Metempsychosis process

Stop the clocks and burn the books.
Too many reasons and motives.
Give me something I can now believe in.
To peel off my bones and to rest upon my heart.
Take us back to the start.
Gather up the pieces of the broken.
Pulled down marbled statues of the gods of ourselves.
Diminish and restore. Re-surge and adore.
The tiny copper heart. The china cupped girl.
Things that can be stored in the cupboard of god.
Sprinkled with spice and the nectar of the familiar.
Don’t talk to me now of being alone.
Hold the tongue that speaks of a frozen heart.
Thaw on my brain and melt into mecca.
A shiny version of you.

Intertwined

Our souls so pure they all align.
Separated only by thoughts and time.
Which hold a love that extends to all.
Who reign above, or those who fall.
And do not let the world go dark.
But ignite the hope within each spark.
This alchemy that turns hate to kind.
Our lives, our world, all intertwined.

You stopped the rain

What becomes of all of us?
Down in the depths, floating on the sea of time.
Who pulls us back? Who throws the ropes of salvation?
She dwelled long and lonely under the waves.
Wrinkling into memory as the salt clogged her bones.
But the dreams wouldn’t fade like a dying star.
The hope threaded around her heart like roots of a tree.
New lips breathed the life back into her.
Tomorrow’s soul and eternity’s hand.
Raised her from her watery grave.
Covering her in love and picking away the scabs of sorrow.
She smiled and laughed as they ignited within the pilot fire.
Which shifted fate, and scared the fish.

Kiss me like a stranger

How long had she been driving? The sky above her was threatening the night, while bullet lights of passing cars pierced her eyes. She had left that morning, surprised by so many things that were happening, but no longer surprised by being surprised.

She had packed up things so quickly. Everything swept away with such ease she felt she could be erased from life in a blink of an eye and no-one would notice, no one would care. A part of her doubted she would even go through with it. But down the highway heading out away from town she smiled to herself, a scared secret smile that she was doing the right thing. Not the best thing, this would not make her instantly happy or even make the pain stop. But it was the right thing to do.

She yawned theatrically, and pushed her hair back catching her nail in some of the strands. She opened the car window for the cool air to wake her up a little. Her phone had been switched off since she’d left, she knew there would be endless calls and texts until she was located; talked around and called back. She was happy to silence that. The radio rang out, lifting her spirits as the night closed in on that highway which was getting more isolated. The lights in the distance were getting further apart and she knew she was hitting the ‘Quietlands’, the stretch of road that coursed through a mini desert with nothing of interest on either side of her.

She was getting tired, and she was hot still, even as the day’s heat descended. She felt grubby and sweaty, her back sticking to the seat of the car as she zoomed away from her past. She knew her destination. She had had it planned and etched I her mind for years now. She knew which road to take and how long it would be until she got there, and she planned to drive through the night to make it.  Her eyes were getting heavy though. The lids dropping like a shutter to a store closing for the night.

She took a right turn down a road she knew was wrong almost instantly. The silent highway tarmac gave way to a rough dirt track which snaked around the cactus and mounds of earth. She stopped suddenly, releasing she had gone wrong and put the car in reverse when he spotted some dim lights up ahead. They weren’t moving, and she guessed they were pulled to the side of the road. What a shitty place to break down she thought and put the car into gear and drove slowly up to where the other one was parked.

She pulled alongside the car, which she noticed too was the same model as her own. At least she might be able to help fix it, her own car had given her quite a few problems over the years, and she always carried a spare of everything. The sun had disappeared over the horizon now with the slither of light hanging on to the blue black sky. Though the lights were on, she couldn’t see anyone at first.

“Hello?” She called out, though the open window of her car.

It was then she appeared.

She floated as if on a sea of crimson, her red dress puncturing the sandy track like blood slashed across flesh. She came from the bushes, her hair immaculate with a faraway look in her eye. Jessie was a little taken aback, but she called out again; assuming she had not heard her as she had not replied.

“Hello, do you need some help.”

The woman smiled and carried on over to her car where she knelt on the wound down window.

“Hey. What’s up?” She said, as if meeting on old friend.

Jessie looked at her through the dying light of the day, framed in her car’s window pain. She was everything she had wanted to be once. She looked immaculate, like she was stepping out onto the town. She wore a confidence that married her friendliness well, the two playing out for the audience of anyone.

“Do you need help, is your car broken down?” Jessie asked, smiling encouragingly.

