If my life is my message…what kind of message am I sending?
♥
I do love myself—enough to fear nothing. I release all judgments of myself and all others. Thus, I will and I shall live, give, and I shall build. My practice is my adventure—my life, this journey, is my practice. And although I seek the bounty and the beauty that is the rose, I shall not fear its thorns. I will regard each prick as a lesson to be learned—each scar, a badge of honor earned.
With all of my love.
I come from the land two turns outta gutter swamps, still got bullet holes in SUVs tho—pull up to the famly’union liable to find deer, pig, frog legs, a bite of squirrel and some gator from who tha’fxcks backyard is this, muhnegus we got these roun’here? right next to great grandmal’s good ol’ con’bread and cawlud greens.
#avegansnightmare ♥ #truestory
My fur be faux ’cause I found no need to kill for warmth—we have been graced with the rise of comforts, namely pushbutton heat.
I pay no blood price.
You will not catch me trapping rabbits for fashion, ‘cuz like my diamonds I clean no blood from knives for a good show.
You may spy me in authentic fur—genuine leather maybe,
but know it’s been recycled, thrifted, hand-me-downed or gifted, and to the dear creature who has sacrificed most I offer no price, but many meditations well paid.
You will see me here or there my crown ‘dorned full and gratefully feathered, be kin to know they have long since been pluck from vintage wings, cast down from the plumes of one who still soars the skies or pulled from a shelf of manufactured plumage.
Still, you will not find me cursing the man who captures the doe, or the woman who glistens like pressure crafted stars from a laboring man’s land—no, ‘for every life has a price to pay, every bird a good song—and we all have a measure of heart, no one being’s strummings lesser or grander than the next.
Alhamdulillah
—♥E
They keep us warm, shield us from the extreme temperature changes—but I’m burning on the inside.
here and there, you just gotta toss the faux to the snow leave it for the deer to trample, and when they stampede
at the change of season, upon your return take up your fringe and run with them.
—Dance of the woman with 3 left feet
Each year we each embark on is always a year or something…either you fill in the blank, or you don’t, eh. Truth is often we do not fill in the blank, and we end our year with little to show because we neglected to establish a clear vision of all that we desired to see come to fruition. How much we neglected our past year will reveal its no or low hanging fruit come the dawn of the new year—our current year. Let this be the year you move and maneuver in such a way that you blink once and 2019 slows down to roll out a red carpet embroidered in golds and lined with silvers for You.
♥
All that you do and neglect to do will matter, yet, not all that is done will transmute to matter, and still, nothing is ever truly wasted.
♥
Yours in Love Truly Always Continue reading “2018 Manifest”
Agínese nañqluba otō çuqe māni hantáowa akatiya
nei—yahan
añktākakoa maqgītowe oñqyāyúñ
akatiya como mi yāñti wagitçiwa tabata hohiowa.
—From {Psalms in the Key of Sapponī}—The Ineludible Purging of S. Marie
On the icy green mountain water runs warm
here—no
weaves our valleys
warm like my heart dancing down snowfall.
—From {Psalms in the Key of Sapponī}—The Ineludible Purging of S. Marie
You’ve taught me
the beauty of love and war.
Life, raged within me like battle-torn soldiers
filled with passions, but out of ammo. With no hope left
you are the wind that blew the embers
from that distant utopian land. You’re the spark
which set fire to the enemy’s encampment. The blaze
who burned freedom free.
Signed,
—Your Love
—From {Dance with me like there’s fire between our toes}—Metronome
I am nothing
like you, you, nothing like I anymoor. And even in a world of fictions, tales, and fairy whispers by God I be, you could never be as much as half of me in your current form.
I walk this earth with tired feet, I now toil, I till, I slave to bring forth fruit so that even your deprived can be filled, but you take: You take from the hungry—the naked, the babes, the mother with the child,
you take father’s head from mother’s bosom,
you take mother’s cub from mother’s breast,
you take from the elders,
you take from them their youthful spirits,
you take the heart from the religious man, you take the dignity of the honest woman,
you take life from the Earth I and I spin—
you take siege of Our land,
you take Our chattel, you replace the cattle, we fall
as chattel
you take Our harvest,
you take Our innocent,
you take in the name of . . .whoever’s creed you’ve guised—
but, you do give death.
death to mortal men.
From {Watching the World Shake with Much Madness}—They’re Watching Our Faces
Most days you leave me profoundly speechless,
others—far from a quiet storm;
still no matter, because just like a fresh heartbeat
the winds that shift us keep us strong,
and so long as these waters flow between us we will continue to rise like grand canyons.
#titled: Strata
♥…S. Marie {734}
