Stepping, stepping

I sold my first painting for 50 bucks and a joint today.

Time is Leaking and the Universe Acts on our Minds.

I had a dream about you as I slept
I had touched your skin for the first time
in romance, tangled in my actions but elated—
for once my finger-tips danced
on your belly and then pressed; my thoughts
had never let me go there.
I wanted the Sacred Idea hidden in myst
and kept
but then
I let existence reign
and it beheld me truth.
This is the Idea, and it is Sacred.
It is a world just unlike a world you have experienced.
But you may go.
This is a perfect thing
now, most specially, that it was first forbidden.

Bedded conviction.
Whatever,
live your life.
In my dreams there is rebirth.

There is noise
it is wonderful
it sounds
like music.

I learn to sing with a song in another language.
I know not the words but the sounds that words become
and the unspoken feeling they provoke: thump,
enchanting new constellations of thought!

I am not living centuries ago
I am living many lives scattered in frequencies
across the gorgeous planet
and feeling the essence of every living soul.
WITHOUT TONGUE THIS IS WHAT THERE IS.

There is childhood in wise thoughts.
There is Ultimate Reality in the intangible
the unattainable as
the Infinite Soul.
Now,
why can’t I feel this always?
Why must I be inspired
or moved deeply, as shaken I was mere hours ago,
again, there was a bomb,
though this could not be the signature
of normality.
What is that,
bliss?

No, I do not desire bliss. Not on earth.
But I desire joy.
I desire cavernous elations
main-streamed by general creativity
obscured slightly, though sharply
by tragedy defining growth
marking era
that loss is a necessity.

I wouldn’t have been born for bliss.

I would not, even, be born for peace
Though I would die in battle defending it.

I HAVE COME AS AN ESSENSE. I HAVE CHOSEN MY GENERATION.
AND I DO BELIEVE IN EVERY PERSON.
I do believe that every wave of people is of prescribed personality
with some sort of natural influence
that a soul may search out
on what trip they would like.

I am happy.

I have painted and climbed this mountain
for this whole mighty era.
I have traveled far in my mind
as an island I have reached planets
and have weathered youth in my expression
with the stirrings of my soul.

Oh my world!

TED has some pretty damn interesting talks, but none like this one:

http://www.ted.com/index.php/talks/wade_davis_on_endangered_cultures.html

It's shaking. THE WORLD IS FASCINATING!
It helps also that the man speaking is a poet, profession: experience.

Please watch this.





Ps. About the lack of posts recently: when I paint, I paint.
(and apparently listen to lectures from the internet, though this one
sat me right down and consumed)