The mind, a dormant stone

Today, I found Bunny, who said faeries will arise with the blow of my husband's breath... Warming under garments expose to the tickling friction of soft lips; a combustible vibrato pattering down in tangy laps, how it howls the name of dignity, integrity, and song self-pro-loined, outstretched by racks of jasmine petals twined gently around the softest thigh, making time. A hum of gaining pleasure to lift and sway; translucent vestibule, orb dominated by the sound of fluttery melody. - Jessica M. Wilson 4/28/15 Green House Smoke Shop inspired

Thank you to my good friend, Sean Hill, for delivering this mantra in his poem... it has brought me much peace. Thank you to Gandhi, for being so selfless and leading by example. CHANGE! Be the CHANGE!

Today, there was a man on the train he was dipped in dapper and  dabbed a bit shabby, he was whole. a cane held him up. as the train jolted, he'd zig, but his feet held firm. He asked if we knew the most incredible entertainer in all the world. Dead eyes... silence, ears plugged with electronics sound escaping. He said, "Sammy Davis Jr." and began to sing "I got to be me...what else can I be but what I am...",  with each note  dragged into a deep cantos... He'd hum one note for seconds, a deep powerful growl and certainty. He was certain. ) When life seems that it no longer reflects what you aim to see in yourself in your love in your world that it does matter the words knock you on your head... "I gotta be me..." why would anyone want to live only partially alive? ( After he belted out the song without apology of invading spaces eyeballing faces with tears of acknowledgement, this is truth...  we clapped. I ...

I wanted to share with you my favorite poem written by Jim Morrison. I love his poetry. Why do I drink? So that I can write poetry. Sometimes when it’s all spun out and all that is ugly recedes into a deep sleep There is an awakening and all that remains is true. As the body is ravaged the spirit grows stronger. Forgive me Father for I know what I do. I want to hear the last Poem of the last Poet. - Jim Morrison