Not all Healers will charge a fee,
Some will appear to touch your pain points,
Fingers Knowing exactly where to press.
Their own heart is a subscription service,
That knot in your back spoke so loudly,
Unperceived Tantric Rhythm, that's a yes.
Eyes Beaming with multiple timelines,
Hairs standing on end, Deserving of respect.
Aware in another life, we once met.
Never telling what they'll do,
Not warning you about the effects of the magic,
It suddenly just beams out of your chest.
Can't stop thinking about it now,
Nor can be brave enough to subscribe,
Memories standing out from the rest.
Sacred caressing to rip the ego to shreds,
Beauty together pre-empting an entire life shift,
The Silent Healer does it best.
The price is life as we know it,
Goosebumps telling a tale and preparing new,
Though you laid with them, now to yourself you must confess.
A child…in a foreign land.
Where we come from—it's all just sand.
Deserted the desert...
but still feeling tethered
to the place that feels
forever home.
Yet—that place
we can no longer roam.
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Left the home land with legislative laws.
As they contained loads of legality flaws.
The colour of my skin cutting at me like a saw.
No jobs, no work, it was my last straw.
Left the land I knew to go and find more.
Knowing that the Foreign Land would have something better in store.
When I moved—I thought my troubles would be soothed.
But found other trouble,
my persistent presence made the locals grumble.
Looked at as an immigrant,
but every day—
a defendant.
"They are stealing our jobs!"you say.
"They are stealing our wives!"you convey.
You never stopped to think—
That just maybe...
we're trying our best?
Yet...
we will always
be seen as less?
At home,
we've got families to feed,
we've got people who are in need.
But what you fail to understand—
We can't help them...
unless we are in the Foreign Land.
(a series of Senryu poems)
We no longer own
our music or software, we
we rent them - subscribe
Think streaming music,
productivity software,
like 365.
A company can
make one product and never
innovate again.
Once, you’d buy software
and they’d have to win your bucks
with something improved
But now you fee pay
monthly, forever - or you
lose that whatever.
Homes are out of reach
so people rent apartments,
Ubers replace cars
Think of subscriptions
as techo slavery, we
need alternatives
None of us can change
the housing situation
unless we team up
And elect people
who aren’t total thieves and fools
enriching themselves
It’s a crazy thought,
I know - are we capable
of it anymore?
.
.
A song for this
Touristy Places by Paul Russell
there is nothing new to report
except each pore is a bliss port
spine vibrant, head ovoid aflame
mind comprehends not its import
God realisation’s our aim
the prize on which we stake our claim
but the seeker must disappear
for our presence to win this game
as living light, what’s there to fear
more so when bliss beats within spear
divine entwined we vaporise
God Himself then our life does steer
when every breath feels like sunrise
we celebrate when ego dies
even though completion awaits
bliss thunder takes us to new highs
burning yearning never abates
we wait out turn at heaven’s gates
we’re suffused with bliss magnetism
God’s touch that ends futile debates
we subscribe not to any ism
yet bliss ignites mind-body prism
how this comes about mind knows not
it’s through an unknown mechanism
God posts to my heart daily,
Unfiltered by media man --
In touch with Spirit Divine
Truth, less out there than
In there – From CNN, ABC,
And their likes, when asked to
Subscribe, I politely decline.
To the tune of "Russians" by Sting
In America and Australia there's a growing hysteria
Comparing those who see global warming threat
To the North Koreans and the Soviets.
Mr. Inhofe said scientists lied to you,
I don't subscribe to that point of view
It's such an ignorant thing to tell
I hope deniers love their kids as well.
How can I save my little girl from the rule of Texas Oil?
We see misuses of common sense
By those the Right side of political fence
They don't care about biology
But only their false ideology
Believe me when I say to you
I hope deniers love their children too.
These people claim rationality as they deny planetary reality
And believe to be the soul of the nation as they practice prevarication
Freedom and wealth do not require
To burn oil or set rainforests on fire.
Mr. Limbaugh said it can't be true,
I don't subscribe to that point of view,
It's such an ignorant thing to tell
I hope deniers love their kids as well.
The facts of climatology
Are not dependent on ideology
What might save us, me, and you
Is if deniers love their children too.
POETRY SOUP IS GARBAGE
why did i subscribe to this nonsense?
read the terms and conditions
no foul language, nor innuendos
FFS...can we not be adults?
can we not express our true selves?
No, we gotta cater to the weak minds
the forever-effing-blind
keep pushin' that purity nonsense
so we can all stay in-line
ignore truth, ignore dissent
keep the simpletons happy
bury our burdens with a fake smile
for utmost accessibility
You don't need to be present in a church or subscribe to religion to be connected to more
You don't need to be receiving a pay check or income from an physical organisation or other individual to be working or to have purpose
You don't need to be an enrolled Dancer in a studio, team and culture to be a Dancer
You don't need to have paid mentors, because some mentor has a paid mentor and has told you not to use your intuition and to just be inspired.
