shamanfox

[shamanfox]

When love seems like a thousand shades

of a bad dream

It feels like

A crimson fire obtuse maddening

from broken pitch pipes that linger

in sun charged windows.

grasping at straws in the night,

under couches, lost and found bins or

molded cardboard

anyplace other than mirrors that surround.

unfolding all you have and know...

no way, no means.

If love, paints into corners

I still swear and sing that there are fresh flowers

springing among dandelions

that beneath every rock hides a rainbow

Yet if love is lost, I am tired of hiding away

light to find it...

My arms are broke from weight

of mirrors, eyes retired from sparkling

hope, or midnight.

stillness is traveling on, or back- going home

where lions roar, and bliss is in every nothing.

To see a smile again, reflecting within rain

to hear song birds in a thousand poems

To paint the sky in a masterpiece for sages to render speechless

I'm going to drink tea with Saints, and remember... Re member my first love.

Where kindness washes the back of charity

and forgiveness is warm bread on a sunny afternoon.

#wordart shamanfox poetry

[shamanfox]

The Relationship: How to Talk Adult to Adult

#shamanfox #piano #inventinghashtags #not-a-pianist #can’t read notes

[shamanfox]

I’m so tired

Of giving my brain

A blowjob

#shamanfox #random #if you get it you get it #psychology #multiple personality disorder #dissociative alters

[shamanfox]

#shamanfox #dance #Youtube

[shamanfox]

#shamanfox #Youtube

[shamanfox]

All the little liars standing in a row

beating one another

on the head of expectations

and

failures.

Im the London Bridge of catastrophe

biting down a bullet in a cats tongue

And all I ever saw

was my self

staring back

at me through a thousand eyes.

A thousand blank stares.

A thousand unanswered questions trapped in 10 billion dreams (or so)

The answer is always the same

I was running wild through fields of make believe, almost there...when I heard you call.

it was then I lost my breath in birth.

#poetry #shamanfox #poem

[shamanfox]

I should have wrote a love poem

and told you how your fingers

will burn when they hit the candle

and not the wax.

How the smoke filled room intoxicate

your eyes with venomous snapshot

reflection. just ready

For spring

Dear soul

if it mattered I would rip

words down from clouds

pierce my skin and bleed

memories…,

(of what really happened)

However I see, sea misty eyes and

fashionable lips are no comparison

to a sisterhood.

The days will roll as thunder

from your thighs. Where

sea men captivate you on the sky.

like creamy clouds that stir you

in a daydream of morning coffee.

The intimate flesh exchanges through

unseen channels of distance

beat your heart and flush your skin.

Once, he has leaked you of a few

good schemas a card will turn

from King to Joker. The trail from

honey to bread crumbs trap words

into a steel cage, where

your only resort is to flee. To be like

me now, licking wounds of deceit.

Consider this a poem, far be it from

love- or perhaps maybe

it is the

highest

form of

love.

When delusion in illusion rip

your soul of its last

clothing to bare your body before

everyone you hold dear, distant

sacred spaces now flashing

distorted neon green.

Speak! For words will fall

to the ground.

He said

green

and all the crowd roared with

belief.

Dear Sister, I will be leaving

my cave soon...I will leave the light on.

#poetry #shamanfox #spilledink

[shamanfox]

The sky opens in all it's madness

As hopes surf on monetary clouds

as though crystalline water crystals (only)

were fractal diamonds

truth

(never subjected to sun ray reality)

You could reason (as I once did)

that snowflakes or dandelion seeds

both grace wind in a wedding

dance. That space between "heaven"

and earth is where magic is

only lightly scripted...

where we gather our lines, our character

before the stage buries us in

illusions.

I wanted to tell you how rainbows work.

how they shape-shift stories whilst simply

kissing moist lips in sunbeams.

Telling me how we’re

were lost on roads of self, where paper

flowers writ words that never gave

a scent of truth.

As lungs collapse

after a third heart-break.

I suppose I will vow to be silent now,

bitching about it all... Is just as viable

as origami road side decor.

#poetry #shamanfox #poem #spilled ink

[shamanfox]

Upon eastern winds

gliding upon

a western soul

of forgotten memories

{{when time was without

as skin upon bones}}

fallen leaves leafs

Into, until, as if. Within

raging snow storms…

As but a hand that led

across

That bridge of heartbreak

When tales are told

weeping upon orange candlelights

As roots cease from

sight

sharing memories

of flying upon

bluest sky (of?)

snow capped mountains

I do not remember

you. Or me

yet my own flesh has felt your pain

hours

upon days

upon months

when/as my soul flew

with the

Eagle Of The Lake

until p. articles

Questioned

into wind

change/time/now/illusion

Quantum-izing

now

In a grain of sand

in the equation of time

~Shamanfox

#shamanfox #poetry #esoteric

[shamanfox]

Let it drop in pool of eternal light.

