They ask me what is race —
I say: a border drawn in skin,
a lie that learned to breathe,
A wicked seed planted from within.
It’s not blood. Blood doesn’t know color.
It’s not bone. Bone doesn’t hold grudges.
It’s a story — told so long,
so loud, so often,
we mistook the telling for the truth.
Race is a costume
A made up competition
Of existence.
HIS-Story made us wear.
Prejudice is the cousin
Of racism for they both go hand in hand.
While they prevent every color and creed from coming together and joining hands.
Some days it fits like armor,
some days it cuts like wire,
but underneath it, every time,
is just a person
asking to be free
of the box somebody else built.
So don’t ask me what race is.
Ask what it costs.
Ask who it protects.
Ask why we’re still drawing lines
on a map that was never really there.
fears to rest laid, in love and light we wade ~
assigning no grade to bliss readymade
I’m judged by nation, and I can’ help smiling
Reading the sophistry that tells it isn’t so
Although it’s true, I can’t avoid assigning
To propositions that expose me as a foe
Who benefits from this, keeps it low key
Despite that Bible warning, people judge
Way bigger than they know, they do agree
To disagree about subjects that seem large
But I’m not judging in response, being detached
I have enough to deal with on my plate
Generalized, historisized and tribalized
I’m not that recognized for one’s sweet hate.
locating the highest point on our head
we find there a node where magnetism spikes
assigning no meaning, by God’s hand led
as we give each bliss spasm a thousand likes
form sensing a shudder where rapture strikes
and as we pen these notes of bliss emotes
our vibrant presence in the void free floats
CLUSTERS OF EQUIVALENCE
mimetic
imitations
of equating
thoughts
in
formal
interrelational
analogies
a
phenomena
of
motions
perceived
assigning
intuition
uniquely
initiated
inexpressible
metaphysic
so
sublime
such
intense
sensibility
increasingly
overwhelmed
by
excitement
yet
immensely
empathetic
with
insistent
feelings
&
syncretist
tendencies
all
in
seemingly
paradoxical
harmony
the nose chakra vibrates
celebrating pranic breath drawn
commingled with bliss that never abates
God’s boundless grace is what presence counts on
the thirty three stringed spine as always stands erect
with tranquil heart balancing all energies in its fold
as a receptor we simply do as God does direct
revealing our aura aflame in hues of gold
awareness bilocation is now the norm
dancing in form and motionless in the void
kundalini moves as she likes birthing a bliss storm
whilst Shiva facilitates existence in stillness unalloyed
with ego erased we no longer weigh, measure or size
assigning no meanings to benedictions of grace
as we metamorphose we slowly do realise
God always holds us in close embrace
to abide in the truth hold firm resolve
assigning no grade to how we evolve
mindful not to be swayed by fickle fate
shining as the light that does not abate
Alliteration also allocates acceptable articulation.
Allowing admirable alphabetical allotments.
Activating appropriate acceptable annunciation.
Appreciating artful aspects assigning assiduous assonance.
Always alternating accurate alliterative acquisitions.
Anticipating amicable astute audience adjudication.
Acknowledging and awarding agreeable assessments.
Admiring another aspiring articulate author.
On the question of destiny and free will,
though life as impulsed will unfold as ordained,
feeling influx of grace, which God does instil,
our consciousness expands, from thought forms unchained,
whence the love dove perches on soul’s window sill,
revealing the light of Self, pure and unstained.
Spirit in form is here for a brief sojourn,
imbibing benign bliss burns in body urn.
When debts of love are repaid, in bliss we wade,
impacted no longer by the quirks of fate,
our non-judgmental eye assigning no grade,
knowing tempests that rise, will in time abate,
path of the heart offering bliss readymade,
propelling our presence straight through heaven’s gate.
Free will is the manner in which we respond,
choice of purity, forging with God a bond.
Contemplating, to whom does destiny come
and who is the doer, who seemingly acts,
in tranquil silence, betwixt bliss beat’s soft hum,
noticing how nodes within forge loving pacts,
aligned to the cadence of the cosmic drum,
whence negating the ego, since it reacts,
we see we’re not form but the life force itself,
recognised clearly as the light of our Self.
Mind pursues staid silence, assigning meaning,
thereby foiling purpose of meditation
but by promoting the thought pawn and queening,
ego dies in the stillness of cessation.
Doing nothing, save our head and heart linking,
upon attaining awareness unblinking,
the dark wisps of smoke in our heart centre clear,
whence we sense divine presence of God draw near.
assigning no grade
in love’s waters wade
therefrom emerging
with vibrance surging
be it joy or pain
the sunshine or rain
may heartbeats reflect
our soul’s stance erect
I’m assigning Aphrodite on the telephone:
Coach my love carriage; I can’t leave alone,
The fact that she’s a goddess:
For her body’s not modest;
This model of a woman,
The epitome;
I’d want, yes –
it is strange to me that a color means something
by itself, it elicits memories and experiences
orange is my go-to color, not blue or pink
yet did they dress me in orange when I was a baby?
in the fifties? I rather doubt it.
Actually, most of the photos of me as a baby
show me in a diaper and nothing else
and there are lots of them.
When I think blue I think neither boy or girl
I think, sky, the eyes of one of my children and the sea
blue is a color I always reach for when I am painting
for I despise a white background
I have painted more skies and seas than most
Probably fifteen hundred skies and seas
color is important to me;
I would not want to live in a world without it
But I could never assign one color to either sex.
Or all boys or all girls
Since no two children are the same.
“God dwells in our heart, just as we dwell in His ~
This is the truth, not a koan or a quiz”
~ quote by poet
The source wherefrom manifestations arise,
holds within Itself infinite vibrations,
which when crystallise, we weigh, measure and size,
assigning labels to imbibed sensations.
With this understanding we may realise
sacred geometry in God’s creations,
that as is on earth so it is in heaven,
pattern being same across chakras seven.
Someone asked us how we began,
in as what was our truth search plan
and the path to which we were drawn
to perform a consciousness scan?
We sleep when we’re prompted to yawn,
awaking to vibrance of dawn,
table laid for joy readymade,
soul transforming as life flows on.
Let us then call a spade a spade,
saying God’s always at our aid,
which we know not, for we’re in thought,
assigning our ego a grade.
In strobes of love and light we’re taught,
recognised if heart be not taut,
for which if we befriend the void,
we’ll frolic carefree as we ought.
No longer then by mind decoyed,
childlike heart pure and unalloyed,
lighting the lamp of love within,
God’s grace ignites our head ovoid.
Life is a dream, know there’s no sin.
Breath by breath let’s anew begin.
God dwells in the cave of our heart.
He calls to us; plunge in therein.
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