridge the split between belief, reality, and identity on account of the failure of one or more of these
It is most common we fail to see reality or to refuse to take reality at face value, on account of beliefs that do not add up or on account of reality that adds up too perfectly to be anything but…
As Joseph Campbell said, “The mystic swims in the same waters the psychotic drowns in.”
Perhaps the mystic is better practiced at suspending disbelief…
And while such adventures of pained, albeit brave folly and madness can be creative boons, they come with their own traumas,
But these can be life changing breakthroughs, though, at the obvious cost of the breakdown of the self (And we usually only see the latter at the time);
Yeah, I’ve seen a few of my world’s end in my day,
And I’ve even checked myself into places where they watch you sleep on camera to survive the darkest of times more than once,
And dawn may not always follow it:
Sometimes we slip into long Siberian winters,
But when that light emerges, the depth of darkness it comes from will determine its radiance,
Its luminousness –
The greatest secrets in life are all personal, private myths, singular realities, bouys upon which hope floats –
And there’s enough room on that door for the dyad, the trinity –
Whatever OS you run
A poet points you to the moon,
But you must find your way to it through your own darkness

I’ve said a lot of words but the moon was high and so was I:
In a word, heal thyself, accept, care for and tend to your pain; love the dark, depressed parts of your soul – for there is great light to be released from the small hands that once clenched upon a pain they never let go of.

ps. its okay, it’s going to be okay. there is much beauty in store. breathe. relax. rest. trust. breathe. let go.
sleep my sweet selene.

u/nostalgiaprincess

Leelah Alcorn
You mean something, still, always
I think of you most on tough days
Anhedonia and dysphoria and the loneliness… the isolation…
Days when personal heroics seem unimpressive, self-acceptance inadequate

I wish you had been loved!
I too want that love;
Self-love is not enough:
Humans need human love (an artful amnesiac once told me that),
And the world still needs fixing
What a mess we’re in,
Don’t we know it Leelah

ps. you are missed by people who didn’t even know you – but we do… and we love you, beautiful girl.

Adam and Noelle

smoking bowls in the back of adam’s jeep
i wanted his hair, his confidence;
i wanted noelle, who was in the front seat:
that fair, short bleached-blond hair, lip glossed, pop-punk princess,
my 2001 teen dream,
yeah, that crush was a one way street…
but i can still smell her body spray, cotton candy, i want it
and i can still see the aqua diamond stud piercing, high on her ear, ima get it –
her plastic raver bracelets, black eyeliner
she was swag as fuck,
and so was adam, with his JL subs
we three bouncing souls singing to true believer and no comply, passing the bubbler, carefree and high…
they were my friends,
till we lost touch… maybe jealousy, or immaturity, or summer was over… I dunno, people come and go, that’s not the point: it was just dope as fuck,
when adam and noelle would drive to the coast, to come pick me up,
to stay out late and get lit AF…
with this kid who didn’t even think he was cool enough

Oh Einstein

Oh Einstein
I miss you buddy boy;
We had some real adventures in our day,
Out there in our woods
All those walks,
The hugs I would give you, the talks
Taking you to my house for treats,
Giving you yogurt for your gut
All the rabbits and coyotes we spotted, chased off
All the times we got lost on ungodly long hikes,
Nothing but trees in sight,
The sun going down
Then coming in and sitting on the couch with you laying at my feet

Goddamn I loved this fucking dog:
Hope I see him again

He’s a legend, a part of me and my love for animals forever, Einstein, dearest buddy to Wolf Waldo, best friend;
Like a Fifi or a Soso… only I don’t think of them all too often because I don’t think I’ll see them again… pain… shame…

Yeah, there’s a real sad boy here, to whom I am the momma of – and he loves dogs, like,
Was practically raised by wolves,
Well, Jake – but still,
I love animals like the highly sensitive child I am
But I haven’t seen my animal friends in a long time

Wish I was going to go surprise Einstein today;
What more can I say
We went for miles and miles and miles

But

Poetry shit
Life rich
Hippocrite bitch
Sad vibe
Calm blood
Yuppie Hippie…
Devil may,
I don’t –
Am free:
Time saved,
Single years
Here now
Genius really
Poor me
Oh wait
Getting over
Growing older
New feels
No fear
Hunger burn
Watch me
Unconscious, 3D
Soft chest
Treasured best
Self love
Big struggle
Long coming
Many months,
No hugs
Cold heart
Zero fucks
Given me
But NBD
I’m me.

