Spirit Animals #10: Snake
Snake
Serpent eyes sucking life from assumed consistency,
healing through pain and dissolved fallacy,
threads of primal nature raised up in kundalini,
fangs slashing into flesh pinpoint precisely,
potion pulsing through stiff veins , a test of strength,
a spiral implodes before reforming reincarnate
prey must shed the skin of stable lifeblood,
heart now beats with the current of the flood,
from bloom to soil to seed to another bud.
Spirit Animals #9: Rabbit
Rabbit
zigzagging in subtle gusts through meadows at midnight,
The wide moon framed as a haunting white backlight
illuminates perilous nightmare suspicions
fear catalyzes an incessant safeguard position,
Rabbit ears reconnoitering excitably,
foraging sly for a hiding family,
Behind a scout’s shield it is safe to scurry,
In timely bursts and flickering flurries,
frailty survives by the wisdom of worry.
Spirit Animal #8: Dolphin
Dolphin
gliding along through the dolphin’s map/path of echoes,
layers of feedback pointing like a trail of arrows,
keen to the manifold depths of clairaudience,
from surface waves crashing to deep sea ambience,
dance of the astral backbeats of music,
breathing the rhythm of aqueous acoustics,
prophets of the secret atlantis sun,
attuned to the threading of psychic coils spun,
like a helix of invisible tones of vibration.
Spirit Animals #7: Peacock
Peacock
extravagant presence pouring out from a watchful base,
cognizant penetration into prism depths to trace,
divine multivision of every soft seen intricacy,
one hundred eyes analyzing a pinpoint of quality,
true beauty will parade in every eye of the beholder,
and visions overlooked shall be uncovered,
a colorful crest of plumage to disarm reservations,
if you shine gold under the gaze of the eye of the sun,
peacock will kindle the undying sprectrum of creation.
Peaceful Easy Feelings
proposition 19 the remedy the remedy peace justice and unity for you and me show them this canna-culture is much more than a seed it is the sage key legalize the remedy the remedy the mystic green weed to keep you happy healthy and free-thinking mind body and spirit let them breathe as one entity like a pink floyd pyramid of prismatic energy the remedy the remedy i’ve got peaceful easy feelings and I know that they won’t let me down i’ve got the remedy the remedy ecstatic endorphin release in excess fractalized good vibes beamed through my third eye from infinity the remedy the remedy the wise green sage heals so much sickness reject that reefer madness snakespeak nonsense herbs are for healing rastamen been telling us for centuries legalize it the remedy the remedy for lethal black growths that have choked off so many millions now victory is spelled t h c the remedy the remedy for knots in the back manifested from chronic stress treat yourself to a breath of green relief the remedy the remedy caresses you into deep satisfying sleep let you be lighter than air float high like a haze toward serenity the remedy the remedy for stifled creativity let artistry bloom from the decay of mediocrity let freedom ring let freedom ring free your minds free your bodies and legalize the mystic green weed remedy.
Thanks to Robyn Kralik!
Thanks to Robyn for my really awesome starfish header image! http://www.robynkralik.com
Another Love Poem: Boundless Bloom
I really believe writers will always need to write love poems. ❤ Robyn
Boundless Bloom
She is love, she is love over and over. She is a beautiful anomaly expressed ten thousand fold ten thousand ways in ten thousand things and two years is only a part of her unveiling; she will magnetize the world with love and sail over the infinite landscape of every beautiful thing. She is an avant-garde adventurer chiseling through cement toward the seed of the soul and when she reaches it she will find herself mirrored back at herself, mirrored back our hearts before we have hearts in our chest, mirrored back a ray of timeless love as godhead, mirrored back a billion points of worldview deciphered by a well-trained third eye spirit blooming from spirit all around her, regenerative. my woman is a utopian dream and universal principle, beauty must organize itself around her, around her a pale city glows as a passionate macrocosm, around her bleakness becomes utterly incompatible. She is the softness of my satin. skin and the pounding of my pulse they are engraved so deep in me, engraved so deep this indention of a life into a life, engraved so deep that they are not truly themselves without both halves. She is the capstone component on an altar of bliss the essence of a moonlit kiss the intimizing cooling of november mist, the intimizing cooling of particles brought fatefully together into something like a song booming out solid and strong fated to vibrate as one. My lover is a grandiose love conspiracy revealed solely soulfully to those who truly see her, you can watch her sway in so many flawless ways always animated, she basks as two palm trees drifting along through quickly passing summer days, so many flawless ways you can trace her somewhere within the novelty of shamelessly used cliches, so many flawless ways you can find her guiding you like a sixth sense to the exit of a massive maze, you can still yourself and feel her following you into calm caressing cool or you can follow her flame steps leading you through a hot lush dripping pool, the best parts of both. She is a strange familiarity a childlike sense of deja vu a sagelike intuition wise and true, a strange familiarity that I never knew until the first second I saw her look me at me with those deep, detonating eyes, the love of my life, I had hoped she existed for all my life, an edgeless sense of bliss that will never never never die. Love multiplied over and over and over more boundless than the sky, she is.
