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slow circling enzo

its a  relatively slow process

livingness

knowing this way of love was off from the beginning

critical eyes with no windows in

crawling to

peddling a slow and winding ribbon of sidewalk amongst military barracks

littered with broken  bottles of courage of all those maimed dreams 

slipping up the sides of shingled walls 

facing the wrong way 

to the sky

in order to fly up

instead

tripping into the arms of God

into promise that all would be well

as soon as  grown enough

a decade would make a difference

as mother's wrist blood clotted

 after strange men in dark coats left with father

this young daughter was lifted into grace

to dance into mountains of tulle

spinning  entangled suffocation

 gasping stench of some delusional romance

that oppressed the silenced 

and entertained the 'haver'

dripping skins of dead mammals

swooning before  broken stoned idols of empty youth

trotting about on stage

furiously painted gold lame'

over coats of broken hearts

and abandoned lives

 

 

 

 

sit me here

quietly

so that i can look deeply

into the window of me

wide-open

re-membering grace

slowly

thawing to feel

tender reverence for this breath

rinsing all bitterness

open

to finally be able

to feel the touch of God

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blood dance

blood dance

everything must be broken

covering myself in the rawness of me exposed 

blood runs spreading messily over the terrain of tribal codes

sexual incest and knotted sheets

covering silenced brothers and sisters

suffocating still .  ness . now

 

panicked fidget 

loosens patterns the pressurized cooker  ever creates

over and over

“oh, you are just like grandma”

and shivering back to slithering around

belly blood recreating more generations

of messy

 

im a white gyrl

married 

not childless

no ‘queer’ here

until it makes me so sick to my stomach that  blood pours out of  ass and mouth 

 peering side glances don't make it go away

 

dis-ease

 

free me into the pasture

of my own version of wild compassion

that possesses and sees and feels all at once

and throws me off tracks

into some raveen

of hellish consequences

that reteach surviving

this millionth time

to dance among the self perpetuated demons

pulling at my dancing bleeding feet

from beneath my bed of lusted after

 

what

 

toppled down to make mad love with the lust that lay barren of forgotten touch

 

laying here still

sky folded into each times wrinkle

clouds pillow

fingers and toes that wriggle

with songs unstuck

 

 

awakening over and over

 

 

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mother guide

sometimes and often...a student will arrive who is dying of Spirit

and for days and months 

the Mother guide of loving kindness channels the breath of Great Spirit

into this fragile being

so as to keep it buoyant

upon its own sea of breath.

slowly the life returns

and livingness 

is again created of the light and darkness.

 

many times and often,

in order for the darkness to be understood and integrated

it is thrown onto Mother guide

so that she becomes the canvas to be projected upon.

This is the greatest gift of the archetype Mother guide...

to be steady

holding the canvas upon which great destructive fire

is shielded...

 

As Mother guide continues to rest in loving kindness

oft times burned. criticized and hated

clarity may arrive into the process of projection.

for indeed the criticism, disdain and loathing is that of the small bird

afraid to fly with her great wings.

 

as Mother guide stays

children scatter

return

reject

return

to deeply love as defiance of the breathless bird.

 

Mother guide is one who is graced

with the singed edges of many burns

glowing in the real world

as dissolving illusion.

It must be

as it is. 

 

 

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the daughters of america

my daughters are the daughters of america

they are bi-racial

they glow with the intelligence of all that is right with this country

diverse, open,  magnificent

how did we get so far away ?

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victim werx

victim works 

awwww poor me...

the familiar ringing in my stomach

you on top

til the whine

then you go do whomever you want

confident you wont be caught

knowing

i rest

belly down

face in shame

waiting to be saved

by some distracted beast

ilcontent

wrapped in the trauma of cultural denial

another set back for government funds

yet another crumbles

the unthreatened glass ceiling  hovers

not a crack in the bullet proof plastic

 

we have mounted our shame now

today we will last forever

together

mother kind and our children

never dragged behind another truck

we rise

our vitality gleaned from the diversity of living tendrils

that wrap intelligently around the ankles of the warped

no good win goes unpunished

we do not win

we BE

 

 

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seriousy white

seriously

how could any white woman have merit

with comfort as  religioun

denial as bible

from german decent

immigrants running from blood filled concentration camps

punishing repression of creative expression

our suffocations as weekly practices of this terrified father

scottish too, with starvation nipping at the heels of grandpa

married to the grande silencing of a puritanical operatic protegy, his spouse, lest anyone recognize an immigrant as unsilenced

spies and secrets his coffin

bleeding horrors that settle deeply within the womb of us

 

our children born to be guided and watched

our reflections staring at us wildly running ...

away.

 

i am not safe  being white

i am not free in my comfort

i am not saved by my denial

my daughters know more than me

they came screaming forth naturally

bravely borne to every discomfort promised

 deeply held within my adoring gaze

knowingly  blended into a racial fabric

 bonded woman blood

pouring rivers of unceasing humanity forth

 

 children  guide and watch

 reflections stare back  wildly running ...

away.