You don't need to be in a meditative state or do psychedelics to see more than this plane.
You don't need to follow trends when your God and your intuition is leading you to set one.
You don't need to be seen or validated by others in order to be great.
Greatness lies within...
And that's where the real challenge is.
Is your greatness self serving, inflating and servicing?
Or is it a vessel to help others understand theirs.
Who do you do you for?
Can you be quiet, listen and be directed in your most quiet, darkest and blind state.
Close your eyes and listen.
It's the season of false prophets...
coming into thick bloom online
at the end of their windless chime
they tell you to click and subscribe.
When predictions don't come to fruition
(thinking we've forgotten), they reset the timeline.
Ayahuasca is the latest fad...
At 5 grand a pop, it's an expensive shortcut
to the Cheshire Cat of Alice land.
I see profiteers pretending to be shamans,
puppeteers digging graves of the desperate.
My Friends take the long brutal path
It's honest and pristine.
The book says we'd not know the time nor day.
but would see signs within the season.
The false ones have predicted end times
since the beginning of time.
Their time is twisted by fear
their wisdom stained by ego
and distorted in profit.
Despite the deep haze and barbed veil.
We must not lose sight of humanity.
Despite waves of distraction and suffocation
we must not forget to breathe.
Despite the devils of division,
don't forget to give and unite.
Most of all, don't fear the long, steep path; its reward is eternal light.
These models of worldly success
In the kingdom
Of the wandering tribe
A whole global country
Now seemingly does subscribe
Formed into their world of greed
Forced into a half living dead being
By witches of the Wall Street creed
With nauseating materialism agreeing
Creatures of the living dead
Of Emptiness, with no real net worth
Of Ostentation and mental dread
A curse upon all the Earth
And all things living on it.
.
'All work and no play
may make a dullard out of Jack'
or so someone
was heard to crack
but all talk an no work
will not get the job done
yet world leaders fly round the globe
to discuss the environment
but forget their carbon footprints
and simply write it off
as merely entertainment
such discussions could be held
via the Internet web of intrigue
why they won't is beyond my ken
altho' I pay their way
they must be out of my league
'Every man for himself'
is more than a selfish diatribe
but 'One for all and all for one'
thanks to Mr. Dumas
(1802 – 1870)
is a phrase to which I can subscribe
From this man's perspective I find
the problem with society
I would say is mankind
the most dangerous animal on earth
also and for what it's worth
don't believe me take a look
too many followers of F'book
the absolute epicentre
of disinformation
of sanity an aberration
the CEO (almost) single-handedly
destroyed civilised society as we once knew it
and after his self-confessed wrongdoing
it's beyond my ken
why anyone would subscribe to it
a wise man he once said to me,
'Neither a follower nor a leader be'
yet if they take to wade or wallow in your wake
it's their choice to make
If an apple a day
keeps the doctor away
to such proverb
he'd not subscribe
as the income lost
to defray his cost
foolish he would ascribe
and instead
if looking sickly feeling ill
on my deathbed
a home visit plus pill
he'd quickly prescribe
as a patient I used to be
but now a customer that is me
and the Hippocratic Oath
he ducks like a quack
as to quote it he is quite loath
Who benefits from my belief?
Because the last I checked it wasn't me
I mean I am a black girl
Living In a racist misogynistic world
Because why would I worship a god who allowed my people to suffer
Yet caters to the needs of our oppressors
Allows them to call us s
Why would I believe
Why would I worship
Why would I pray
To a god who ignored my ancestors
Please go ahead
Make me understand
How your god created this world
But allows racism
So tell me how religion benefits a black person
Because to me and many others
It seems like a weapon
To keep us broken
In a world that sees us as subhuman
As 'god' watches us suffer
Whilst having the power
To fix this problem
So I ask again
Who benefits from my belief
The only correct answer
Is those who don't look like me
So why would I subscribe
To a religion
To a god
Who clearly hates me
The New Yorker is having a birthday –
It’s made it to one hundred years.
With each story, cartoon, poem or essay,
It’s jump-started many careers.
Despite what it’s called, you can buy it
At newsstands or else go on line
And subscribe – since my brother did try it,
He gets his in the mail before mine!
Colorado is where he is living;
We both read it and then we discuss
All the articles that it keeps giving
To curious people like us.
I have some complaints – sometimes writing
Prattles on many pages too long
And most poems, instead of delighting,
Make no sense and I don’t think I’m wrong.
Yet I’m happy for every arrival,
With a crossword to tackle, as well,
And I hope its continued survival
Will outlast those whom truth would dispel.
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