I have found that dangerous thing that I’ve had a shard of embedded in me since birth-and now, knowing where the pieces are, I have to return it. I will coax it out of me half Medusa half snake charmer, and right when it reaches the surface…empty it out to the light hard, fast, and certain.
We are cracked by experience in order to reflect on it. That’s how we find out where all the light went, and why it chose to glow.
A small dose of automatic writing for breakfast.
I took the wrong train and wrote this
Sometimes I not only lose my place in the world, but I lose my place in my world.
And then something happens-and whatever it is, I remember I’m not half bad after all.
These moments take off like birds from a branch-fast and seem weightless.
I almost forget them. I almost don’t.
Advice for You (where you is me and me is you)
Allow yourself to feel everything fully and unapologetically. When we do this, we achieve a true awareness of ourselves and have no fear showing that person to the world.
I’m working on sharing a new series of automatic writings I’ll be using a word i haven’t found yet to display. They are phrases that have come to me in meditation, on walks, and in times of reaching for understanding. This is the first in the series.
Haikus of Italian Origin
From Brooklyn we roamed
Like young lions descendents
We felt right at home
Things are looking up
A Pisa our family
Old art and new art
In an old place new to me
See how old/new see
Siren of water
Swept me through her blue canals
Sway with me she said
Eyes and a turtle
Opened up my perspective
At the 12 train stop
My right hand man tells me in Italy
When we get back to New York-I should be
his left hand girl and just take it easy
I’m slowly learning to do what feels good
And it feels good to roam around like this
With you all the countries we seek are home
In these months I’ve moved lost some old friends too
Hard times turned to goo made way for the new
Things are looking up I am on the mend
Such are the ways of family love friends
three birds flashed before my eyes
you, me, and elohim
what a holy trinity I thought
comedic and full of errors
we made sure to leave room
to honor the past that was
my fingers as I came home
now I can really see
now I can really see
We had to burn the past for my shadows
to breathe free
freedom knocks when forgiveness calls
and we are home deep within
a core that bleeds upward
what god looks like
In a dreamy cadence she mused
I’m not sure what god looks like but I see
god in you-so maybe each person’s god
looks like their own version of a mirrored
What’s god look like when you’re dreamin’ of them
in that warm blanket you call a cocoon?
Is god a giant or invisible
Yeah, I guess the god I see is blurry
like a foggy moon-I recognize ’em
even when a cloud is sifting on through
Maybe god is hazy ’cause god is light
and morphs with everything in our plain view
everywhere all at once , in darkness too.
Bits of him make up bits of everyone
so, of course, god must and can look like you.
Sergio says “go to grad school.”