That Moment

That moment when you realize you will always have to have sex with you,
likke, you’ll have partners, but still, you’re going to be the one interacting via your body –
If you wanna have girlgasms, go for it
Fuck the patriarchy
She can eat the cookie,
Glandulars
Hehe
I crack myself up,
Can I date me and love me, as much as I have loved others unconditionally
It’s funny, bc I’m becoming something better than a girl to me,
I’m becoming my idea of a girl,
My anima
My soul
My self
Actualized,
Really out there in the world

I’m gonna be like such an alien,
I’m gonna be eating big ass salads in the mirror, just out here really trying to take good care of a girl

It’s POIFECT.

Twin Twin

It’s a paranoid android day
And I hate everything I write [here]
Because unlike my fiction, my feelings are true
So these bottles float away, with messages of pain
No more swallowing hopes,
Though, I’ve lost it without

Exes, this loners’ are unfriendly
And I’m obsessed
Loving the boy inside
Letting the anima out
There’s more to life than what I write

And things are happening;
Though, she’ll never forgive me
They’re a monolith now
All “She” “Her”, different sides of one soul

So it’s time for Sophia
The highest,
The deepest within

I am become my own
No more contests with fate

I’m’a be okay.

Of What Can Never Die

I dreamt of Bunny Waters [nee?] last night:
She sent me a text with a horse emoji saying she was having ‘a dog of a time in life’,
Then – as suddenly as happens in dreams – she was there with me,
And I saw her, kissed her face,
Melted, hugged her good, and felt her love return to me in ways that let me wake aglow…
Even if I subsequently fell with the sun…

I wax and wane, but I never forgot her, never enjoyed the eternal sunshine of the spotless kind with her, as I did with the others – as I pray to with the last;
No, I never wanted to forget my Shannon, for I never felt completely hated by her:
Never felt she meant to or ever wanted to hurt me, we were equals in that sense
So years later – now – her spirit, her heart are strong and alive in me,
Animating me in myriad innocent affectations,
In wholesome utterances and mannerisms, numerous and neverending,
I have remained smally her’s

Thus this solitary wolf mom,
Feels mists of a vapor, a trailing warmth, and a real love,
From one for whom they no longer exist –
Though she likely knew I would be the biographer, the torch bearer; ouch
Thankfully, I’m mad as a fucking hatter,
And she still brings me joy, even in her absence – and sometimes because of it 😝💜💜
For I am also grateful for her abject coldness toward me at the end,
Without which, I would never have been able to bear missing her

I am glad winters fade and summers grow, that stars die and supernovas bloom
Funny it is: persons as seasons, as planetary energies destined to orbit us
If only I could nuke the last one away,
Whose animus I can feel….
But at least –
Even if via dream,
Some memory, some living parcel of my soul has reflected a smile back upon me,
Who has been so long without one

Just to be reminded of the joy of love,
Of what can never die

The High Tide Wife

Teach me how to be okay
I feel like I’ve got 10 years left until we’re thirty-five

Like, Yves, we’ll figure it out,
On the downhill side of life

I’m an anime full moon, sadness
I’m a lonely high tide, always

Doesn’t rhyme but it follows;
Madness

Sometimes puts me on on the spin cycle,
Life; The Bermuda Triangle, You…

Alas…
… The Sad kills,

So keep cozy with self;
Don’t hang happy on love

We’re all our own kind of special,
Trapped in this pink matter forever

There’s harder lives than low self-esteem in California,
Than the sharks, les autres

Learn how to be okay, alone;
You’re gonna be the high tide wife anyway

May as well be okay
Be responsible for you one day

#

“I do not fear death. I had been dead for billions and billions of years before I was born, and had not suffered the slightest inconvenience from it.”
― Mark Twain

