Olokun is the Goddess of the Bottom of the Ocean of the West African Yoruba People.  At one time She was the Goddess of all Waters and all of the Oceans, for Her name means Owner (Olo) of Oceans…
Being in love is a world I will never know
Like the surface of Mars or in the paintings of van gogh
A glimpse into a dream one can never explain as the feeling of freedom beyond the earthly plane
Circumstances are to blame and my willingness to be alone
But sometimes I wonder if my heart is really home
Stuck in the cavity of herself, with no space to roam
Read me like a song
Staining your lips like honey on your fingertips
Tracing the lines of my body the result of weak infrastructure
I do not care that I am not good enough for your cool mellow tango
Nor that I do not share the same tendencies towards swagger like the other girls
Read me like the jagged poetry you hate
Perhaps I am salty to your taste
Better hydrate your veins with sea mist than to evaporate without knowing water at all
If I could write this insanity to you in a letter, I would but you do not strike me as the sentimental type
Prove me wrong by disbelieving the whispered hype of my tediousness
I have a garden no one has seen and yet I wish to share this secret space with you
If you would let me
If you would show me that I am interesting if only to pick up this book and make it to the first page
Maybe you would like my story
Maybe I would write you another one
To get lost in the intricate cracks in the side walk
Decorating the asphalt in three year old scribbles
Scrabbling the concrete barricade against the raw earth
Falling in between the synthetic mantle underneath the soles of my protected feet
In dreams of vast oceans filling up the dry valleys of boredom I speak
In the heat of the moment, lost in the secret caverns of completion
Here where the clouds are reborn, empty of the rain that once created it
Here where time has no place, grace and decorum not needed
No walls, no borders, just life, just flowing.
All there is and always was.
Lost in the tasteless sauce of being
Here, is where freedom reigns
Here there is meaning
The bridge floats in the ether
Atop the river Styx
Below the grey clouds
Death crosses it
Wooden planks black with sin
Life surrounds it
Protected by charms
Humanity fears it
No one truly knows what lies on the other side
Only the spirits are aware
But they are too weary to try
Demons there for the thrill
Angels here for the ride
Inch by inch I cross
Into the darkness
Into the light
I walked into a shop at the mall looking for new clothes to wear once. Gliding through the endless spectrum of colored fabric, fingers trying to guess the difference between a polyester blend and silk.
Not fashion forward enough to see the importance of the thread count, that is when the mirrors pounce knawing on entrenched insecurities, peeling away the fragile skin of my beauty.
The cracked glass of my radience nothing more than a scam to keep out what’s real. I never believed in the power of makeup. I still don’t no matter the chemical imbalance of the herbs strewn into my couldron of lies.
The glare of these mirrors more dangerous than bullets. More subtle than breath, more fearsome than the devil for through them lies the path to the prism of self hatred as my reflection is a reminder of the girl whose esteem was left behind, torn apart by vultures.
It is a frightening experience, when you realize that everything you thought you knew was wrong. When every definition of reality explained by scientists, researchers, religions and academia become meaningless. When the rationalized compartments of your mind ceases to produce thought forms, you ask yourself, what then?
What now? And most importantly, why?
Why is it easier to cling to a lie no matter how much the truth burns?
When the evidence of reality as it is and not what you imagined it to be starts revealing itself. Why, why now and how could you have not seen it?
When the answer has always been in front of you, whatever that may be, this is where the self blame comes in. The wretched state where you begin to hate your innocence, blame your foolishness. When you see for the first time that you are apart of humanity’s problem with discernment, despite all the HD cameras and satellites we are all still blind. The weather is still foggy. Regardless of the solar energy we would still rather use the fuel, as if we are on a suicide mission, a blessed race doomed from the start.
I thought I chased off the darkness before
I believed these heavy emotions were gone forever
I thought I was alive once more
But apparently, this battle isn’t over
Far from it actually
It bothers me how easily you dismiss my lethargy
For a mere physical imbalance in need of fixing
All illness begins with the dimming of the mind
The disconnect of the soul from itself
For optimal health I must first stop waking up to nothing
Dear God, Goddess, Universe, whatever
Give me a sign
Show me something
Have you ever seen a tape worm?
Those nasty tubes of disease ridden life forms
Feeding off the intestines of other living beings
Sucking their life blood dry
Infesting their organs, getting longer
And longer and longer until it reaches the brain then…
Then dies at 21 meters or 15 yards perhaps?
I’ve seen a tape worm
But not in its multi-dimensional bacterial form
These worms are human
They look like us, talk like us
Yet instead of infiltrating the bowels of your stomach
They plague the open sewers of your mind
Feeding off of your emotions
Not unlike the real virus
They contaminate the purity of your heart
Tugging on the veins of your sanity
Leeching off the nectar of your soul
Because empty they are, naught but vampires
Mooching off your light, they take control of your veins
Attempting to transmute your gold into iron…
They can’t even get the formula right
They haven’t even seen the darkness
For shadow they swallow too
Black holes spiraling out of control
They can only feed…
If you allow them
My mind has been shattered by the harsh truth of life. That not all things are as it should be for it is the way reality works. Twisted,warped,confusing and restricting to some degree. They say that life is what you make it but I’ve been trying to make it better for the past few years. Being told I’m too young to be a pessimist but it’s hard not to be when all that you’ve hoped for is nothing but a lie to keep you quiet. I can’t keep on pretending that everything is going to be fine. Nothing ever seems to be, even if outward appearances show the illusion of it’s not that bad and we are OK. It’s not, it’s really not. Why should I keep lying to myself?