Where Skywalkers flight is nestled in clouds of imagination.

(Not of this world)

Just a footprint in grass, mountains for hills.

Just a whisper in heart of millions as one.

leave it be~ journey of for-told shadows root in trees of woman's thigh.

Where poet is bird, artist sky, musician as rain that floods earth in story.

There comes (time) when weight of un-known exceeds curiosity to under-stand.

Tiny bubbles emerge from ocean sand.

Drift as waters edge in worlds, universes with-in our mind.

Walk through twilight till dawn, speak riddles of rhythm lost in songs.

One sits in mountain, another as ledge.

For birds simply fly by as phantom memory lost in these dreams...we dream.

As feel-ing is for-gotten

In basic memory find one(self) laughing at drama through illusion.

#poetry #shamanfox #poem

[shamanfox]

Let words be as wine

uncorked phantom stirring

from unknown shadows

that begs in the silence

to be tasted.

In that it savors

upon first breath

warm

as honey and clove, an elixir

of goddess enflaming needs

first sip entering into soul.

May it caress every taste bud

in erotic dance of quivering ecstasy.

Drinkwords in

until they fill

being

rush blood from

imaginations of

silkened flesh

snake carve mesmerizing enchantments

witch-shaman.

Forget place

time.

Let the past fall from Universe(s)

Let future be only anticipation

of the next word, next sentence

wrap up into universal mind

poetry.

as the moonlit contentment

gliding on blankets of stars,

moving

to and fro

night into day,

Hoping for a

sunrise of gratitude, to awakens soul

with warm kisses upon goosebumps

offerings

expression

each time

read them.

See now, face to face, let words be as a whispers

as softly spoken breaths

upon your lips.

into your embrace

To wrap together with your spirit.

For my words create the dream worlds

where

the time in which we have been kept.

[shamanfox]

I should have wrote a love poem

and told you how your fingers

will burn when they hit the candle

and not the wax. How the smoke

filled room intoxicates your eyes

with a venomous snapshot reflection

just ready to spring. Dear soul

if it mattered I would rip the

words down from the clouds or

pierce my skin and bleed the memory

of what really happened. However

I know how sea misty eyes and

fashionable lips are no comparison

to sisterhood. The days will roll

like thunder from your thighs. Where

sea men captivate you on the sky

like creamy clouds that stir you

in a daydream of morning coffee.

The intimate flesh exchanges through

unseen channels of distance will

beat your heart and flush your skin.

Once, he has leaked you of a few

good schemas his card will turn

from King to Joker. The trail from

honey to bread crumbs that trap

your words into a steel cage, where

your only resort is to flee. To be like

me now, licking the wounds of deceit.

Consider this a poem, far be it from

love- or perhaps maybe it is the

highest form of love. When delusion

in illusion rips your soul of its last

clothing to bare your body before

everyone you hold dear, distant

sacred spaces now flashing the

distorted neon green. Speak! For the

words will fall to the ground. He said

green, and all the crowd roared with

belief. Dear Sister, I will be leaving

my cave soon...I will leave the light on.

#shamanfox #poetry #spilled ink

[shamanfox]

Sometimes I slip back into

a memory of once wanted

gnawing at buried bones

until the echo is reaching my

mind in hauntings about

how I wish, for that reaching

out through the veils of darkness

hands wiping tears and I am mourning

the being I once was. The daydreamer who

spent years in the gardens of roses

and believed that love meant golden

rings and laughing at the universal

law of change with a promise of forever.

I had to slay this from my heart-

I had to pluck out the stories of "Happily

Ever After" and forgotten blood stained

wedding gown, children with Fathers

who leave or smother with ownership

novelty items talking in third person until

I just want to smash the phone against the

wall- for all the fucked-up reasons I

did what I did, to begin with. Living

with the dangling of my precious children

before the lions den and trusting in nothing

because the thought of God was discarded

the first time I heard about how little Chinese girls were left to die...

Sometimes I daydream about how nice it

would be, to just be enough to say

"Be my forever" even when forever is nothing...

Sometimes it's the night stars are thought to be falling and wishes are believed to come true. When parents say "thank-you" and actually see all that I do is for nothing. Nothing- is love. I feel like I slay myself daily waiting for the morning when I will wake up

and what I dream is reality. Where I can be the goddess of my own creation.

With saying that love means planting a garden with four hands.

If I had a sword I'd battle the night. I'd find the mystery of god, matrix, extra terrestrial, myself, and I'd wrestle till one of us came up from the dust- and spoke words into becoming as easy as speaking... Just words, into life.

For suffering has gone on far too long and I'm tired of waiting, and exhausted from doing, and just flat out ready to battle the cosmos.

weary, battled within self to disintegrate the conditioning hardwired into the machine of self.

