you are the divine master of your own life

Surrender only to yourself.

[sweettastingrain]

you will feel more resistance the closer you get to breaking free. keep pushing

[sweettastingrain]

i am an ancient soul from each and every corner of the earth, strung together. in my most recent lifetime, i was a tree, spending centuries in the woods as something stable, strong, and unmoving (which still lives deep inside of me somewhere), experiencing nothing but other nature. i laid to rest on the forest ground and relished in the magical hum of mushrooms; which returned me back into the ground for the earthly mother

i know the roots under the surface. i know the deep vibration from the core of our planet. i know the blowing of wind through all of me. i know the soft patter of critters, and the life and death of the wild. i know the kind of community that is innate and necessary, harmonious and strong. i know the song of bird, the song of wolf to the moon, too. i know the warmth of sunlight and how it filters through me. i know i needn’t mourn when all my leaves fall, for i will always grow them again. i know the call of the river and her whispered truths. in a sense, i know everything. as a human in this life, i am always confused…

[sweettastingrain]

my aching soul yearns for a place far, far softer and easier. i have to remind it no such place exists. this is all we have; so we might as well try and find what is soft and easy inside of it. even if it takes a long time

[sweettastingrain]

each day i put up with my own silly, ridiculous human nature. i’m far too aware of it. i exhaust myself trying to fight it, and i lay there after, out of breath, remembering that it is not something i can really conquer. i ask myself if i should, if it should be conquered, or if that idea comes from beliefs that are not mine that have trickled down for centuries. then, i get overcome by my own human nature again, eventually, and do the same thing over. now i ask, is this cycle another human condition, or am i just haunting myself endlessly? why do so many lessons i learn not sink in? how do i live them, walk them, be them?

[sweettastingrain]

not a phantom

not merely a spirit, but not too plenty far beyond that

waves within the bark of a tree stem climb up and up and all around my figure

one sat before a desk, spine tall and curved over the surface

quite looming over the jaggedly ripped paper, scrawling rough and quick

for a poet is very haunted, and also very haunting

i wish to loom, and loom, and loom in the hearts of others

almost like a phantom, but i am not. i am alive, alive, alive. i’ll show you just how much

[sweettastingrain]

lament from the semi-verbal

I want to find my voice

my lips steal it from me

they’re strong and my tongue hath not become a weapon

how to make my tongue a weapon?

it’s been my hands for so long…

[havingapoemwithyou]

things shouldn’t be so hard by Kay Ryan

[sweettastingrain]

soldier, poet, king

a knight of many ventures, from the moment they could close their fist around a sword. the youngest of them all when they begun

with no armour they conquered beasts of all kinds, including those what looked just like them. including those what couldn’t be seen by the naked eye at all

with no armour they lay their hand gently upon the snouts of dragons, and leaned in for a reverent kiss upon their foreheads. for this soldier has always known where true danger lies. not in the throat or chest of the dragon, but within the eyes of a withered soul

a small child they may have been, but a fierce warrior they surely were too; there’s no doubt about that

and a poet that knight surely was. for a sword in one hand and a feathered quill in the other make for true strength, true wisdom, true power. now this poet never truly did seek power, for they saw the darkness that oft come with. however the poet had to learn that not all power is bad. not all power leads to bad

the poet now understands that in order to truly overcome beasts, especially those internal, we must seek and grow a sense of power of our own, within ourselves. this knight had been fighting for sovereignty, for peace, for joy. true sovereignty hides itself from those hiding themselves from their inherent power, from those too afraid to take it

and i’m sure once this knight, this poet, finds the spark of power deep within their chest and blows into it with enough conviction to light a blazing flame, a king they will become. not for the sake of reign over others, not for the sake of gold or attention. sovereignty, power, reverence, for and of the self; the key to happiness already lies dormant within ourselves

[sweettastingrain]

i couldn’t say it for so long

not that it wasn’t true. i had said ‘i love you’ lots of times, the way i do when i’m pleased with my friends

but this was a different three words. they transformed as we grew closer and bloomed together

bigger. heavier. perhaps i was scared to crush you, and even myself, with the three words

i always remember that these feelings and instincts are meaningful, and it’s best to wait for when it feels natural, so i didn’t force myself to say it

and when i finally did, i blurted it out. a split second of realization in myself passed and i almost let myself anxiously regret it. usually i think before i speak. usually i’m careful

and then you practically sighed the words back to me, and my soul sighed right with you

why do i ever worry? you’re always so careful with my heart. you do deserve credit for that darling. i’m slowly learning :)