The Painter & The Poet
Love is truly amazing. It allows us to endure through tremendous hardships and find destiny amidst vast chaos.
The Painter & The Poet
He shines in everything she paints.
His essence saturates each stroke
swabbed by her meticulous touch
onto canvases of splendor.
He shines in everything she paints.
His motives broad curves of body
bold and pronounced as they display
resolution in strong contour lines.
He shines in everything she paints.
His repertoire of professions
feel as deep to her as textures
her brush could hope to recreate.
He shines in everything she paints.
He brings cultured composition
conjoins shapes once incongruent
but now organic masterpiece.
He shines in everything she paints.
His piety in her pigment
propels color across her world
igniting in rapturous hues.
He shines in everything she paints.
His poise pacifies impasses
juxtaposing colors together
in simultaneous contrast.
He shines in everything she paints.
His touch calms all disaccord
constitutes all values of light and
fills the void of negative space.
He shines in everything she paints.
He induces innovation
invokes lust like Mona Lisa
unorthodox as Last Supper.
He shines in everything she paints.
His eyes capture what they covet
content to share that second pure
as an impressionist piece.
[original poem splits here into an adjacent column]
Her voice in every word he writes.
Her allure resounds boundlessly
breathing warmth into all his words
strengthens each piece he composes.
Her voice in every word he writes.
Her fantastic free-verse figure
affects the senses sensuous
as the smooth sound of assonance.
Her voice in every word he writes.
Her fine-tipped passion possesses
the pen as it scribes the semblance
of cherry tree’s outspread branches.
Her voice in every word he writes.
She’s pen to paper in his arms
aligns disjointed reverie
gives form to sundry fantasies.
Her voice in every word he writes.
She’s the delectable descriptions
discerned by acute immersion
yet she transcends vocabulary.
Her voice in every word he writes.
Her kiss brings bliss to his parched mouth
edits tangents tactfully down
and expels writer’s block away.
Her voice in every word he writes.
Her proximity provoking
aspiration tones like his own
dialect of dual prodigies.
Her voice in every word he writes.
She’s loved like Coleridge wrote so well
“Thro’ all my being, through my pulse beat
I bless the lot that made me love you”.
Her voice in every word he writes.
She stimulates inspiration
independent of explanation
like liberation everlasting.
Spirit Animals #6: Tiger
Thanks to all for your continued support! Chase your trophys this week.
Tiger
camouflaged in undergrowth lying silent and still
anticipating his trophy, pulse beat predator’s thrill
hairs raised like menacing needles
the love of the chase is a primal fuel
launching skyward and pouncing down so deadly
another affirmation of wildcat vitality
paw the prize around in proud pale-painted claws
every capture strengthens the snarl of his song
decisiveness is delicious confronted head on
Amor de Congeria
Amor de Congeria
The sensation of loving a woman is the most sudden surge of concentrated energy the psychological equivalent of a junkie’s first incalculable ecstasy shooting aimlessly out of the barrel of a shotgun as a slug propelling perpetually forward but never reaching its target because that would be the end of its exigency. To have passion is to abdicate everything you had been working toward instantly turns to dust to have passion for someone else is to involuntarily relinquish power and control passion is chosen over food shelter friendship rationality and all other forms of sustenance to have passion is to set ablaze everything you’ve ever constructed and start over again with her as the sun. Every other matter in the macrocosm is pushed aside to provide precise focus on her vitality an all-encompassing specification within which is contained every minute and trivial detail about her flowing full hips set against the backdrop of a tight refined body the color of caramel crimson luscious lips accented by piercing omnipotent ruby-stained eyes that burn when they engage your own. Overwhelmed with insatiable raw unmitigated excitement you become a fiend ceaselessly obsessed with molding yourself into the man she would chisel out of stone and your reality spirals into a conspiring multiplicity of her reverberations from every mote of matter in the universe and the more she carves you away the less and less of you remains and it all becomes her. Feeling her nails slicing downward over your shoulders has become an agonizing privilege and you engage all enemies of your love with the ferocity of a ravenous wildcat with the aggression of a rapacious shark aroused by the sight and the smell of a circle of red. Impulse replaces planning and appetite replaces thought and instinct replaces sense and she governs all that you are, and you hope like hell that she doesn’t need rhythm in her life because the whole song’s one sound in your mind one rude cacophony there is a jumble of noise that you can place no more disparity or order on but it’s beautiful to you a violent tour de force because she created it she orchestrates it she controls it. You become chaos. You become her chaos.
