And the blue moon,
with a little quiver,
shook herself from
the rafter sky
and fell asleep
in my third eye
after drinking all night,
waking up with a hangover
that felt like
the grand canyon
trying to squeeze
its insides
into her head.
Dine with me and
eyes open wide and waking,
breathing all
the way down
to the toes
and through
the molten earth.
Devil dances in front of us
and tonight
was an evening
to enchant the blues
for a time
with hunger and delight.
In a world of trauma, crumbling cultural systems and shifting identities, we must write from our Third-Eye. All entries below are an attempt to do so... You can also find me here. https://www.facebook.com/propheticintrospection
Throat of the Dragon
I feel on fire,
electric with light.
Quite a quirky feeling,
sex and death,
phoenix ever rising
out of my head,
dragon breathing
through my throat.
Yet there are such
vacant moments,
silence sweeps my days,
my spirit
outside of my body,
swinging round the ethers
with my brother,
and then a shudder
goes through me
and I awake,
back in the “real”
and sadness
sinks me in her sand,
then anger
rides the storm out
and I sleep again.