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We Are Suspended In Transit

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  We are in Transit Poem: We step forward. Each step stirs dust into the air. The dry, shifting evening air. The sun is neither fully risen nor a witness. A silent guardian. Beginnings and endings, both here and just. At this hour. And yet shared. This is where time unravels. Where place dissolves and where movement lingers without. No words, no destination. This is the place. This is the sacred space. Each step cannot ignore faith. Where time unravels. Where movement lingers without end. A witness, a silent guardian. Beginnings and endings. Both here in the distance. The burden we carry is more than we thought. It is more than it is more than distance. It's the stories waiting to be uncovered. And the bond we strengthen along the way. Unanswered questions. Deferred dreams. The hope, the hope of arrival, leads us forward. At this threshold, we are neither lost nor found. We walk in the in-between. Each step whispers. Here we are. Here we are in the middle, in the middle and transit

Napkin Art - Zombie Pebbles

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Never mind my bad breath Welcome to my house This place where I never did feel at home I'm rotted by the bad news stuff My assumptions are forever waiting  Never did I gain the skills to control this space It was not like this when I was young Once I wanted to depart and escape It looked so much fun to jump right in But it now seems a lost cause I'm medicated from day to night  Walking from pillar to post I'm rotted and want to be alone I'm buried under a ton of grief Hating for what I have become Never did I care  Never was I interested Never was I present  My story of loss This life of fear and apprehension

Celeste Luminous Transcendence

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Overwhelm our logic From personalized layers of interpretation Feared, worshiped, and misunderstood From folklore to fairy-tales my story circles Threatening, protecting and wilding This uncivilized self This authentic nature This warning This I don't know My predatory nature  My sweat sweat talk Something is not quite right I am the death of me Challenge me to confront Better ruined than dead In this dream of crazy sounds I fiercely seek shelter from ill wind from shackles from shame Distant callings Come back into the light from devastation to heartbreak

Napkin Art Table 33

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Restoration of the ideal The Liberatores Why, this is violence? Et tu, Brute? We are once again free

Celeste Full Moon

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Focus and concentrate and you will miss You will be stymied by your knowing The answer is in your chaotic mind In the wonder In the divergent In your unconstrained creative cognition To survive you need greater conceptual expansion To extend traditional conceptual boundaries To break free as needed To invent the appropriate To manifest your original being Your beliefs are so exciting Hold onto them despite the evidence Reach for the moon and think outside of the box