Spirit Animals #5: Bear
Please send your hopes toward ending the oil spill in the gulf. In some native cultures, the bear is a vessel on which one can project their pain, hurt, or whatever other negative obstacle they hold inside them. The bear is able to handle that weight for them and essentially recycle it. Thanks for reading.
Bear
a bristled brown mountain timeless dust
a grizzly bear directing the rivers rush
healing wounded creatures and trees
heavy and weighted against frost fragility
snarling mountains bellow out a winter wind
your mouth an assertive abyss for afflictions
we examine each other with rude intrigue
our drumbeat pulse unites us, the warrior creed
I know there are crimson claws within me
Death of a Sage
A person is arrested for violating marijuana laws every 38 seconds. While alcohol and tobacco kill over half a million people annually, marijuana has been shown to be a non-lethal substance with many medical benefits. Why then, is our government so stubborn about legalization? Happy reading.
Death of a Sage
envy etched everywhere on the modern wall of intemperance. adam and eve want sensimilia and the fever is endless. they feed their primal need to be free, to be released from december tension. old men fear what they do not understand, and bury it deep in a valley of misconceptions. but eve ate the apple despite authority’s warning, and so will we our forbidden fruit to eat. teens experiment dealers need green and the police need a reason to exert superiority, and so begins an endless war, this battle of the senseless. Two bull headed teams who never weep and never sleep, two armies of arch enemies trying to keeps the defenders edge. the red team is a legion of desperate men in hoods protecting every red cent they can get. the sky is the limit just as long as it renders them successful men. severe cement revenge bleeds for green and they don’t feel an ounce of regret as the agent’s chest clenches at the steel bellied serpent. what have we done to sever the sympathy of these men? we misled the people about a harmless weed, a healing herb made of serenity energy. the blue team fabricated a heretical deceit and we never questioned it. instead made the d.e.a. and they lied through our communal teeth and choked out rebel yells with extreme persistence. we planted a seed to throw as many black vermen in the pen as we can manage. a cold breeze blows and I sing out the heavy melodies of don henley: desperado, why don’t you come to your senses, you’ve been out riding fences for so long now.
A Separatist State of Mind
This poem was featured yesterday on Censored Poets! This is one of the first poems that began my interest in shadow work. I will be posting another poem later today about the tragedies of the drug war (which will be the first half of another two paragraph prose poem like the ones I’ve been posting). I’d love to hear your comments. Thanks for reading!
A Separatist State Of Mind
A Separatist state of mind
he drinks in the day
drifting from place to place
without sense of time
fountain of youth with lime,
A Separatist state of mind
he rises with the moon
sunlight the demon’s tomb
lurks in shadowed shrines
chasms dawn never finds,
A Separatist state of mind
with mistress train wreck
eye him like a suspect
sour and impolite
strung out under neon lights,
A Separatist state of mind
orders usual brew
the devil wants his due
greeting is concise
plesantries won’t suffice,
A Separatist state of mind
nectar cigarette
free will tinged in the scent
strength measured in pints
ball and chain left behind,
A Separatist state of mind
burdens asphyxiate
wise men quick to make haste
cautious to confide
misery/company on hyde,
A Separatist state of mind
rebel’s guitar pick
structure is eighty-sixed
robbing convention blind
sworn against the daily grind,
A Separatist state of mind
potent like vermouth
always ask for the proof
snake’s eyes open wide
american dreamers lied,
A Separatist state of mind
moored in lonely shores
damned forever to war
route contra the tide
assailant to humankind,
A Separatist state of mind
the man is an island
risen from submersion
corrosive waves subside
indifferent to the tide,
A Separatist state of mind
fallacious glass ghost
bewitching mirage toast
gluttony in disguise
insatiable vacant eyes,
A Separatist state of mind
stoops to any device
slave destitute to vice
impending his demise
burning tequila sunrise.
