Your transgressions, and those committed upon you, have no relation to the quality of your soul.
This is the grace to live, love and forgive others and yourself... To let go.
If it's true for you, it's true for them.
This is the hardest thing you can ever do
🤟
#lifeisacollab
https://t.co/KxWgcsuKIc
Also,
see the 'Artwork For Mine to Keep' post on Creative Sanity for a deeper dive into the why's behind the poems and for the process to find the accompanying image in Midjourney.
Mine to Keep
A new collection of poems on will and my place in this world.
All this ego death and stripping away layers of filth and healing the past four years revealed a pair of desperate hands clinging to an impossible mission: Keep my life from fading.
‘Ode to Little Hands’ is about where the clinging started, watching everything I knew fade from sight and feeling smaller than my little hands in my tiny lap. I couldn't keep it, it was all gone. But also the truth I couldn't keep any of it, because it wasn't mine.
Life will always be bigger than my hands and that's okay.
That's how it should be. I can't keep, maintain, protect, mold, whatever… because none of it is mine.
It's a gift, all of it. Everything. Not even my own life, all that will ever be mine, is my heart. My will only goes as far as my will to share it or hide it. That’s it.
‘Elegy from the Fathoms’ is about discovering the wonder of your heart after ego death. If mine is this magnificent, then others’ are as well and there is a vast ocean of beautiful connection and experiences to dive through and play in.
The dichotomous ‘No Lifeguard/Lifeguard on Duty' poems are about wanting to share in this wonder with others who hide it for whatever reason and the bitterness and self righteous condescension you mask as selfless suffering and love as you try and will the other to share. At least that's my pattern, I've discovered.
All stemming from a defiant understanding of will and what is actually mine. Absolutely nothing in and of this world, except my heart.
Be present, prepare and share your heart. That is all. Everything else is a lie.
Such a miracle for little hands to do.
#WritingCommmunity #love #poetrycommunity #midjourney
@Jared_Carrabis Present... I held out for so long until a month and a half ago. Ever since I said Eff it and joined the fire Cora group, they've been playing so well. 13/18 level feels.
I want to be out of that camp so badly. Let's see how the tough stretch after the All Star break goes.
Went from watching the Scrubs episode with Collin Farrel to JRE podcast with Guy Fieri, and because of that juxtaposition I realized Guy looks like the fat Blink 182 version of Collin Farrel
Happy Valentine's Day you love birds
new poem for Creative Sanity
One
vibrations
I have something beautiful for you. I
cherish it more than all the gold in
existence. To me it’s more stunning than
all the sunsets could ever glory. More
spectacular than fires of stars. More
personal than thought and emotion. What
I have for you can fell giants. Crumble
stone. Build lasting strongholds to
persevere all that’s wrong. It’s incredibly
delicate, yet stronger than all. More
transparent than glass and valuable than
diamond. Its weight is free, unbinding
yours, like a lock to be free. With what I
give, together we can never fall. All I ask is
will you take it? I’ve come to you because I
see within the matching splendor you have
for me. As I cherish mine I wish for yours.
To nurture and grow, caress and protect.
Revel and play with forever in time. We
crack open bone to chance the scars, I see
yours so precious, I pray you do mine. So
here it is, my love for thine. It’s time to risk
it and ask you to be mine. What do you
say? Will you take it?
Claws From Tomorrow
https://t.co/t0NAHKq2bi
A byproduct of not dealing with and healing from past trauma, you carry it with you and strike at others. Like a pair of claws breaching the depths of your being, passing the pain to them...
#dodgers front office is leaving everyone in the dust. Doing the work and figuring out creative ways to structure contracts to avoid high annuals. Was hoping the #Redsox would have caught up and modeled some contracts after them but it seems they're allergic to signing bonuses
Director-writer David Lynch, who radicalized American film with with a dark, surrealistic artistic vision in films like “Blue Velvet” and “Mulholland Drive” and network television with “Twin Peaks,” has died. He was 78. https://t.co/T2GOao28ux