message in a stare

Sacred. Holy. One week to press.
With the weight of a half thousand years
i confess.

So many months deluged with so many hundred tears.
Will we find our way home
or the renaissance of our fears?

Half of no one really cares or cares
to think about her.
That girl allison who left her bike locked to the school bike rack
yesterday. Helmet like a cradle still hanging from the lock.
Fifteen & this young american life
sprouted up bold

with spice & kick !

only then to a stand 

still?

Please don't get me started. cause i understand the pain. i feel it tonight just worse than ever. I am tired. Half insane. Weary men and women listen! Cause we are here. Well, some of y'all will listen-- those who have enough left to hear. And other unidentified walking objects get a shout out. dripping off the gate like morning dew. cradled by the wind. back to source through the air. A message in a stare.

Like those before us, we shall be tracked by tracking systems until we can be tracked no more.  Then we are lost or free. or both, if both may be... Just not downgraded to immobile media coverage task. Just not downloaded. Not forced into play.  Just not packaged with advertisements. God help us that we not be, no way.

No time for us to be distracted, to be distracted eats up time. Take your files and get in line, steady forward to the task. every sector in the urban 50 mile sprawl must be covered, just in case they ask.  The year might be 2027. Or it may as well have been. So far gone and yet far ahead of them. We meet in present time, of course, in future time united. By spirits of our past, energetically protected.

The pharmacological solution for weariness sxs is just to reach market! Her derivatives are Non-narcotic, uncontrolled solution. Spirits, triple variables, this is the scenario! One constant holding ground like an anchor pressed into the seafloor forever into dissolution. Reunification with source spells the end of all fragmentation, source is like light, enlightens the solution.

Source is sacred ash and vulnerable.  Spiritual energy. Source is humble. Anchored in the message. Means running around in circles searching and searching no more.

No longer feeling lonely.

going out there with courage.

Encouraged! Where loneliness gets discouraged. Where death cannot flourish. Keep moving! Dropping to the hardwood floor. Dripping your feelings fast between planks. Bye bye to Loneliness (its confidence tanks). Its global toxicity becomes local then less.

Human duplicity fades away,

spun out of the spokes of

true unitive rims rolling away.

Girl, the world aint pretty when you're all fragments. Its sharp and cuts us something terrible. To reconstitute may be by means agonizing. Tragically stitched. Exposing that which was self-inflicted. Self-dealt. Out-played and played out.... sounds exhausting this transformation but let me tell you... she is universally-felt.

Our world she gets broken apart, polluted and cut into, whether or not we or you think its a sin too. Then she's swirled together like Missouri, Joplin weather.
Disconsonant elements,
mashed through and through.

Sacred if you accept it, if you will
through and through
Turns black to red to blue and back to black again
 like your dragon tattoo...

The flavor like white stripes to
detroit heights, higher. Up to the upper peninsula! So inspired.

Hike and hike your skirt and let the clothing pull away

and  plant your self 

(your body glistening white like source

bright against the moist earth, dry clothes)

directly in the maelstrom
in the very vortex of

the maelstrom of

your life.