“That piece of shit? It’s old, but it’s working.” The woman replied, giving Jessie the once over.
“Oh, I thought you might be in some sort of trouble?” Jessie asked, making it a question.

“Trouble?” the woman asked curiously, and laughed a little. And with that she turned around and walked back to her car.

Jessie watched her, momentarily unsure of what to do. She then suddenly felt the urge to get out of her own car. She unbuckled her seatbelt and climbed out of her dusty machine which whirled and deflated after the long hot day.

“What’s your name?” The woman asked her, as if beckoning her over. Jessie made her way over to the car, the same colour as her own yet caked in dirt as if it had emerged up out of the sand.

“Jessie, how about you?” She replied. The woman had jumped up onto the bonnet now, sitting upon it like a kid.

“Where you heading?” she replied, avoiding the question. Though Jessie didn’t feel any danger, she didn’t want to tell anyone where she was headed. She knew once the world knew, it would throw up things to pull her back. Back to the life she never had wanted to live from the start.

“A long way away. Listen, if you do need any help, I’m happy to assist.” Jessie said, listening to the desert around them open to the twilight.

“You running away?” She asked suddenly.

“No.” Jessie replied defiantly. She saw something then flash in front of the woman’s eyes. The same defiance that twisted and churned in her own belly. “No. I’m making some changes for the better is all.” She added.

“What’s so bad that you’re leaving behind?” She asked.

“Urm…listen, if you don’t mind. I need to get going. So if you do need any help, please say.” Jessie said, politely but firmly. She was always one to go along with what people said and wanted, but she was indeed trying to make some changes in her life and now was a good time as any.

The woman cast her eyes down to the ground, while she toyed with the sunglasses she had in hand. As if finding what she was looking for there, she looked up at Jessie.

“Is it Jack?” The woman asked suddenly. Flaring her eyes. Jessie glared at her, not sure of what was happening.

“What?” she asked, a slither of understanding falling down from the sky.

“Or is it slowly seeing the dream you dreamt back when you were only twelve, wither and die like everything out here. Cooked and charred in the sun until it blows away into time?” She said.

Jessie stared at her, sensing something familiar. She looked at the car, the licence plate covered up in dust and dirt. She looked quickly into the passenger seat, spotting a duffle bag and vanity case.

Suddenly the woman jumped off of the bonnet and came towards her, grabbing her face and kissing her quickly on the mouth. Jessie couldn’t help it, but she closed her eyes; tasting the watermelon lips and feeling the hazy intensity. She pulled her in close, cocooning her away from the world in a moment where all made sense to her. Her mind flashed back to her old house, the smell of takeaways and the cheap cologne.

They parted as suddenly as they begun, Jessie knew then what she needed to do. She dropped to the floor and grabbed the largest stone she could find. Picking it up, she launched it over and over again into the woman’s skull, battering her down into a scarlet pulp that matched the inappropriate dress she was wearing. She threw the rock off into the buses near to where the other car was parked and then returned to her own. Her hands were shaking, and blood smeared onto the steering wheel as she turned it around and sped off back towards the main road. As she glanced in her rear-view mirror, she noticed the headlights of the other car had faded, snubbed out like the life of the woman who now lay in the dirt, beaten and crumpled and gone from this world.

When Jessie got to the main road, she turned right, accelerating hard into the direction she had been heading before.

After a few miles, the blood on the steering wheel had faded away and her breathing had now returned to normal. She reached over to her own small bag she had on the front seat and took out her lipstick. She smeared the scarlet shade across her lips, puckering in the mirror as she sped off into the night. Determined more than ever to get away, and to get to the place she had planned to in her dreams for years. Not looking back once.

Mountains

Mountains. As far as the eye can see.
Snow-capped pillars reaching to prick God’s finger.
Hue away the mountainside, take the flesh away from the monster.
Are we rocks if we separate, or still part of that hill?
That unmovable Olympus staining my life’s sky.
Mountains shift and quake when you tremble.
Pushing me further, higher and stronger.
Cutting off the air that warms and suffocates these lungs.
This horizon bleeds a new tomorrow.
Sinking into these weary bones of today.
I do not long for flat plains or tempered air.
This challenge of life hits hard where it needs to.
The frigid terrain, freezing the sweat and blood on my fingertips.
Making me feel each breath that squeezes out at altitude.
Forcing me to look back and see how far I’ve come.
Planting flags in view, no longer in quicksand.
Lofty and up high, as my ego sinks below.
Waiting to ring in the new day, thousands of feet above yesterday’s malaise.
Mountains. All around where this eye roams.
Sealing in nothing but change.