Spirit Animals #4: Hawk
Hawk
hover above expanses of dying grass
eyes pinpoint prey in cutting contrast
all dynamics of the world exhale and blur
target marked and hunger can’t be deterred
willows deceit in discomfort of wait
they betray your secretive mode of escape
he will predict your resistance before it is real
and strike at the precise moment to kill
hawk’s focus like frost leaves rats frozen still
Green Soceity/Free Market
This is the second installment from the same series of poems as cookie cutter girl. I hope this one gives some creative optimism to some of my readers in these trying times. When I wrote this it came flowing out of me; I think writing was really a necessary release of the dark parts of myself. Please google great pacific garbage patch when you have a moment. Later this evening I will post the hawk poem as promised, so please please please check back today or tomorrow. Have a great Wednesday, and thank you for supporting me. Next week this site shall be properly self-promoted and will get its rightful grand opening so to speak.
Green $ociety/Free Market
nine to five soul-lessness and eleven percent unemployment and cheerios for breakfast lunch and dinner and fourteen hour days at two peon jobs to afford scraps and a b.a. degree no longer means you’re allowed to perform the work you learned to do and post-degree suicide attempts and hundred dollar per hour therapy sessions and if you can not afford them you just stay neurotic and if you can afford them the answer is always drugs and they even have a drug to buy to help you conquer your drug addiction and if I should have started smuggling blow and twelve-percent post consumer fiber coffee cups and there’s a disclaimer making a big deal about how green that is and it saves starbucks two and a half cents per unit and there’s a three million ton trash island in our ocean and it killed one million sea birds and one hundred thousand marine mammals last year and the whole world revolves around filthy fucking money.
a gift society a slave free community economy of unity all roots of the bodhi tree beauty is simplicity is independence is equality without fuck-all fatcats corporate greed nor poverty everyone a unit of indigo energy radiating the eternal we artists convert dusty brick to visiorelic vivid dynamic philosophers paid to contemplate and scientists to calculate particles accelerate adventurers brave Gran Chaco arbor maze infiltrate and investigate power isn’t quantified business isn’t done with guns and polarized and mankind’s professions are grounded in morality and profit is a personal measure of dignity havens cover every head even demons dealt their daily bread monday morning as friday night awake until three am on top shelf and firelight call in sick tomorrow its alright so strange it’s deemed wrong but what’s right feels right.
Spirit Animals #3: Turtle
I was able to go hiking yesterday in the Marin Headlands and had some great connections to the wildlife there. I saw a hawk for the second consecutive time I’ve been in that area, and he seemed to be idling near me. I also saw a bluebird that swooped down close to investigate us. I’ve researched these animals and their meanings and they really seem to have approached at precisely the appropriate moment. I plan to meditate on them and have their poems up next week for you all. Enjoy. Peace and Love.
Turtle
turtle, prodigy of protection
shell of passive introspection
hidden inside himself where time is slow
stop just to feel the currents flow
rushing waters will come to rest
your emerald head reemerges refreshed
glimpsing such peaceful eyes as yours
who never condemn and always adore
invite me into the great cerulean sea to explore
Voodoo Doctor Voyager
Sorry for the belated posting today. It was a lazy morning. This is a pantoum I’ve written about reclaiming a connection with nature and getting away from urban sprawl. It’s become even more true since I’ve written it nearly a year ago. Enjoy.
Voodoo Doctor Voyager
Salvation on the margins.
Uniformed in creature skin,
excising demon obligation
for the spirit of relaxation.
Uniformed in creature skin.
Voyage sailing toward seclusion
for the spirit of relaxation.
On stable raft of contention,
voyage sailing toward seclusion.
Forfeiting all of my possessions
on stable raft of contention,
damn them in funeral procession.
Forfeiting all of my possessions.
Uncle Sam tied as my anchor,
damn him in funeral procession
Drowned and dragging underwater,
Uncle Sam tied as my anchor.
Let him swallow another liter,
drowned and dragging underwater
for every starving depressed writer.
Let him swallow another liter.
When I land at Port Pariah
for every starving depressed writer,
lone bubble pipe dream of Nirvana.
