The Firey Speck

The Firey Speck

In a moment where the wind blew
For a brief grievance, my coat tail knew
The fiery dust which embraced my eye
Came to proclaim a message of a thunderous lullaby
To be awake is to steady see
The anguish and anger always sent for me
A song for the hornet and wide winged bat
Inside of my shattered heart, my reaction is a frivolous stat

When the speck hit my eye
I should have washed it out with lye
The burn would have paralyzed my will to see
The dream that this would set us free
But now I’m waking up to be hurt
All of my feelings are stuck in the dirt

For some wish to learn at the university – receiving methods and assignments in strenuous diversity
Others are not for the will to learn from the school book
They rather get it word of mouth from the bell and informed hook
I suppose it matters not where education arrives
For as long as the trail of questions convince our begging lives

When the speck hit my eye
I should have washed it out with lye
The burn would have paralyzed my will to see
The dream that this would set us free
But now I’m waking up to be hurt
All of my feelings are stuck in the dirt

{bridge}
A refrain of speckled puzzles convinced me to see
A dark illumination that’s paralyzed me
If not for the will to sing this song
I’d refuse to believe the dance to belong
The color of a miss-step is the shade of a fading white
No one has to wrestle in the error of the unseen night

A frivolous stat! A frivolous stat! A hornet without honey and wide winged bat! A wide-winged bat!
For seeing without eyes are like bees without honey
A purpose to be drawn without the necessity of money
The speck in my eye became an enlarged reflector
This inspired a pathway to become the most desired nectar

When the speck hit my eye
I should have washed it out with lye
The burn would have paralyzed my will to see
The dream that this would set us free
But now I’m waking up to be hurt
All of my feelings are stuck in the dirt

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A Relic In The Ocean

A Relic In The Ocean

A life can be tossed or rolled down the hill
When it reaches the concrete ground – is there life still?
After being pressed and torn up without a single care
After all of that destruction, is this even fair?
By the time it’s all said and done – nobody has won
Love and hate is already inside of the gun
No one seems willing to pull the trigger
Fear starts to grow stronger and BIGGER
The fetus position is invited for a safer swallow
There they began minimizing themselves in a paper like hollow
When troubles aim to roll us up like a fat blunt
Are we still backing up our integrity from the front?
Historians have written down this story for you to read
It’s up to you to make life a good deed
Or this can simply be another relic in the ocean
A story hardly capable of stirring motion.

Levitating of LOVE

Levitating of LOVE

She started polishing my shoe but then told me that we weren’t going anywhere…YET

By the time she was finished – I had a pulsating shine.

I was ready to walk down the halls with my boot, you see?

I was ready to read.

The book was very exciting and I could tell line by line – how enthralled I was beginning to feel.

I started with the preface. It was a proper introduction as it briefed me on what I was about to witness.

I became even more earnest when realizing how inviting the chapters were.

I then began to turn the pages.

The crisp sound made me even more anxious to reach the climax.

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Keep Reading…

I’m sure I won’t be putting this book down anytime soon.

We both started to levitate and by the end of the book – the closing chapter read as follows:

In love, we can levitate
Not just by the ascension of the sky
But also falling down with hope
That we may land on the grass but if not
Our splattering bodies can transform what is yet to be known
Our tissues, blood, nerves, and bones are evidence of
What we can’t see is that which keeps us alive
ACTUALLY
Maybe it’s better – if we lay together without falling
For a rest, we will remember when our dreams invite us to sleep
Just thinking of the destinations we can explore and how much fun we’ll have
Yet – Those places don’t compare to the journey found with you
Holding your hand is magic plush
I can think of nothing better than to be with you
Half of what I am must be spent with you
The other half of me is mining how I should repay you for blessing me
I’m never breathing this moment because I have so much more to give
It’s true – a token like this is rare and newly found
I’m giving it to you and in return, we can be as wealthy as ascending atoms

DEDICATED: To all of the book(s), I’ve had the pleasure to read. Thank you for allowing me to levitate in love. ❤ 

 

Ultraviolet Bloom (Sensory Illumination)

Ultraviolet Bloom (Sensory Illumination)

It is with pleasure and joy I announce my new music video for a song I composed late last year – Ultraviolet-Bloom which is also known as Sensory Illumination! The music and the music video was done by Jeremy Garner.

In light of the vast amount of creative work me and Jeremy have created over the years, we decided it would be appropriate to have a central place where you can find our various contributions of the years! We call it Planit Jade!

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It’s way overdue for us to have a central place in the world to see what we’ve done together. Some of our first creative pieces were done as early as 2014. Usually – I am writing along with the power of inspiration and I’ll share it with Jeremy and he has a unique ability to bring those words to life. Ultraviolet Bloom is another one of those occasions where it came to fullness. I can’t thank Jeremy enough for his willingness and excitement to help bring these visions to life. It always starts as something small than before you know it – It’s fully formed.

Sensory Illumination is one of those magical journey’s that takes you through intricate halls in my mind. The music takes you away from the heart to mind. Womb and Bloom! You can listen to this song in full here.