Shift kiss

Take your hand off your eyes. See the sky above ignite.
Do not fall down into that soily grave alone.
Holding the hands of no-one.
Let the universe pulse in your veins.
Feel a fresh kiss of heroin as you save a life.
Save your own.
Communicate and reverberate this feeling.
Coursing and freewheeling.
Tumbling off of each kiss you give.
Each smile that slips into the dark.
To light the shadows like roman candles.
Let your galaxy slide into view.
Forget the hue of distrust and knee jerk distaste.
Taste me now. Let me in.
Strip way that cotton shell you’re living in.
Drink. Dive. Repeat.
Do not even give it a name.
Feel the ebb and flow as the old world shatters.
Sink into a sunbeam, radiating a love for everyone.
A neighbour, a lover.
A god in another skin.
Look within.

Vanishing points appear

A black stream as long as the nightingale’s song.
Whose home has been rearranged?
Who swims now in the shallow?
Inside the pulsating pride of regret.
Choices on the riverbed, washed over in time.
Forget me nots falling out of love and out of the sky.
Catching you in spider webs and safety nets.
Nothing could save you from death.
From the doubt that you built as your shelter.
Smashed by the rains of immortality.
How could your soul grow in unhealed hands?
Pebbled and black like the stream that forever flows.
Around the bend, leading to a sea.
Trickling into time.

A Place in the stars

(Not part of, but in conjunction with ‘Echoes in space’)

Lots of people were afraid. Rationale and irrational fears grew like ivy in the cluttered world he lived in. As Jerimiah grew up, he found fear was just a pat of life. His sister had always been afraid of spiders. Snakes too, though spiders were a more every day hazard, bringing out an alarming response from her no matter who was around. He never forgot the day she found one in her bed when she was going to sleep, the screams had echoed down into the street making the dogs in the neighbour’s yard bark. They had shared a bedroom in the old house then, out of necessity more than anything else. It wasn’t until he was five years old that he had a room of his own. Of course, this came with the collapse of his parent’s marriage and he would have traded in a second the large bedroom at his father’s house, for the pokey one he shared with his sister. At least that way they would still be together. But people, like marriages collapse. His sister departing only a year into his larger bedroom life, not from a spider attack, but from the leukaemia that had corroded her from the inside.

Jerimiah was afraid of one thing, and one thing only. He was afraid of time. How it snuck in on him and those he loved. Snatching away those things, and people he held dear. Turning, tumbling and changing his little world that he would want to keep secret and safe under a bell jar. He would look up into the night’s sky and see the stars blinkering above him. Fixed into position like reliable Christmas lights, always there like the season, waiting to bring joy. It wasn’t until he was much older that he learned the true nature of space. The twirling chaos that attacked the cosmos, with everything in flux. But for that six year boy within him still, he would always see safety and security in the stars. His friends that were always there like jewels in black cement.

Jerimiah though was understanding about people’s fears. He understood why his sister had been afraid of spiders. How her mind would run with a thousand possibilities of what could happen, and the deathly mist that surrounded them and the poisonousness possibilities. Much like he understood people’s fear of flying. He had met an old lady on a flight to Rome once before, sitting in the aisle seat next to him. She was so afraid, her white knuckles had gripped onto the armrest for the duration of the flight, her eyes closed as if in silent prayer to keep her aloft, and to land safely in the eternal city. He had wondered what she was so desperate to live for, what in her life was she so afraid of losing. One’s death being usually a horrible climax of pain and distress, but momentary. What was she so afraid of not completing? What had her life really been about?

He had sat there himself on that small plane, thousands of miles above the French Alps, watching the snow-capped peaks shimmering in the sun. If they were to descend; collapse in a fiery demise and be strewn in wreckage across the snowy landscape, what was he missing out on? What in his life was he left to accomplish or leave behind? He would be missed of course. His partner would be distraught, and tears would be shed. But life would go on, time would cover the hurt up in sand and silence. Changing once more the nature of things.

Time. His biggest enemy.

He had landed in Rome safe and sound, the flight not having crashed like many unfortunate others had. He had quit is job that very day, enjoying a nice little holiday there instead of the work he had come there to do.

If he had known he were to die at the age of thirty three, Jerimiah would probably not have done things much different than he had. He would most likely have avoided a lot more arguments. Those stupid back and forths with people over things that mean nothing to wider universe. He knew time was always against him, under his feet like an escalator he couldn’t stop or slow down. In this way, he lived a full life. He understood the preciousness and fragility of life. He squeezed his partner a bit more when they hugged and kissed. He meant it more when he said I love you. Perfection was not to be a part of his existence on earth, yet Jerimiah saw the bigger picture. It was all a blink in the eye of God, and he knew he had no time to waste.

