Mischief & Mastery

Mischief™ 1 part kitten, 1 part determination, 1 dash of faerie dust, a splash of monroe, a twist of kink, 2 drops of passion. stir carefully. spiritualist. lawyer. energy witch. happily sharing the art, photos and words that bring my soul pleasure.

[brilliantlybeloved]

[mischiefsmastery]

Sharpness in my eyes and words

Sharpness in my veins,

Life is beautiful when you smile

And beautiful when you bleed

It doesn’t care which one you bring

With you.

[lillyli-74]

A thousand butterfly skeletons sleep within my walls.

~Federico Garcia Lorca

[mischiefsmastery]

there’s an itch between my shoulderblades

one my fingertips can barely reach

it speaks to me of growing

sowing hope

breathing sky

[labsinthe]

“Rouge péché” Isabeli Fontana photographed by Glen Luchford for Vogue Paris 2003/2004

[mischiefsmastery]

is this art, such that Tumblr will keep it up? this, my history with you, my vulnerability, the part of me i’ve not been able to access by myself. she only came out to play with you, here, with the soft patter of a heartbeat beating fast, excitement and fear intermixed, the beginnings of embarrassment a hot flush on her collarbone, as she posted the photos that turned her on, to share with you, and wondered what you’d think, if you’d accept that part of her. i hold all the gratitude in my heart for the openness of a heart that accepted that and so many other parts. you helped me see that i could be accepted for exactly who i am, and though you are not the one to take that title, you are the reason i know such a thing to be possible.

[noiseman-blog]

La Jeune Martyre (The Young Martyr) by Paul Delaroche, 1855. Featured in Rino Stefano Tagliafierro’s Beauty. |x|

[mischiefsmastery]

water does not fear change,

it welcomes the air, the tear, the cheek, the tissue.

[like-fairy-tales]

By: Lewis

[mischiefsmastery]

there is a tree I am tending that sits at the center of my soul, leaves whispering of home.

~mm

12/27/21

[seriallier]

[mischiefsmastery]

there’s a prophet in my head

she tip toes along the spiderwebs that spread

like sideways rhymes in a child’s sing-song lines

the limerick has a story to tell,

criss-crossing in time

squinting the stars out of the corners of its eyes,

squirreling away secrets that are not yet mine.

~mm

12/27/21

[yakubgodgave]

A.F. Vandevorst installation for Arnhem Mode Biennale 2011

[mischiefsmastery]

i burn bright and the grief remains.

[gypsymoonsister]

[mischiefsmastery]

a starfish is a delicate thing, resting as one would rest on a swing, in transition: the in-between of becoming and stagnation.

[delosmontes]

[mischiefsmastery]

Her curves have curves, and my lips are a question mark and a hollow space that holds them.

[brilliantlybeloved]

[mischiefsmastery]

I would capture you in your bluntness and your truth, in your sideways smile and your eyes that mist like a warm cup held too tightly

[brilliantlybeloved]

[mischiefsmastery]

there is a thing about dreams in the making, they make themselves bright as the vision of the sun behind my eyelids as they burn away the unknown like a thing that lurks in the shadows.

[beautifulbizarremagazine]

Don’t you love the Victorian vibes of this surrealistic artwork by @seidmanart ? . . . #beautifulbizarremagazine #digitalart #digitalpainting#illustration #darkart #darksurrealism #gothic#davidseidman

[mischiefsmastery]

this is a joyful poem about death:

the end of everything I ever knew about myself,

forgiven between one breath and the next,

as I become the inhalation of everything

that I am.

-mm

May 5, 2021

[thegoodvybe]

[mischiefsmastery]

i’ve been waiting for you my whole life,

one packed bag, hands itchy for an invite

that i forgot to write.

so imagine if you will: a quill

and an inkspot the size of hope when she’s magnified,

with a brightness so vast

it tries to construct a wall between itself and its insides,

cutting off parts and calling them lost causes

- these are my most sacred offerings -

and this, the pattern i fall into: hardening the hard

when i’m looking for the sonnet,

so help me find the heal in the bruise,

the spot that isn’t the opposite of what i want…

because then, even when i win, i lose.

and let’s say instead that we invite the darkness in,

let our cheeks glisten under the weight of an ocean

that moves with the rat-a-tat-tat of a tide

telling the story of where we’ve been

and where we’ve been too scared to go.

i envision us holding hands, perhaps we sip tea

— although i’m not much for bags of leaves,

i always raked mine into piles at least chin deep,

pools for diving, treasure maps for finding the center of the universe,

i believe spotless is just a mess in reverse.

(so, okay, skip the tea.)

let’s plan instead a birthday party

for this brand new being we are becoming

one where we finger paint our was’es and our if’s and our stiff lipped expectation

that we were always going to be going it alone.

let’s find the place where the colors can be honed

the print on the tip of your digit a fractal code like the original call sign

i can recognize it because i held mine together

with teeth and nails and twine for a lifetime

a hundred thousand lifetimes I lived

in the blink of the stardust in my eye

as I felt you trace your invitation

along the path of my palm

a lifeline that intertwines

your moment with mine

~mm

May 4, 2021

[fakatamalakin]

[mischiefsmastery]

My place of birth is the southwest tip of South Dakota.

I know how to make fists,

a gentle soul wrapped in wide open plains and barbed wire,

the sharp edges were not my fault,

but I know this like I know the feeling of blood on my own skin:

I’m a warrior,

the world trained me for ferocity,

and right now I’m exhaling the in-between,

of breath and space,

just hereness expanding itself,

reminding the ground in my lungs, the catch in my throat, and the lifelines on my hands

that there is nothing permanent

or solid,

I inhale my own change

and changing nature -

a heartbreak reknitting itself

to become something stronger.

~~mm

4/29/21

[brilliantlybeloved]

[mischiefsmastery]

I.

My place of birth is the southwest tip of South Dakota.

I know how to make fists,

a soft soul wrapped in wide open plains

and barbed wire;

sharp edges that I know like my own skin,

the world trained me how to face a liar,

protect my own,

and I fucking dare you

to try to put me “in my place.”

II.

My place is the in-between

of breath and space.

There is nothing in the universe

permanent or solid.

I sit in my own change

and changing nature -

a heartbreak reigniting itself

to become something stronger,

I’m searching for the mirror,

a woman who knows her own face.

III.

My place is with ascended masters, learning.

I am luminous, timeless.

Viewing past lives and future selves,

fingers playing in all dimensions,

all realms within the ground

of my being.

No otherness,

just hereness expanding itself:

I am Infinite.

~mm

4.11.21

[allthekingzmen-deactivated20140]

[mischiefsmastery]

Zelazny really did just lay out in an allegorical way the actual human magician world.  

 We create our reality.  

And there are billions and billions of different shadows of reality, built from the variances in our perspectives.  

And we can shift the scene, with just a thought.

We can manifest precisely what we want.  

We send out a vibration, running at a particular frequency, generated by our state of mind, and that attracts like energy.  

But all of it starts with us.  You and me.

We pull that energy toward us, Chaos Lords that we are, and we create a framework in which it can be perceived, because we are all, every single one of us, Princes of Amber.

-mm

[p4ssion-is-my-middle-n4me-deact]

[mischiefsmastery]

sweetness plus efficiency would score me points, I think.