 

we suffer mutually in order to preserve

small strands of shared sanctity 

scavedged among the found

in some lost mystery of color created by the light that defines us

here in the darklness

lay

what is familiar yet feared

white upon white 

as light

 

one child

one guide

one stare

 

 

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coming home to truth

there

held in shadows'

 mirky divested freeze

 longing awaits

seeded strength

wish to remain

present here

gazing deeply

to appear 

loveable and loved.

we are song

longing to be held

within the nest of each heart.

let go of ground

become the sound

of light singing 

 truth as home.

we are the same yet unique.

peel your Self free

be sung

the song

the singing

the coming home to truth.

 

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qUest wiRx

founded upon the brechtian principal that artists are the ultimate teachers for humanity            qUest wiRx offers a variety of creation languages emerging from conversations in deep examinations gleaned during many a 'dark night of the soul'.

as is apparent of this today, each ones self-made heaven and hell are present...                      heaven defined as ever-available gifts of unmanipulated natural realms of ultimate reality...                            hell being defined as entrapment in ones patterns of madness...                                 how to free the self?

the process of liberation is an ongoing unique wave of livingness;                                                        the details of this.....living....is what is found on canvases, in bodies, on faces, in the painted, lined around the edges of the obvious and unseen.                                                                                   led by sensing, perhaps this is mostly about feeling in order to touch understanding.     all is ...

from such fascinations, qW artists, as co-creators, who have come to the other side  of some darkness, hold up a light from which others may be guided into grace.

join us

 

 

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the caretakers' daughter

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the caretakers' daughter

sometimes

it is obvious

seeing the world through the lense of Self

no matter where, who, when,

there one is

staring out into the stillness of the void

the sinks like the drownings 

of the montopeni quarry

infinitely insatiable

swallowing generation after generation 

of once human children.

the caretakers' daughter

has four siblings

from emaciated parents

holding home life in a musty cellar at the school

someday

the unobvious

will bare a miracle

who walks the rim of the quarry

and waves 'tutaonana'

into liberation from the void

that has swallowed too many.

 

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guiding....just show up!

dear beginner....

you are present because you recognize the sacred nature of these practices

 practice is  holding space for the greater good.                                                                                  that means for me...that all beings are of equal worth, and their lives have value.

perhaps this is a moment for a cooperative reaching into a deeper understanding for how to hold space for a bigger vessel to contain this life..... reverent work and practice of generosity and kindness.

i want to always be prepared to listen and learn from all that is....

as a guide, responsible for the wellbeing of all who have come to the circle with various expectations and agreements, is to maintain those agreements.  

one of the strongest threads of holding an integrated vessel for everyone to relax,  is presence.                                                                                                                                                 this solid agreement is the first bow, to hold our selves and others kindly in our hearts, with all of our breath, thoughts, words and actions.

when someone is not present, the agreement tears and everyone suffers the jarring of the vessel.                                                                                                                                                           if it is i who jars the vessel...                                                                                                                   some observations made;                                                                                                                         there is not clarity on my  part                                                                                                                 have  enough questions  been asked                                                                                             what is my  hesitation... lack of trust, a tendency to make too many promises,  needing to test the comfort and trust implied ...                                                                                                                                   what do i want?                                                                                                                      if part of the response is about empowerment, that means change is implied.... doing things differently and it entails bowing into new agreements and systems with strangers and the Divine.                               

all questions, of course, are really about our relationships with ourselves.                                      all experience and its power and potential is about you...   

 everyone will have their moments of fear and wanting to not be present.                                       that is when the magic of solid presence heals.                                                                                     we never know what kind of miracles our mere presence has on all living beings.                  this is the core lesson and practice of a reverent life.                                                                         this is how Grace arrives, by bowing.      

  

this is the sacred path.

Just Show Up!

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Touch as guidance

Recent comments in the air from a senior yoga teacher                                                                           here and there about not giving assists to students.  

Some words  expressed around not being sure of the students condition

wondering...

why doesnt a senior teacher embody such knowing of experiential guidance                                      one who has been teaching and sharing body information                                                                        for decades, with so many moments of experience                                                                             instilled in  the professional Self as a guide                                                                                                 feel trusting  enough of that experienced Self                                                                                               to fully take up the Divine task of guidance into Grace.

If a student is wanting to be guided out of misalignment, discomfort or pain                                        mere language may only be able to elicit directions from the established cortical files of habit..          re-using habitual neuro-pathways that are most dominant in the students daily use.

The profound re-patterning that can be supported by an embodied guide's touch is beyond language.

As is written in the Master texts of Yoga, experience is the only Truth.

Experience happens through the intelligence of the whole body as a sensing organism in space; connected to the Ground Sky and environment.

Touch affects  so many aspects of relational presence and being

To take up the role of Teacher                                                                                                                         is to fully know ones Self                                                                                                                            ones anatomy                                                                                                                                              physical  emotional  mental  energetic and karmic Self                                                                        during ones tenure as a breathing being                                                                                                    no?

To bring the feared into ones work                                                                                                                  is not a reverent state of being                                                                                                                      as in fearing the student's situation  response  affect                                                                           Taking this to the edge of possible content                                                                                           isolation is a killer                                                                                                                                           this was proven during experiments with orphaned children of war during the 40s                                the untouched die                                                                                                                                             it is so of all beings 

 

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