For never was my reason to understand
That would only mean I would have to learn
My spirit wished to only kiss the space in between giving and taking
My Flesh feels the emotion of touch and while knowledge comes closer to me
Bumps begins to race up and down my skin

Sensory Illumination
Ultraviolet bloom
Hearts are taking
Ultraviolet Womb

Where Was I?
Lost in the green meadows
A sanctuary found in the grass
My spirit half past awake and dead
Are we to begin where our hearts have fluttered?

Sensory Illumination
Ultraviolet Womb
Heart is taken
Ultraviolet Bloom

Born into a world that I never knew
Feelings overtaking me – gaining strength in places unbeknown to me
Poltergeist intentions seeking to overthrow this sinking place
A ghost of desire visiting me in cracked halls
Wishing she was found but in belly, we have began

Sensory Illumination
Ultraviolet Bloom
Mind is gone
Ultraviolet Womb

In my travels from dark to light
All are opened up to me – to find
To scatter – to miss place and to redeem
AM I feeling this light or is darkness finding me home?
Gone where all questions go in search for destiny
Trapped like light inside a pyramid A bloom of ultraviolet sensory illumination
Heart is taken
Mind is gone
Ultraviolet Womb

Dreaming Of A World With More Zeros

Dreaming Of A World With More Zeros

I’m dreaming of a world with more zeros. A future filled with information which doesn’t end but repeats. A loop of daily routine found in a prism of ideas, to yield more discovery. How grand it would be, for our future to endlessly reach more experiences of love.

In a time where research is easily accessible – do you ever stop to think – we have enough information already? There’s so much hidden and revealed, there can’t be anything else left for us to know, right? Nah!

There’s plenty of wisdom left to uncover. The love of wisdom is what philosophy is at the center to root. The encouragement that comes from knowledge is awe-inspiring. The potential of knowledge made to good use revives and stimulates your nerves. When information is accessed properly – it aligns your memories to your eventual dreams.

Dreaming is to uncover those random thoughts that slipped through mundanity. *Let’s be Real: Life can be incredibly stagnant and predictable.* In spite of this, A picture that you briefly looked at it – can come back as a mansion of chandeliers. These can all be set to challenge and remind you of an essence meant to be explored when you wake up.

For a moment – picture every seed as a zero. When you plant zeros in the ground – you are essentially planting nothing. That’s what it seems. A small figure that expands into something Grand. All of the proper conditions must be in sync for it to yield a worthy result. Now think of it:

Dreaming of a world with more seeds.

Wouldn’t this be Grand? Where would we plant all of these seeds? They can’t all go into the ground – that would be limiting every other pocket waiting to be filled. Plant seeds in the clouds, souls, Children, etc. You’ll never have a shortage of places to plant seeds.

The more you plant those seeds – your zeros will stand among the many.

My dream is now living life with more seeds. More opportunities that await a future that’s entwined with past and present. It’s not that hard to see. A life that encourages us to plant seeds. To intend for a result which performs positivity.

ThEnDance (Sort of Dead)

ThEnDance (Sort of Dead)

”The dance at the end
Our memories and genetics – will they transcend?
What’s left of the impact we leave behind?
The matrix of life – does it fully unwind?
How are we then able to know?
When death reveals its face – do we all glow?
The insatiable hope that our actions aren’t in vain
That we’ll find a storage facility in some Human brain
Our lives are all but smoke cast into the air
Wishing to be smelled by the nose of those that dare
A compatible willingness to be remembered by the spices of our scent
Various pictures of our taste set aside as a tent in one’s mind
We all long to be remembered with a nostalgic bind
Experiences, memories, and our written history are the makeup of our lives
The dance floor is where we release – our collective archives”

Getting There

Getting There

FOLLOW ME AS I CAPTURE THE ESSENCE OF THE WIND
WE MAY BEGIN TO REVEAL THE SEEDS OF MY SIN
CRYSTAL STARLIGHT HOVERING OVER YOUR HAIR
A WANDERING CALL BECKONS YOU TO SIT OVER THERE

AND NOW HERE YOU ARE NERVOUS WITH DESIRE
WISHING FOR PURPOSE TO STING YOU WITH A HOLY FIRE
THEY CAN’T SEEM TO SEE THROUGH YOUR OPEN WINDOW
THOUGH YOUR HEART BEATS WITH A CRIPPLING CRESCENDO

LOST IN AN UNKNOWN LAIR – WHERE GOVERNING BEATS REPEAT
SOUNDS GLISTEN PROVIDING RHYTHMIC MEDICINE TO YOUR FEET
A MAP OF PROMISE BEGINS TO ARISE FROM THE SMOKE
A CAT APPEARS TO REMIND YOU OF FATES JOKE

HOW DID YOU EVER FIND THIS ARENA OF CIRCUMSTANCE
WHEN DID YOU EVER FORGET THE CODE OF TRANCE
NOW YOU CAN’T HELP BUT TRIP ON A SLIPPERY BASE
THEY CAN’T UNSEE YOUR BONAFIDE FACE

THE TOKENS HAVE ALL FELL OVER INSIDE A SHALLOW CREEK
AS OUR POCKETS WERE FULL – WE COULD HARDLY SPEAK
BLESSED ARE THE DAGGERING MOTIONS FROM THE SEA
FOR WOE WAS THEE, NO LONGER ME – FOR NOW WE HAVE THE KEY

Punitive Punch

Punitive Punch

They came with a punitive punch. A punch meant to sentence me to prison. They wanted me to pay for all my alleged crimes.

