Infinity Kiss

They said I should be bitter, resentful and scornful
And mourn you.
But I couldn’t find the seed of all hate
to plant in my heart’s garden bed.
When I think of your name, for some reason it’s all ok,
even if you are no longer there, to hold my hand.
Because the truth is sweet man,
you were the first and will always be, my soul’s friend.
Because you opened my eyes something beyond ordinary life,
Because after you I just could not go back to the way everything was,
Because you made me feel and believe in everyday organic magic,
you made me live a fantasy now I know really exists,
and now I’m not willing to settle for anything else than the love I learned
straight from the heat of your knowing gaze,
looking right through me, where no one else had seen…
After all these years of hiding behind an invisible veil,
which you slowly peeled and revealed my shy skin.
You saw me real, raw and bare,
but what’s most astounding is I wasn’t afraid,
I let you go there…
You unzipped my dress, the one I bought to impress
but what you found most impressive was me without the fancy drapes.

So I washed my face and even thought of shaving my head,
because you made me feel at home and comfortable in my flesh and bones,
Cherishing my textured skin and the soul that lives within
your sweet kisses fertilised love in me…
You saw the shy eyes, that had many tears cried
and you wiped the tears and heard the gasps
and weren’t disgusted by my frail hands,
the many shots I told you I misfired, you said it was all nothing.

And although you never dared
to tell me about you wounds as well,
I saw them, silently burn.
And although we never talked about it,
we both knew this bond we shared was something sacred, beyond the ego space.
I don’t know if our minds realised at the time,
our souls were executing their grand plan,
our spirits dancing vivid.

I could not ever hate you or forget you,
as tempting as it is because sometimes my ego stings
And burns jealousy, blame and envy….
Sometimes I try to tell myself I’ll find someone better out there,
someone who truly deserves me and is ready to claim me…
your loss, you know?

But the truth is I don’t want anyone to replace you.
I don’t ever want to replace love,
because although the story might not have gone as it was “supposed to”
we both know what went on was supernatural, and I don’t ever want to forget that.
I don’t know if something better will come,
but the love you ignited in my heart is enough
to last me this life and maybe the next, where we’ll meet again.

The reason I know this is love is because
although I try I just can not find resentment for you in my heart.
And when I close my eyes and see you in my heart’s eye
I just hope wherever you are… you have a smile, even if in other arms.
I just hope you are safe and happy and not afraid to be yourself
and go after what you deserve, because I’m doing the same.

In this day and age, the honourable tittle of “doormat”
is reserved for people like me
who open the doors of their heart and say
“come and go as you please”,
it’s an open feast.
In my case it’s a banquet and no regrets.
Because what else am I here for
if not to share the most precious thing I’ve got,
which is this love, fierce in my soul.

So no regrets my dear man.
In case you, ever think of me again
I’m sure you’ll know how to find me,
in dark alleys, in your dreams.
Where I sleep tight, with you
and feel infinity in a kiss.

My pen, my brush, my magic wand…

It’s nothing short of magical what writing is…
My soul exerts an addictive power when I write…
…Feelings, events, mental occasions that would otherwise be forever forgotten, vanished into the ethereal unknown from which they came from, become concrete reality, or as concrete as everything else our senses can perceive and our minds can decipher, and are given a chance at immortality… Permeated into paper or virtual scrolls, transmuted from person to person, through generations…

When penning down our thoughts, we produce a resilient offspring which can withstand the test of time and far outlive their creator…

Writing transforms the human soul from a mere passive spectator into an able dramatist with magical agency…
Pure alchemy… To transform mere mental synopses, moving energy, rapid electricity into factual phenomenons, realities only we have the power to bring about…

Through this process of creation, the human soul is redeemed.
The absurdity, the mundanity and pain of everyday life are  converted and upgraded, have new value and find yet another meaning…

Writing anything is shining a mindful spotlight into one of the many passing, fleeting yet potent moments of ordinary life which catch our attention enough to devote them mental energy to…

Writing is giving each moment a chance to explain itself, writing anything is a way to find justification of the idleness of ordinary everyday life…

Through writing you become, a magician, a sorcerer, with whole universes under our exclusive control.

There’s no right or wrong in writing, it’s whatever the soul is willing to reveal…
When I write, I let my soul purge itself…. Come clean and confess that which has been troubling it, whats bought it joy or that for which it longs….

Through writing I paint internal landscapes… The human vocabulary becomes my colourful, assorted palette…

Writing just like any art, is an attempt to transmute the virile mundanity of everyday life we’ve grown accustomed to into something other, that which our hearts can perceive but our minds can’t comprehend…

Thus, art only makes sense when expressed and received with the heart.