When I land at Port Pariah
I will shout a hallelujah
to lone bubble pipe dream of Nirvana
and believe myself messiah.
I will shout a hallelujah,
punch drunk with make believe soldiers,
and believe myself messiah.
Too tired to remain fighters.
punch drunk with make believe soldiers.
Tonight I’ll make a fire
too tired to remain a fighter
with every dirty dog leash dollar.
Tonight I’ll make a fire
excising demon obligation
of every dirty dog leash dollar.
Salvation on the margins.
Spirit Animals #2: Owl
Each of these poems stemmed from research and knowledge and creative imagery meditations, and each one will have artwork to accompany it. Different types of the same animal have special significances, and interestingly enough, the first two animals I’ve posted are going to be the white buffalo and the snowy owl. I hope reading will create positive decision-making and intuition for you this week.
Owl
under ominous branches fumbling blind
stumbling for a shrouded path I could not find
until fireworks ignited at the flapping of wings
piercing intricate shapes through the veil of unknowing
feathers reflect the sacred path owl foresees
unraveling woodland labyrinth mysteries
wide awake I glide as intuition takes flight
owl lends me her vision as we flash through the night
a match is struck and conviction ignites
Cookie-Cutter Girl/Bedlam Blitz
The other major project I’m working on right now is a series of contrasting prose poems in which the first half is some kind of darkness concerning our world today and the second is an idealistic or evolved expression of how that might improve. I really like writing this way and hope you enjoy today’s post, which contrasts superficial insecurity and feminine self-confidence.
Cookie-Cutter Girl/Bedlam Blitz
twenty one year old craft project collage kindergarten illusions of queendom cut and paste on the predefined dotted lines connect the dots toward misaffection now trace the coke bottle edges of the size 0 calorie american sleeping beauty the only acceptable frame of the female creed the magazine model you’ll try & fail to be coloring books and christmas cookies planted that ugly primrose seed cookie cutter girl clothed in cutting edge cutting a wedge through flaws and inadvertently cutting herself she cannot cry for help she sold her soul to the devil wearing prada but once you have devoured her you can have another there are dozens of carbon copy clones just like her all iced in toxic ten carat frostiquè bittersweet banana repubic treat artificial sweeteners makes you sick if you devour enough of them you will surely vomit but artisan pastries are long ago extinct today everyone who’s anyone knows sameness is the new pink stamp stamping out sharp machete to the flawed side of self a mold through the dough of the soul but each luscious gingerbread girl leaves in the mix a hollow hole
the girl is a one-woman midnight riot time to kiss the settled sterility of status goodbye martha stewarts epitaph is etched across her breast a postpaternal princess wielding the friction to defy she’s stripped off the trappings of domesticated subject shed that skin which only intends to constrict guerilla youth tearing it all down in tonic uprise flushed feeling the magnum in her hand rousing palpitation of a self-determined outcry velvet on concrete from fits of convulsive violent ready to lay into dictators until bodies run dry lock eyes with her and you’ll see she’s reached her limit now she wants to cause a comedown to dampen with decline there is a ballroom blitz to support the despot overthrow shes destined to deliver a feminist deathblow she won’t keep quiet a one-woman midnight riot
From a spirit animal project I’m working on…
Buffalo
mother buffalo grazing among a plane of emerald rays
Savoring abundant bounty for ten thousand days
kind brown eyes could turn wild tigers tame
alpine white coat covering a steady stone frame
her shoulders hold up through hunger and hate
every second is sacred so respect and celebrate
raining down from mountaintop clouds. miracles unfold and populate
the transcendental herd passes across december sky
united no creature will ever really die
Welcome to the blog!
Welcome!
I am a creative writer and healing artist determined to affect positive transformation on personal and societal levels via poetry and other art. I have particular interests in shadow work and poetry as creative imagery. I am a radical person. I am a punk from San Francisco. Both these facts influence my writing significantly. I hope my artistic endeavors empower you all with a sense of well-being and positive change. I will be posting a new poem every Wednesday, so please check back each week or subscribe if you like my work. I encourage all of your feedback, critiques, collaborations, readings, ramblings, or requests for (free!) poems via this WordPress https://alexregenerate.wordpress.com or email alexanderwink810@hotmail.com.
Peace and Love,
Alex Regenerate
Alex Regenerate: Revolutionary Poetry & Societal Shadow Work 