[sweettastingrain]

living proof

this is my favourite. this hot, burning dance of expression. no words possible, just need and action, bodies synced. trust and devotion. she's mine, and her body knows it- i can feel it, in the way she's almost slack in my arms; these arms that are the only reason she's not falling backwards. her legs wrapped tightly around me, keeping me as close as she can get me. i suck her tongue, which has deliciously found it's way into my mouth, drinking her like i've been in the desert. i don't need to say it, she knows she's mine. she's showing me just how much.

[sweettastingrain]

i wish i could hold the weight of your limbs while you slept. put the pillow aside- i’ll carry you instead. it would be an honour.

[sweettastingrain]

the flutter of a butterfly draws attention, perhaps as a reminder to stay in the present

[sweettastingrain]

the reality of who you are is pleasant to me

i spent a lot of my life dancing within worlds inside my head. the world outside of it had been unpleasant and cruel to me. when i did take the external world in, i was often only met with additions to that rule, or people who i could tell definitely fit the bill. the reality of the world and the people roaming around it was something i did not have a tolerance for. from a young age, it was rare for me to meet people where the reality of who they were, fit right in with the reality of who i am. i’m strange, and complicated, and not really built to pretend to be much else. i got along with people as best i could, despite our realities not really mending or meshing all that much. to meet not one, not even two, but several people, where right away my reality gladly accepted theirs. where not only was their reality acceptable, but pleasant, even exciting…. it’s something i craved my whole life, but never really expected for myself.

i will look back on this moment in my life, in a very lovely sense of awe.

[sweettastingrain]

July’s Poem

i pondered about you, today. it did sting for a bit, that you hadn’t responded to me. but months went by, and the sting dissipated into a gentle and understanding acceptance. i came to a very profound statement of the heart, and it was something along the lines of:

now i’ll just have to wait until we’re in our mid to late thirties, for you to someday write me at my own pleasant surprise. saying something like a casual apology for not responding to my last message, and wondering if i would be willing to catch up sometime, no worries if not. i won’t dare say anything but yes, i’d be happy to. i know the moment you open your door my heart shall fill with the warmth of an old friend. therefore i shall pay no mind to my forgotten message. i am far too aware and fond of the intricate complexity of life, and the webbing of the universe. it was not our time to reconnect, and our time to reconnect shall be granted someday in our separate, brightly coloured futures.

there’s something sad, there’s something beautiful, about that.

[sweettastingrain]

on years of maladaptive daydreaming. a plea to myself:

i saw the darkness inside of my skull before the world came into view. i was lost inside of myself. i had to crack myself open like dense concrete to see the light again. don’t ever leave it again. don’t leave the light. stay outside, even if it’s harsh and unforgiving. don’t get lost. don’t let yourself get lost. be painfully found by all of earth and its people. pain is better than detachment. pain is so achingly better than detachment. keep life gripped tightly in your hands. do not live it inside of your head. never dare to live it inside of your head. your skin needs you more than you could ever understand. it’s not your job to understand, just be there for it.

[sweettastingrain]

i still have two of my baby teeth

grounded in my jaw, immovable and irreplaceable, anchoring the gift of youthful wonder and playful curiosity into the very depth of my bones

[sweettastingrain]

i didn’t know the tips of my fingers could experience the feeling of craving. i feel it in the pit of my stomach, and my lips too. like they’re attempting to tug you against me magnetically.

i used to think it was absurd, the concept of being able to guess what someone’s skin feels like against your mouth. what someones neck might taste like under your tongue. now i cannot think that is absurd. my mind does it without my intent.

i never let it go too far. i’m much too conscious of the potential of other peoples boundaries. my mind will drift along, and it will bring you to me. once our skin meets, i try and draw myself back. but the back of my mind i have no control over, and it has some very good guesses as to the warmth the could rest beneath my lip, and the taste that might grace my tongue. i apologize, dearest. my mind won’t let you go. believe me i tried.