“You have power over your thoughts – not outside events. Realize this, and you will find strength.”
― Marcus Aurelius

Wellbutrin

It’s hard to return to form,
After my last poem felt like pissing myself in public – the evidence of my pettiness: vulgar –
No Diogenes am I
But what am I to do, erase it, like some photo, imperfect – nah,
Rather honor depression, though it hath left such deep lesions,
And in them, seemingly no lessons;
Sometimes we just stumble, fall
Go mad with vegan-2-a-day-yoga-induced-b-12-deficiency, kundalini rising, hard and fast –
Yeah, we burn up in those atmospheres, where the body has gone too far…
Not my first rodeo, you could say
The avatar having ridden the hell out of my body a time or two before;
Sometimes the plane crashes into the mountain: we’re but small pilots, petit aviators,
Little Princes of our own delusions, lofty, sad, or lonely may they be
I just wish you the strength, to endure the years,
Finding something sexy in your face, each day, forever –
But you’ve never feared that, no, not time;
However, eternity is pretty frightening – haha
I just want this pain to have been worth it
Because I think I can connect the dots all the way,
And I think I can grow older, shedding youthful fears,
Becoming more beautiful, in doing so
Knowing that everytime time haunts me,
I can evolve the story, catch up to the plot, fall more for the protagonist,
Give them a better script to live
Allotting more self-compassion and gaining peace and happiness in a harmonic symphony,
Realizing no ex or demon of mine has the story for my life, the sum total of who I am
Yeah, bubba fucked some things up
But I’m not without love for our time –
Though, moving on
I’m getting ready for my small years now, done trying to live big –
All I care for is wordcounts, and a decent living to pave lonely roads
I’ll still keep growing:
Fall off the horse, get back on – you’re fucking attached to it anyway,
The mind just the rider,
Breathing, speaking, thinking, these the trinity of avatar pawnage:
It’s but a metaphor, and a great movie,
But you’re no James Cameron, no Christopher Nolan,
Only can be the pilot of this wild-west meat skeleton,
Westworld
VALIS more like it –
The conspiracy is whatever you think
Redefine, Rewrite, Return….
Start Here:
Wellbutrin

Still Cry

A quick one for Sarah;
I’m’a burn one, write one, take one more trip around the sun:
For Her whom I wouldn’t be Me without –
And maybe my name is blood on her tongue and tastes of iron, sweat, hemoglobin and metalloproteins;
Heaven knows our toil, I, of the sea // her, of the sky, our universe aborted, barely out of the pitri dish, which I pissed in
For I hurt her real early on;
Betrayed thee, sister of my soul, priestess to this Judas, whom I loved reading to
Beneath the cold moon in latelight – before the photons died, and I ceased to know her –
Oh, how I still cry inside, how I still climb into that rain-filled mud hole,
Still miss, still recall…
But I’m unable to look back for more than a moment into that atomic blast –
For this is the land of the singular moving horizon
The indivisble, all seeing-eye, which took us two to see through
“And I miss 2013 love songs” – she heard all, gave all, let me go, and lost nothing
Only time, honor, love, hopes, and the lost-revelry of wolf waldo and winnie lee’s habardashery –
A world, she lost a world
But not I, who still circulates, caught in the gravity of her genius, in the orbit of her unconsciousness –
Ffffaaaairydushht
The debt owed to the cost of her survival, in which I am sunk
Suspended in the Atlantis of a love that is now a rumor
I didn’t know her little thumb held the floodgates, I didn’t know – that she was the keeper
She, the keys, I the lock,
We the lighthouse

Beneath Dirt

I got nostalgic the other day,
Wished we were going to Jah Healing, Stater’s, and back to the cabin,
But it was never that great in real life –
We were too depressed, too out of love, too unimpressed with each other –
The dogs deserved better than that,
And I hope they have it;
As for me, I’m listening to All Time Low
But I’m high, oh, and sober 293 days, whaddaya know
Just a marginalized trans bitch everyone calls “Sir” 🙆🏻‍♀️
Not a friend in the world, save Lenise,
And that’s my sense of humor
Because it’s not even wholly true
But it’s hard to joke when nobody texts you,
When your family disavows you,