There I went – flying with punishment for crimes I did not commit. Something as small as an ant turned into a monster from The Transformers series.

What’s the point of making something so minuscule a major quandary? The implication of guilt then breeds a fierce judgment which disqualifies my actual existence to think freely.

Applauding progress nowadays is like sticking a gun up to someone after they sincerely apologize. I want to change that. Progress deserves a laudable response when met with demonstrative commitment.

Instead, I’m given a whip to my brain – fighting over the grains of sand while building skyscrapers with what remains.

This was a knockout to the mind and a strangle to my neck. I was sent without warning and while believing I was strong, I then came across a nail polish bottle.

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This was a test of my strength and I couldn’t pass it as well as I thought. The twists and turns only left my hands bruised – this was a punch meaning to wrongfully arrest me with brutal enforcement. 

This was meant to make a mockery of my weakness and while we all deal with it at some point. I’ve already been locked in a padded cell. I’m crying out for Justice and Mercy, but will I ever be heard? The guards laugh at me as they know this familiar story.

So, what’s left to say when you’ve been punched? You can hit back but a punch ain’t a pinch. This punch was a knockdown to my rebuttal. A rebuke to my progress – a punitive punch which knocked me to the ground.

As I lay down to lick my wounds, I’m reminded that a punch doesn’t mean it’s the end of me. A punch is much like a reminder that it was all a joke. *Like come on, don’t take it that seriously* I sure as hell ain’t Laughing but I’m not crying either. A striking blow yes, but it opened a window to my healing.

Now, I can contemplate my next move! I’ll offer a punch back this time – with a spike. Then we can get this party started for real! No more tears or fears – Justice has finally served us pardoned.

When Flowers Yawn

When Flowers Yawn

As flowers dream to glistening stars above

They entrance me deeply

The foggy morning appears to me

The empathy of softness

The coy awakening where flower’s stare

Eye see joy there – inside it

The stardust gyrating around your hair

Are peddles you’ll repel by reflecting

Inside through outside – our kinship
are sleepy dreams

The cool summer that you once knew

You’ll see in me entirely

When flowers awaken – the dozy spell will signal

Our arms to stretch

As flowers stretch from the inside – we are transfixed by their yawn

“Comb Your Pennies”

“Comb Your Pennies”

As they woke up early in the morning ready for the day at hand: They suddenly heard a voice from the distance – which grew stronger as it came close to their ears.

“Make sure to comb your pennies as you brush your dollars.”

Not much was known about them but they did gain a little sunlight whenever the sun was gracious enough to shine on them. They did not have much but enough strength to keep what could be turned into something bigger. Anytime they walked the corners of the earth – they found pieces of cloth that they connected into a bigger quilt. It didn’t matter where they were, as long as they could keep some space in their pockets. They held onto what little they had, in hope that it would turn into a dollar.

Days went by and eventually, their pennies turned into many dollars. Their hair wasn’t as wild as before. They had enough to show up to the party with a laid back do and enough details to show off how much they had saved. It didn’t take long for them to realize what this meant. Now they could brush their dollars into the deep areas of their head. The comb and brush was a reminder to take what little they had to manage what was in their control.

I heard this in a dream and I find this sentiment very important.

“Comb your pennies and brush your dollars”

I’ve always been one to recycle. A broken necklace? A wrist bracelet. A broken wrist bracelet? A chain to dangle on my trousers. Anything that breaks – will become something else before it goes in the trash can. I do this as a reminder that everything transforms. The purpose doesn’t have to be lost.

Ain’t it funny how when Black Friday comes along we feel justified in buying things for a cheaper price? If you really do the math you’ll open yourself to the scam that is really Black Friday Weekend. Most sales are 20% – 30% off the original price, which isn’t that much of a discount. It’s also convenient that this comes a month before Christmas. THIS IS NOT AN ACCIDENT.

It’s all tied to spending as most as possible for those little charms that make life easier. This also means your hair can get a little more raggedy in the process. By the time Black Friday and Christmas is over your hair will be all over the place. My suggestion to avoid crazy hair – become extremely hypothetical in situations where money is involved. I start becoming a detective searching the ins and outs of the situation.

This metaphor of pennies being combed is like dumping all of your coins out of your storage container. The moment they begin to fall out, they tend to scatter. That’s when you gotta comb them towards you. At times you get lucky and find higher currencies which is always a bonus but even if you don’t brush off those dollars. When there ain’t enough to make a quilt, you best believe you have enough fabric to make an ACCENT. A detail or two that will stand out flamboyantly. Any eye for detail can catch it.

So next time you find yourself with a few spare pieces around – consider combing all that is scattered. Once your done brushing everything together – you’ll be ready to flow with the finest of accents.