Boho Happiness: July 2012

a random wednesday

(actually written on wednesday, june 27, 2012)

how many wednesdays do we get? once we look back, will we remember a single wednesday? this irrelevancy, these details, all are in the way like a cloud mass of the brain. but as fate would have it, i am living on a wednesday today and thus i need to account for today. this day.

this day is like a mirror. it is reflecting a single sound over and over again, i will hear it often. it will call to me every other minute of every other day, waiting. the symbolism of a bell in a city, the sound barrier of truth, of signal, or warning, of remembrance. this symbology rings all too well as with our inner beat, sound wave, and pull.

so, this is my wednesday, a reflection of self, world, self, world. except today, i see a lot of self, intertwined with this inner lining of cool water. when all i see in the reflection is of the self, i cannot function as properly as one should. it is blinding and confusing and you cannot recognize what you may have with this distraction. therefore, i must rid the obsessiveness of self that we all, definitely i included, swim in daily.

it is magical in a sense, this wednesday, for it is no other and has been no other. in that fashion, it is history in the making. forty four minutes of history left to write of this wednesday, to be precise. what did i write in history today? nothing of exceptional importance, nothing i will remember when i look back on all my wednesdays, but i never know how i could have affected something in the midst of the ever turning change. i could have done something to contribute, well, at least that is what i hope for.

or not. because it is okay "if not". it is okay to just be okay on an okay, random wednesday.

most of the time.

but most of the time, the times that bell clangs and sways in your heart, then you know. then you know there is more. then you know you have a purpose, that the time is of the essence, that a new signal, a new tone will come soon.

this random wednesday, i learned to listen to the inner beat of my heart ... and let my brain go for a nap.

check out how i transform some of these thoughts into art ....

a little more.

sell yourself short of glory and harmony, thou shalt cut off thy tongue girl. be gracious in acceptance and loss, therefore i am with you and you shalt not remain in pain. pain is of the moment to pull the loins away from the meat. sinking down and feeling of fire and rage will tell you something you once knew, help you put a piece together. you'll have to do this one for yourself and go through alone. you can go alone. it will be okay.

then you will know ... a little more.

good morning my love

good morning my love,
oh love
how i do hope
you are blessed
today
tomorrow
and forever

good morning my love,
oh love
how i do pray
you find beauty
in everything
today
tomorrow
and forever

good morning my love,
oh love
how i do wish
your dreams
come true
today
tomorrow
and forever

good morning my love,
oh love
how i do love
thee
today
tomorrow
and forever

no second rate sister here.

i barely open my eyes
hearing sounds of
gentleness
calling me into
the bed.

southern sweetness,
i do declare
how is it
you wear your hair
out
like
that.

i will break the chains
and tie myself to something else
i will follow it,
the new lines
of selfly order.

because there is
no second rate sister here.

my love.

my love.

if i could tell you how i feel or how i understand what we have, i would.

but i do in a quiet way.
i tell you a little in every way.
i show you more everyday.

it's quiet and comforting, i understand and i don't.

you come to me, like a shining knight, even though i know you are only a man.

i expect nothing from you and everything, and you handle it quite well,
like only a knight can.

this, is a blessing.

for you are what you are and cannot change, nor derail from your course.
you will follow it beautifully, without fail.

you come to me, in quiet strength, solemn strides.

clearing the way, one swing at a time
through the brush
you make light through the branches
and i feel the fresh soil and see
the uncharted trail awaiting.

we are quiet in our love and purity has been ours.

i am rested in our peace and have forsaken turmoil forever more.

*from a collection of valentine's day poems i wrote this past lovers' day.

it happened between us.

what has happened between us is a journey
we have collided and are walking as one
for where you go, i will go
for what you love, i will love
for who you will be, i walk beside thee
and love.

*from a collection of valentine's day poems i wrote this past lovers' day.

I am thirsty.

My love, my love, I do love thee.

You are the strength in my bones,
the stretch in my skin,
harnessing in this fire
is your well of water.

I drink from it,
taste and quenched,
I am not.
I am thirsty, for you.

*from a collection of valentine's day poems i wrote this past lovers' day.

think about it.

why is it
that sometimes,
many times,
often ...
people try to
restrict you?

don't want to
see you
do well
or be happy.

they like to keep you
in a little bitty box,
nice
and
tidy
and
square.

so,
they can always
know exactly
what THEY THINK
you are.

think about it.

say what you need to say

i feel lost and free
and bundled into knots
my hair is wild
and likes to run
but, somehow,
keeps getting forced
into tiny black
rubber bands.

restricted,
keep it tame
keep it slicked back
and manageable,
free from imperfections
or ideas that it
can be free.

others won't like that,
only... they would,
they do
they want to do that
but won't
so they want to
keep you there too.

pull that hair back, woman.
follow the crowd
over there ...

or

just let it run wild.

i see your light.

in the midst of shadows, i see your light.

it's wrapped up, coiled within
bends and folds of the rays.
that slight, thin line
of pure white
is all i can focus on
because all the black
just fades away
into nothingness.

pushing

fellow countrymen, led me your ear.

we are here
in this day and age
turning our wheels
churning our goods

burning muffins
cooking time
the smoke will pass
up through the chimney

pushing art towards
my fingertips
does it happen
so easy
or do i have to
riddle and rhyme?

silence in this life

twas the moment i once told you
life had no beginning, it sat still,
sat waiting for combustion of truth ...
in the light,
it sang it's melodies
of riversides, mountains
people and movement
in the dark it waited
quietly...
it had no beginning,
no end is coming
it sits still in all eternity
travels with speed of light
and both
are same in form.

at once grab your candle,
at once sit still in night,
know you are
constantly moving,
know the silence
in this life.

definition of happiness 2004 exercise

in 2004 i wrote:

(1) write your definition of happiness.

emerging yourself into the life within you and around you. enjoying every second for what it is. giving more. wanting less. forgiving with ease. no anger. immersed in love, with love. loving the skin you are in. gratitude for everything. meeting new people. going new places. not being afraid. not worrying. excellent relationships. fabulous communication.

(2) list people, possessions, achievements and events you thought would bring you happiness, but haven't. what was the false promise in each?

i thought certain people, at certain times (in certain circumstances) would make me happy... would help complete me. and yet, as they enhance me on my journey, no other completes me in the way i seek. it is within myself, with God, within the understanding of being. it is much deeper than any person would allow you to think. it is all within, but yet, outside sources can support or discourage, which undeniably (at times) makes a difference in self-realization.

**still sounds good to me 8 years later! i love finding old journal entries.

i had to follow.

i followed it down and into the hole

it wasn't heavy or mellow

or round or yellow

but it bounced and i felt it

go

and i had to follow.

on a street corner

on a street corner
cars pass by
people walk
a stranger catches my eye
i see a child
holding a father's hand
i hear the birds
singing their songs
car's engines
pushing the limit
lights turn green
others turn red
people slow
and people go
a cycle in every second
intersections crossed
circles looped
a grid is formed
and a space is defined
a movement follows
a pace is set
destinations are in sight

movement frees
my silly heart
grasping a time or two
of rest.

we are the difference.

what if in the planned routines of our life, the times we plan to make a difference, we didn't. but maybe it's the in-between seconds, that we undeniably set a course of passion and, then, in those exact times, we make the difference. we are the difference.

Subscribe to: Posts (Atom)