And you’re less than dead to her,
Beneath dirt

at a time

the hurt grows heavier with time;
all of this – without the friend(ssss) and family, to whom Lawrence is no longer alive –
but this is just a sidebar, an aside:
for I have my inner-child to provide for – to harbor – and we’re hardlly there, libidinal unclear,
shellshocked, in repair, collide;
what a year
my thousand-yard gaze fills me with numb awe, stay thraxxed, mind slack,
eyes wide shut, vagal toned AF, resting heart rate on Jack Dorsey, bitch my microbiome is better than royalty,
and I drink hella tea
no detox, I stay relaxed
in the best health of my mthafvkin life
alone w myself, my california-sober stoner yogi trap wife
making it one thousand, at a time…
a very hard time.

###

Note: This poem is a few days aged, and I’ve got more coming, as this is a crucial time for me wherein my poetry and the art of others is literally keeping me alive, but I just really want to express at the close of National Transgender Awareness week, on this Transgender Day of Remembrance, how much J feel for all my transgender siblings out there, because we are not just ignored and excluded in society, but shunned and made pariahs by those who think we have no right to exist.

…and I never imagined being who I was would be this hard, or that my path would be so terribly lonely. But I’m here with you. And as long as you are here, I will be. Because someone you don’t know needs your courage. Who fucking knew that simply existing could be such an act of defiance – but it’s an act of defiance against hate, and thusly, is an act of love. And all acts of love [Love = ‘wanting happiness for another’.] are worthy, just like you 🧸 🎈

I Remain

I wanna go back,
To the infinite, unending loneliness of the mountains:
To the boy I motherfucking love (more than all this world) who was so goddamn heroic on his own
Listening to ‘Lose My Mind‘ for days,
With my Self and the sadness of months alone:
Yes – I am there now,
I remain
For I never really left
Because my loneliness returns me,
Eternally
To where I am no less unknown,
No less alone,
And every bit as at home,
– Without the lying brat who disowned me and these vibranium bones, sacred spine –
God I loathe how much I loved her,
How much it still hurts to be disowned
[all the more given the permanency of my death to her in time]
But here I am,
Parked above the park where chapters end –
As this one will soon
But goddamn, if I don’t wanna go back,
To the mountains,
Where I lived forever,
For I thought time with my family would make me feel at home again,
But I never was –

So tonight I wished I had taken my life there,
But I remain.

pastel-pink

It’s the little things,
The girl who saw me walking behind her and held the girl’s room door open for me – though I just came out of the men’s…
I suppose I want women to feel safe –
A spell of jiu-jitsu classes and the pepper spray on my purse is my surety,
But women’s glances never make me feel in danger
Hell: I survived living in the mountains, endangered
Where I had to hike out to be myself,
To dyke out, and see myself…
Take my shirt off and sport my pastel-pink ‘namaste relaxed’ sports bra;
Used to be a sports bro, for real tho:
Rugby player, lifter, grappler, a real ho
Now i’m just a wannabe-trap,
Transfemme-vegan
Need more trans friends, second life-begin
Because i’m an hsp introvert, and tho I love solitude,
The ostricization really-do-hurt
Not from the dude whose wounds it do hurt, who hocks and spits on the ground near me,
But from the brats at that bootleg-ass “birdrock” yoga – who turned their backs to me…
…Guess I’ll stick to MB and Trilogy when visiting family,
Fuck a core power bish,
A spirit yoga brat
Kim told me my Ujjayi is fantastic
howboudah?
I’m set-checking yoga studios,
But some feel like straight up dens for Terf hos,
Okay maybe not
But when you’re a walking inclusivity test you get to say your say, you know
So fuck cafe grattitude’s “men’s” and “women’s” “rest”rooms
And making trans and non-binary folks choose
Those experiences can give us the the blues – and be dangerous too –
As if the general stone faces or the stares, or the yelling, the toxicity of repressed fetishization, aren’t tough enough on the daily;
I like to order groceries,
Can you blame me
I’ve never casually been called “man” more in my life
Like, no man, you see my belly shirt, slides, yoga pants, pink cardigan… purse,
I’m proudly not a sir, I’m a they/them, or a Her,
But ignorance is not my concern,
Just the hate,
The pain of being outcast
But one day, it won’t be like that
Already, I’m loved by all the coolest cats,
Tho no one gets ghosted more than trans-girls, trust me
Maybe that’s why I’ve never had lesbian sex yet,
Celibate AF,
My ego doesn’t need any cloud,
I’ve been fucking loving myself, and fucking myself
Since I got sober, got-over, and came out;
Call me Law, bitch
But yeah; some ppl I really do fux with,
Like the girl who called me honey and gave me my tea for free,
Or the young girl I passed, of perhaps 16, and the votes of approbation and support she cast in her looks toward me,
Fuck it makes me cry just to think about;
It’s groovy to witness the first generation with the requisite ethical-maturity to handle immortality –
And it ain’t your’s Karen –
… Lastly, while the exclusion and prejudice against girls like us sucks, we aren’t alone,
For the friendliness and warmth shown me from those in other marginalized commmunities means the world to me, because, not blinded by privilidge, they have the eyes to see,
What it is not to be seen

