C o n t e m p l a t i v e Sincerity

Welcome to a place where reality ceases to be defined by wakefulness and the world is governed by a secretive God.

[contemplativesincerity]

Memories

I stretch and pull myself into the past, widening my eyes to see what is possible to see. 

Tangible items, physical memories, things like these are nothing.  Clouded memories, vague images of times mostly forgotten, these are everything. 

[contemplativesincerity]

On being lost in the self:

The path is found,  and the past is lost, to the forest and its latent slumb’ring; giants, lest they lie.

Whence the lightning sights the seer’s eyes, his heights are soon but high. 

And lurking lower yet, a lonesome creature baths. Washing and awaiting types of darkness: dismal, drained.  With head held high and  hands held low, it reaches

           deeper so. 

[contemplativesincerity]

The Oracle, Almighty

At long, long last, the night, quietly passing, spread out far,  is drug across the sky. Some shadows die and some are born, as  light twists and turns, tailored for transformation,  White overcomes gold,  and grace over grandeur.  I feel solitude as softness and  experience dreams as reality. The mystery of an image,  of a thought, independent. Like a reverie that lasts less and less.  A practice is needed, a system to preserve, a place to keep memories safe. Remember and revive,  replenish and relive.  As the water falls, look into the pool.   

[milkgallon]

[contemplativesincerity]

Buzz words and bumbles.

[contemplativesincerity]

Affirmative

I move condfieently and effectively to achieve my higher purpose through my work in the world.

I can feel the wind and flames at the nape of my neck.

[aestheticsmut]

[pk-dub-deactivated20160929]

[somstory]

We sit at the edge of June— at the edge of wet and heat. 

We dip our dangling feet into the yolk of the sun.

A bird with large wings  slices the clouds open. 

Our tears bounce between the drops and the light.

All this time our eyes are closed. In the magic of the transport. 

[contemplativesincerity]

I took a minute to involve myself further with a symbol from the past.

freehand; pencil, sharpie, crayon

[expressions-of-nature]

[expressions-of-nature]

Mount Fuji, Japan by Shinichiro Saka

[batteredgirlautobiography-deact]

I like to look for beauty in others (and myself). I think it is healthy.

[contemplativesincerity]

A morning feeling:

Short nights, long dreams,

duration like it never seems.

Another step, another breath,

a path of life I’m doomed to test.

The weather’s changed, the heat is come,

we’re through with climate, loved by some.

Take me there and watch me sail,

a ship I’ll sink with no prevail.

[contemplativesincerity]

A Step in the Right Direction

I must redirect. 

Like a lamp turned ‘round,  set to read a certain text. 

The light surrounds, yet hides so well, making insight the hardest to see so far. 

I thrust myself to the future and all the sight it sees. 

[contemplativesincerity]

Cleanse

If I took my heart,  and wrenched it from my chest,  breaking multiple ribs,  could it survive? 

Can I wash it out with water?  I’ll stick a hose in one end, and wash and wash and wash.  What would come out? 

Would it be racing at 100 beats a second?  Would emotions and thoughts chase after the speeding waterfall, trying not to fall out with all their might? 

Or would my heart be cleaned  of all terrible woes?  Like the pressures and burdens of people and places and things. 

After being battered and bashed, countered and clashed,  damaged and damp, could it survive just one final bath? 

If I tried it myself, with no doctor or nurse, I’d be scared of the process, no matter how harsh. 

I really must try, maybe just once, But I have a feeling I’d try and it’d be already done. 

Underneath towels and rags, I’d desperately plea, “Get this damned heart the fuck back inside me!”

[contemplativesincerity]

An old one, but a favorite.

[contemplativesincerity]

The lines are helping to tie me down to the ground. https://www.instagram.com/p/BqFjKAnlQHD/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=aa4xxs8sl9ci

[ceriseal]

[dappermouth]

You dream, some nights, of a labyrinth deep underground, where you’ve learned to fear halogen lights and distant booming sounds.