When at thirty three, he reached the top of the escalator, he glanced over the side to see how far he’d come. It all looked so small and crushable from his vantage point. He was alone, but he wasn’t sad. He could see his friends glittering their celestial magic as diamonds across the inky black. Their luminosity radiant and strong like a million burning suns. And he took his place in the stars, content and happy that the clocks had finally stopped ticking.

Spider webs trapped the sun

In her room where the lamps flicker.
Within the corners, like those in her mind.
A devil does sit. A demon does wait.
Clicking tongues and painting her red.
She pulls away from this earth.
Disconnecting the gossamer thread that keeps her fire a flame.
Pulling her teeth out to give them something they needed.
A token for her pound of flesh.
She clipped her own wings so stay.
Only once, yet she lives with that decision.
Tarred and feathered in her dance of the daisies.
Each one waiting to be plucked.
So when the night draws in and those devils shift their feet.
Around her heart a deathly mist doth coil.
Unprotected.
Dangerously defeated.
Flashing her years before her like signs on a road.
Too late to turn back.
Too late to change the destination.

Unchained symphony

And she landed, a million miles from where she begun.
By the setting sun.
Casting its long shadow over a dying beast.
A monster of misogyny and inequation.
Scratching the head of those scholared men.
Who wrote the rule book, who watch now as it burns.
Sending their eyes to fire and ashes towards the deep.
A sinking ship of the unrighteous, captain rats going down with their pride.
She thinks of them not, as she stretches over oceans and space.
Checking in the borrowed time of her mother’s generation.
Her grandmother’s tenacious hope, that all will be put right.
Twitch your ears, and soar your spirit into the unknown.
Liberated from the yoke of self-doubt.
Tired of walking on egg shells.
She can be found, if you care to look.
Out on the rocks, away from the lighthouse.
Far from the maddening crowd, holding tight.
Covered in jewels and perspiration.
Forging a new world for those yet to be.

Tears in the chrysalis

Who knew the fury in that silent smile?
Little iceberg teeth bitten by the frost of circumstance.
Does she look to the sky, hurrying the rain to fall?
To wash away the paint on her wedding dress;
the coal in her brain or the handcuffs around her heart?
What song does she hum along to, that drifts in her world.
Staining the air around her, cloaking her against ill intent.
Like a red string around the wrist.
Drawn free from the granite and the prehistoric amber.
The carbon colouring in her eyes that repeats.
All tears mass-produced.
At the sight of the grey shadow in the distance.
The lonely cry of a wolf sent, to scare away the butterflies.

Permafrost and penitence

Let the snow cover us.
Wash it all over you.
Burying us away from the curse on our backs.
The virtue held within our hand that freezes in the light of day.
We carve an icy castle, high into the sky.
A towering vision of babel that tickles God.
As he watches on through tears.
Churches burn their own preachers.
And sinners feed their own fires.
I’m watching for the wind to change.
The tide to turn.
The dark to fade.
Tasting the snowflakes of reversal, that turn out to be only ash.
From the fires that we kindle.
Blown high from our own selfish air of importance.
Defying God, and the karma that collects like rain in the gutter of our souls.
Find me, covered in snow and living out my own ice-age.
Safe on a comet, shooting away from this earth.

Contract & construct

That reason we all had for being there.
Through shared DNA and the tears of Jesus.
Waiting for the smoke to clear and the dust to settle.
Yet deep inside a fire burns.
Turning all to ashes and cleansing from within.
Who do you ask forgiveness off?
As you hand across a world that is riddled with pain.
What did you blame as you clung to indifference?
When the world darkened as black as the night.
But do not drown in this consequence.
Or be blown away in this havoc.
It maybe all borrowed time, but it’s ours to own.
And the rest is still unwritten.

Liberation

Covered in tar and tears. Watching the new world turn over.
Smothering me in a shadow of time.
All those instances of comprise.
Drilled down to the core of my soul.
So I let it go.
Ultimately the only way is out.
Running naked in the streets
Cast off these ties that bind, if the shackles continue to rub.
Reclaiming this fate for my own, no longer drifting to the abyss.
Standing to fight.
Marching in a time of movement.
Buzzing with the sound of change.