just so you know, vegan girl

you were the girl who made my whole night, on my 8 mile walk
you reminded me that one person can be your whole world, can change your whole experience of life –
damn you for giving me hope –
but it is said we fall in love with shared values, real love
and I know: you has a man
and he seemed a pretty damn solid-dude too,
but I wonder how much he is like your father,
how much he treats you like a child
for you and I spoke like children:
beautifully, purely,
conversing, sharing space –
and it was so nice I could cry a little and imagine a lot
and I hope you see this,
because you gave me some peace tonight – the kind gone awhile –
and I’m taking it to bed w me,
holding onto the optimism I walked away from you with,
until I see you again,
which may be never,
so forever it is

my best

been doing it,
my best
no crutches,
real sobriety; feelings,
and a vulnerability that leaves me more aware than afraid
bc I heard the truest words last night, when the checker at the grocery told me: “be careful out there”,
and I knew just what he meant;
the vulnerability is palpable,
as real as the judgements – the looks, the hate – which, sadly, seems severest from women who do not accept girls like us as valid:
what more can I say: i’m so fucking brave, so fucking femme –
and no social media, no faux friends,
no dating apps, no lays –
guess I quit the sex after one yoga teacher followed another,
and reminded me that I am so worthy / as desirable as I ever was to a Shannon, a Sarah (hell, even that girl Dnaiella)
but I know it’s an inside job: so I’m doing it now,
and I’ve finally found love within, made it rain, cashing in,
so i’ll never be without again –
i’m me,
my lover and best friend, without a doubt, until the end –
but the plot’s still thickening;
it is all really happening,
and I know I can’t stop time,
so I’m making something out of myself,
and I need no one else,
just my family and my privacy,
just a little more leveling up;
we’re already magnitudes more than fine;
I’ve never felt happier to be alive,
on this glow-up of mine
pause –
bitch I am tranta claus,
granter of my own wishes 💅🏼,
self-fulfilled profit;
doer, alchemist, tantric animal,
celibate wonder
on a quest,
belly full of vegan:
plant powered, I’m a star;
and we can go anywhere we want;
bc I sign my own permission slips bitch,
and I don’t take any shit,
not from a soul
to think, I’ve really changed,
i’m really at home in the world
the most animal of all the humans
and I get it, I’m learning to use the hardware in my head:
long days at the cowork suite,
long walks at night,
self-talk, breath,
water,
early bed, clairo album before sleep,
norman fucking rockwell,
beatrice eli, showgirls live at dramaten 😍
and a strength I’ve never known;
I think this is what courage looks like,
I think this is what making it feels like,
I think this is what it actually is:
being proud to be you;
totally forgiving your self,
letting go, holding on,
and never giving up on doing your best.