Something New....Someday

You are my Rose of Sharon, My Other, My Lily of the Valley, I play for you My flute, The Song of Songs without words, but with an Open heart, My Other, My Beloved. I sing for you, Not in whispers, but in full and toned sounds! On the Hill side we stroll With your King at your side which makes you my Queen. Match your eyes, to the city lights, a twinkling. the Greens and Blues the subtle hues dance in the whites of your eyes and you gaze at me with not just your eyes, but with an open soul. Filling this open vessel from empty to full. We are The Song of Solomon, Your are My Beloved. My Other.

the mind is excited. the ouroboros is cycling. the mind is numb, the ouroboros diminishes. soul bids soul, and we accept the duality. many begets the many, yet the one, begets morality, form by form we accept the divinity yet all that is left is one third of humanity.

Make me gentle, Wake me in the morning, with lips pressed to the sides of my mouth. Make me Gentle, Silence me with skin surrounding mine, in naked embrace, within the union between synapse, and loneliness. Unwind me undone, unfinished and unwound. knit me in sleep, crossed between blankets, in dreams i am found. in the midst of boil, tears escape from the corners of my eyes. steaming from silence, but unbound, unwound.

Dolls (2002) Dancer in the Dark (2000) The Red Shoes (1948) The Virgin Spring (1960) Children of Paradise (1945) The Passion of Joan of Arc (1928) Frida (2002) The Elephant Man (1980) (to be updated when i remember more)

Fill me with your wine, and i will hold you still. I will be your vessel, if that would be your will. We can transmute this wine into a love that fills. If i imbibe from your heart I'll never feel love's ill's.

I have become frightened of my own existence It is as if I suddenly woke up from a dream, but that dream was all i knew. Eating, drinking, money, clothing seems ridiculous and redundant. I am aware of my own mortality, my frail skin, and blood.I can feel my organs moving as i ingest, I'm aware of the cold raising my hair, creating goosebumps. I have full Knowledge that one day i will die with  unanswered questions of why was I born. Where do I go? My dreams are more real than this place of awakening.Yet the dreams that i have feel more like dreams within dreams, and upon awaking it feels more like a transition into a new dream than an awakening. The inconsistencies make more sense than the more solid, and slow changing world we live in. the maze That I find myself in, like wind up toy that suddenly gains existential awareness, and wonders what happens when you pull out his key. I have brief memories, of an existence where I am not me, and there is none of this. ...

Walking on my way to work i saw three burly construction workers gathered around the littlest tree planted on the street.As i was passing, one of the construction workers, wearing the typical hard hat and orange reflective vest under a light blue jumpsuit, was reaching out towards the small tree. The construction worker, about 12+ times the weight of the tiny tree, took in his hand only remaining branch breaching out towards the top in a V split fashion. The branch, which made up more than half the trees height itself, was bare of leaves, sprouts or buds, and looked as if it was struggling to remain alive in the barren concrete that surrounded the shallow soil. The three men looked at the tree in joyful malice, laughing carelessly with anticipation on the act that was about to unfold. The hand of the construction man tightened his grip, pulling the branch towards him as far as tension would allow. With one jump he pulled down the entire branch with all his might. the branch Creaked a ...