.

#shamanfox #spilledink

[shamanfox]

on whispering hollow bones sunken treasures and valley dolls dressed in steampunk madness:

"Let the fun begin!" Shouts the Ringmaster

I believe I am a sacred flying soul, separate from the photographs in my mind

separate from Science and Experience

that tells me again and again

"You...you are Nothingness...all alone, Vast, Undefined...lost in a little soul of a Daydream."

I believe that eyes carry chatter I fail to find truth,

or suck them into my soul safe from the hardships.

I believe everything is a fucking mess.

And I love the mess, because it's mine.

I believe in everything from perspective and nothing from truth-

Except that there is love, love for this lie.

I be...lie...ve

#poetry #shamanfox #poem

[shamanfox]

Come softly through the window

of make believe, forgetting who is her, or them or me. Just be.

Show me that place the sun hides your smile, as children we are- child creators. Stretching out limbs about hemispheres of our thoughts...we play

a starkly masquerade.

Im riddled through nothingness

Backscratching my pain. Rain filled fingertips caress my soul

haunting daydreams riding tides until every sea is silently lapping

my feet. Just a traveler-

I am and is all i am.

A jet setter, trend maker, shit taker, in old shore punk laced petticoats

[push-up isles in every color]

It is your lips in a delicate smile-

that calmed this robust thud

between sheets of ribs.

I

am

forever thin pressed between Holy Books

They call me Devil, full of thoughts driven by needs.

I hunger out beggars with soul scratching an anecdotes, metaphors and similes

(refinish that old time furniture, feed my soul with self-awareness bridges enlighten masks from their thrones)

there is a crack in twilight madness:

she is playing Marco Polo

keeping time in rolling laughter- until she strikes

me

down.

:really i strike myself down:

Pierce me oh comet, oh starry one.

I harbor my ship of daydreams just

seeking crevasses for satisfaction

of pleasured control.

It was only yesterday

You hid from me behind a crooked wood fence. I saw how beautiful a shape

of an eye can mesmerize

Oh how I love to be captivated by awe

I let myself go on billows of smoke,

dancing air

speechless, thoughtless entertaining

soul with your laughter,

as heavens rain down time

may it be infinite, my love for such

beauty can only weep at it's own sight.

Hope of your breath, dear life

for we sat together that evening into day.

Remember now heart- you took

my hand, into your breath

we designed a Really Good Story

{One summer night, when tides were high and moon full, A Shaman fire walker left home in trance to Never.

Never, never ever looked so good. She is riding rollercoaster experience and kissing chaos, full on mouth with tongue!}

We can laugh now sitting around that

campfire once called "gods"

Tendrils of loving extend infinitely

face to face

-ing not skin against breastbone

only vibrating light perceived as

hearts dancing in electric serene.

A hundred thousand words always rush my mind, tongued gnostic madness.

I respond in these exhales

Noting moments, as seconds

slowly stopping into

awkward silence

and gibberish.

#poetry #shamanfox #spilledink #poem

[shamanfox]

I'm not sure if I understood

what love felt like until I met

you. Something about return

Is unfolding in my soul.

I breathe in your words.

you say my poems are created

from the steel of suffering.

You unwind them around

your heart, eyes lit,

cave opened

Love Heals?

Sometime between

then and now you went from

liquid to solid and I am hearing

your thoughts as they run

course in my blood streaming

love love love

I feel you.

I thought I knew

what love meant when I held

my own,

when I walked away

from pain to embrace my mirrored

masked face as my only

true love,

finally...finally making

peace through war zones

of my mind.

Content to reign

alone as Mother, Sister, Daughter

Friend.

Leaving Lover to the

night when I am fading in and

out of a forgotten dream.

That someone outside myself could

be love(r) to me. I thought

I understood love meant

all that I am. Standing outside

my door my eyes behold my

soul in another form,

Just… loving

[shamanfox]

Love is a subject

glorified by apparitions

by lengthy ghosts

passer-bys

good-bye hosts.

Love was not

Cohens victory march

rather

a fluid stream that embedded

when evaporations

took breathing

under mud, seriously.

for love, always seems

to be lingering

in shadows and store-fronts

a bewildered face always browed in

question marks

across mindless thinking

dreaming.

Love lingers just on the corners of

the mouth

tasting like wine

or brandy

or nothing

just a phantom of a kiss

before bruises of unwelcome

by trying to hard

love.

Love is a subject

expanding, contracting

yet-never really

going

anywhere

just dancing in

strobe lights of existence

fluxing with prescribed

perceptions

then winged

she flys free when mirrors

are slates-free from creases.

Love forgive me if I trespass too long

you just smell like a garden I remembered

from an ancient place, before time.

#poetry #poem #shamanfox