Art is the science of the heart. So to make art, to see art in your life, you must be willing to let yourself feel all that which maybe unconsciously we strive to anaesthetise ourselves from or become immune to maybe from constant exposure… Art calls for us to be at our most fragile, expose our dermis and embrace that vulnerability…

Art can heal, it’s the souls therapy… It’s free reign to express our deepest fears and highest ambitions… Good art, is the soul in its innate craft without inhibitions and parameters from the mind…

Good art is you impregnating, making love to your chosen medium… Not worrying about the outcome, enjoying every minute…

Good art can’t be forced… It’s a testament to the attentiveness and patience of the maker, for the subject will reveal itself…

Art is floating around waiting for those attentive enough to pick up its call and hear it’s message at whatever hour, wherever it may call…

Anyone is capable of great art, all you need is just to be willing to surrender yourself and become the messenger through which art manifests itself…
Letting go of any ppreconceived ideas of what it should be, and let it be as it is… As it wants to be, as it’s meant to be…

The artist is a messenger who must remain faithful and true to the source, giving up the egos agenda…
Art is made with whatever medium you have; if you have paint paint, if you have words write… If all you have is your two hands but you are really inspired to make art, then that nothing turns into anything and everything and your life becomes art…

Serve your soul; that’s where good art is born.

Beaming Hearts…

My heart will forever be open, for you to arrive and walk past… Come and go as you please. I’m not here to tease, but to make you feel at ease, show you how I miss your sweet mystic… Remind you how you really are unique.
I’m quite comfortable walking around barefoot and naked, exposing my soul, just the way I am…
Without much to give other than the one most precious thing I have, sharing my love…

For what are we here for if not to embrace our full quirky humanity and make love large to life and all it’s wonders… Make love to our sadness, to our grief, to our anxiety, to our fear, to our shame and insecurities…

Compassionately ameliorate all the wounds bleeding in our being and resolve the enigmas tormenting our psyches…Learn to cherish, nurture and infuse in our pain and difficulty, grow stronger and transform our virtuous souls…

To learn how to put our egos aside and rest in the ever expansive inclusive awareness of our interconnected essence as one universal family. One constant intermutating living organism that is this world as we know it… Assimilate and exercise a new compassionate way of being, a more benign alternative, where there’s no more or less, in fact we are all the same, yet authentic and invaluably valuable at the same time. Where we are all safe to simply be unapologetically ourselves in all our magnitude…
Although we are living in a ticking time bomb, although we are floating in the middle of ambiguous air, perhaps in the middle of impending doom… Where nothing is guaranteed, yet anything is possible… Where strife and pain are very real, yet we can still rest in peace because we are grounded in love… We have roots reaching down into the earth’s very core, impregnated with the life-giving, benevolent, loving nature of the universe… And so know that through this sturdy, hardy, love we can endure anything, we can achieve anything, we can live and experience everything…

 
For what is life if not one massive playground, with no safety rails…
A laboratory where we are free to experiment and draw our own conclusions, learn our own lessons…
A collective cosmic drama made up of a million of individual stories in which each one of us is the main characters and authors our own novels… A monumental play in which each day the universe is witness to our laughter, satisfaction and sorrow, our many victories and defeats yet one where the only audience to please is really our own souls…
So I’m not here to spend my days living in the sidelines, I’m not interested in a shallow virtual reality, I’m not here to hold back and be my own captor, to retain my impulse and thirst for life, to experience things which satisfy my soul… I’ve got cards to play and I’m out to risk it all… Life is a gamble and I’ve already won the major prize of living life each day, lovingly, from my heart, spreading kindness wherever I am…

 
So I’m not afraid of getting hurt.
My heart has been constantly broken and repaired from the day I came I into this earth.
One thing I’ve learnt is that love is wonderfull and love can be pain, but nevertheless love redeems itself. Since it’s been said that when you love until it hurts there’s no more pain, only love remains…
Love is the antidote to hate, love is magic, love is alchemy… Love reintegrates the shattered pieces animosity leaves behind… Love cleans up the mess of scarcity, injustice and malice… And lovingly, compassionately, ever so graciously, turns them into lessons for the soul, more valuable than gold.
Pain and love, go hand in hand, love makes pain worthwhile. Pain is the murky elixir in which sometimes our hearts have to maride, to grow tender and allow for love to shine through…
Love is the noble paladin which greets and meets harsh words with turning the other cheek. Love looks at fear and insecurity with sympathetic and understanding eyes and invites them to come inside, not fight but hear their discharge and realise there’s a middle way, where it can all coexist in harmony, past the momentary chaos, it’s all part of life…

 
So regardless of your history, you can put aside your misery. Pure and true love and life are freely available to anyone, anytime, you just have to rewire your mind. Silence the cognitive, analysing critic creating your punitive and unforgiving reality and instead start to listen to your instinctively kind and courageous heart, it knows the way, it’s really wiser than we think.

 
Because somewhere along the way you learn that knowledge is not wisdom, money is not fortune, you can have abundant company and still feel alone. You can have everything and anything you ever wanted yet still not be happy or satisfied, you can search the world over looking for love and peace yet still not feel complete, for this things are only found within, whenever, wherever you are… At any time, you can start the journey and follow the trail for coming home, listening to the yearnings and guidance of your soul…
So even though it can be a long, bumpy road, know you are not alone…
As for me, I will never get tired of proclaiming the miracle of everyday…
The miracle of being, of breathing, of thinking, of feeling…
Of creating whole galaxies out of nothing but ethereal passing mementoes of my imagination…
If you are not consumed by the wonder of everyday life, you are not doing something right… So it’s time to take off the glasses of rigidity, of cynicism, of expectation, of lies… And instead look at life with organic vision and appreciate the beauty and magnificence of every second no matter where you are or what you are doing… Every second has the potential for magic, it’s up to us to unlock it…
So go out and make love, make magic, make divine life happen… despite the tragedy, in the middle of the agony.
Draw a smile upon your heart.