Freedom is a privilege

Did you remember, or were you hoping to forget?
Underneath this skin, brown and course like the worked route.
That strange fruit.
Was red and wet.
What were you hoping for, a different kind of history?
One without me. Without such pity.
Look back in disgust if you must.
But these strong roots have grown from that toil.
Of being in place that we should never have been.
Never being seen.
If we spin the past and tip it over.
Reverse the world and replace colour with white.
How would you have felt with the blood on your shoulders?
And not on your hands, as you sleep at night.
Under this skin, of white and of brown.
In the bones that register no preference for colour.
That break on impact, and hearts that hurt all the same.
And as this world grows again much darker, and fear and hate find new friends.
Extend your hands, and reach for any colour palm.
And fight once again for freedom.

Sending myself flowers

When the universe rests, and slumbers in my mind.
And all around me is still.
I take this chance to apologise.
For who I have become. For who I wanted to be.
An apology for me.
Within these cracks and slithers of my soul.
That remain unfettered to moral decay.
I brush the hurt away. And send myself flowers.
Hoping to turn over those leaves, and find you.

Pieces of time

Have you seen?
Have you seen this life we lead?
Fragments of space locked in time.
I stand on this beach, with each grain beneath my feet.
Ground down from rocks and God grinding his teeth.
This sea has washed a thousand shores.
These tears have dried a million times before.
Did I miss something? The big reveal?
My hands are empty as I forget how this felt.
Closing my eyes I feel it wash over me.
These pieces of time we cling to like driftwood.
Was I wrong to run? Or weak to stay?
(I don’t know so please don’t answer)
I cling faster now, each splinter a memory driving its way to my heart.
You can find me here, holding your hand.
Encircling this moment I wish to stretch out for eternity.
Don’t pity me, I can see that in your eyes.
Let us disappear and fall once again into your own jealousy.
Leapfrogging to another piece of your own space and time.
Alone again.
We watch as the beach rises and the moon turns over.
Capturing us forever in this bottle on the sand.

Hold on to me

Our task is to transform ourselves into awakened multidimensional beings.
Thus fully merging the fourth and fifth dimensions into the third.
It is the inner union between Earth ascending and Heaven descending.
This sacred merger has already been achieved by many of us.
And numerous others are awakening daily as the Call steadfastly intensifies.
We are reclaiming our Divine Birthright and Heritage.
Remembering that we are Angels incarnate, vast starry beings of Light
who are no longer limited and bound by the illusions of time, space and matter.

We are ready to join as emanations of the One.
The new doorways cannot be opened or passed through,
by any of us still operating as individual beings of consciousness
They are brought into manifestation through our Unified Presence.
Through our focused intent.
Through our total commitment to serving our Higher Purpose.
This is the bridge to an entirely different energy patterning.
It is the step beyond the known dimensional universe.
It is a journey into the unknown which shall lead us ever closer to home…..

‘Hold on to me’ – By Placebo

Cursory reverie

When you’re wrong you’re right.
How blessed you are, what fallen angel are you?
Yet your crown looks crooked, tin foil all twisted.
Below my feet, the earth is no longer there. You’ve lost me in your sky.
Lost me in your world, where the rules don’t apply.
Yet there are fires of destruction burning on my tongue.
Ready to lick at your cheek, come into me.
My hands, feeling to where the wings should be.
Asking me to stay in your version of paradise.
Wanting me to stay talking to your strangers.
Breathing underwater.
I’ve got too many blocks, too many eye rolls. They didn’t get there by themselves.
So you’re not going to find me there.
Memorising the ABCs of your life.
I’m breaking free, digging it out. Making good on the change.
Shaking it off.
Growing up.
Reciprocity was just my wandering reflection.
Love was just a passing thought.

The Other shore

Scrapping it off my soul.
Place the razor, safely first.
Wring out the black. Lighten. Flow. Relax.
Cough. Once, twice. Let the black smoke drift away.
The light is where you shall bathe.
Imprints and sins dig deep like barnacles and sand crabs.
Burrowing for survival.
Yet the Buddhist in me does not wish to kill them.
Shake them off, strip them away. Let the mud and toxic blood defuse.
Transfuse and melt beyond tomorrow.
Scrubbing my halo.
Dusting off my wings.
Bring my happy back again. In beautiful Technicolor.
A cocktail of antibiotics, hope and acknowledgement accompany my humble pie.
The mirror facing, soul searching reason for change.
And Change we must.
The traveling, motioning blurring fight for tomorrow.
The face of you, as I swim to the ocean floor.