“Let my soul smile through my heart and my heart smile through my eyes, that I may scatter rich smiles in sad hearts.” –  Paramahansa Yogananda

Being Free…

Freedom is breathing in deeply, exhaling and opening my eyes to the miracle of my existence…
Freedom is the liberating prospect of a inexhaustible possibilities….
Freedom is unlocking my throat and shouting out the top of lungs, having my voice heard, recording my thoughts and breathing life into my emotions, leaving a foot print and permeating my essence into the world…
Freedom is flicking my wand and spinning my dreams into reality…
Freedom is falling asleep at night and imagining Utopia… Living in Utopia
Freedom is smiling when I’m sad.
Freedom is right when there’s left
Freedom is love when there’s hate
Freedom is forgiveness

Freedom is not giving up.
Freedom is challenging the odds.
Freedom is devising another path.
Freedom is becoming lady luck, playing my cards right.

Freedom is knowing there’s calm after the storm, withstanding the storm.
Freedom is dancing in the rain, being soaked but remaining ardent inside.

Freedom is seeing shining sparkles in the dark.
Freedom is finding the intrinsic beauty of all things…
Freedom is planting the tree of kindness in desolate, rocky terrain and inviting everyone to feast on the fruits.

Freedom is waking up to my humanity, my temporality, that I’m dying.
Knowing that one day it’ll all be over, nothing lasts forever, no feeling is final.
Freedom is letting come and letting go, letting be…
Freedom is assimilating the impermanent and transient nature of all things.
Freedom is condensing into a droplet and merging with the ocean, sky… Air…
Everything and nothing.
Freedom is surrendering to the now.
Freedom is laughing at myself, at the absurdity of the critical importance of all my vain errands.
Freedom is providing that suited-up, politically-correct, stern individual who every day shows up in my mind to take care of business, a place to loosen up his tie, put the agenda aside, cancel all meetings and show up for the most important of all affairs and enterprises, this minute.
Freedom is knowing we are not invincible, becoming acquainted and accepting of the bounds of our flawed, imperfect mortality.
Freedom is being able to be anything in the world but still choosing to be ourselves.
Freedom is knowing you are enough.
Freedom is knowing this moment is just right.

Freedom is the metamorphosis of our hearts.
Freedom is the stillness of our minds.

Freedom is trust, freedom is faith.
Freedom is courage.
Freedom is risky and ambiguous.

Freedom is closing our eyes and jumping, knowing our wings will unfold or we’ll fall, but either way, somehow, we will land. Knowing gravity.
Freedom is not the absence of rules but accepting the rules, and playing by the rules.
Freedom is clarity, and the potential for anarchy

Freedom is an internal revolution.

Freedom is invoking and awakening the chameleon, the lion, the gazelle, the Phoenix… All the wild, mythical creatures dormant in our souls.

Freedom is falling from the tree, becoming ripe, becomes whole…
Freedom is seeing our reflections and blemishes we hide, hearing our suppressed yearnings and subconscious demands…
Freedom is knowing ourselves and having a fair trial.
Freedom is drafting up our personal constitutions and emancipating every realm of our being…
Freedom is commanding our energy and accepting responsibility for the waves we make…

Freedom is an everyday riot.
Freedom is rising above the physical constrains of our bodies and illusory prisons of our minds.
Freedom is enduring captivity and oppression.
Freedom is a repented, reformed convict.
Freedom is a faithful, devoted slave.
Freedom is being condemned for life but in spirit soaring high.

Freedom is our downfall.
Freedom is our human contradiction.
Freedom is fantasy.
Freedom is truth, the maximum expression of an unreal reality.

Freedom is catching glimpses of, sometimes touching the Divine.
Freedom is eternal awareness.
Freedom is rare, freedom is quiet.
Freedom is precious.

Freedom is our right.
Freedom is ours for the taking.
Freedom is waiting.
Freedom is being.

“None are more hopelessly enslaved than those who falsely believe they are free”  ― Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

Your Holocaust

The ignition in your being, a voracious fiery disaster.
Feel the scorching fire; let it burn.
Why not go ahead, sit in those incandescent radioactive coals.
Let your flesh be lit alive with crimson red flames, let the aura of the flares radiate your silhouette.
That blistering fire havocking inside no one can put out; yes, you just have to let it burn.
Let it consume you, a holocaust.
Don’t ask why, for you can’t see.
The smoke is blinding and impairing, the reason you can’t conceive .
Just feel.
You can’t burn forever.
Energy comes, energy goes, thermodynamics.
When the morning comes, you’ll see what’s left.
There in the ashes you’ll find a your clue.
Scatter your ashes, make it worth something.
This meaning… only you can formulate and decipher.
Or the wind will swipe away your remains.
So simple, yet so daunting.
This cremation of excruciating emotion.