I could fade away but I hold on tight and hang in there on guard all night. Out of place without trace - a feather of bird trapped in a world - Trip to the End. I want to land.
I could fade away but I hold on tight and hang in there on guard all night. Out of place without trace - a feather of bird trapped in a world - Trip to the End. I want to land.
My inward journey started when I was a little girl. I had many brilliantly coloured dreams all my life, most of them I wrote down. My dream-diary was left in Canada, one of the few objects I miss a lot. In my dream I was standing in the underground station waiting for the subway. As it approached, the earsplitting noise was like a male choir unsettlingly resonating in my body. My stomack was trembling as if I had goosebumps inside. As I stayed there overwhelmed by the crushing and elevating experience, all at once I heard this word:"BENARES" very loudly in a basso profundo voice and I saw a mass of people bathing in a river as if the delve of the railway line had been filled up with water. I woke up feeling shocked but this shock was like a beatific sobbing. I was very young, I didn't even know that Benares is a city in India. I wrote down the name 'Benares' so I would remember it later since I didn't know what it meant. I can still hear the voice of the choir shaking me to the bones. I had a similarly poignant dream when I was a teen about taking a boat-trip to North America. As I said goodbye to my parents, I could see them sinking slowly under the boat. I arrived late at night to cross the breathtaking sight of illuminated skyscrapers greeting me like ancient gods - the tragic beauty of strangeness - exactly the same view when I first arrived to Toronto decades later. I woke up, my face was soaking wet of the streams of tears running from my eyes. Unveiling-revealing dream-journeys. Let's celebrate our pathetically heroic life!
S OULLOVE is the Red Balloon, the O ne I freed to reach the sky. U nderneath the starry tears L uring mother-lullaby. B ehold the beauty, smell the sweet, R ace the moon and swim the wind! O ceans, raise my tiny seed! T ree of Love for ALL to ring, H eal my silent heart to sing! E ternal bloom of Thanksgiving R enew the life of scarry Brig!
Like butterfly-tattoos symbolize the souls of the deceased on the face of Dulong women Our sacred soul - flying in the sky and rooted in the soil - is the seed of essence within Like salmon must swim thousands of miles to return to the stream of their birthplace Our earthly presence is a reckless riverdance to reach the spirit of spring barefoot and barehearted
My deep sorrow was quick always to feed my soul watered with tears I grew the wings of love to fly and find a land to live and die O may I weep a healing well for all the brave who try and dare
LOVE only love beyond and above Come heal my soul making it whole Lend me a nest in peace where I rest ................LIGHT only light ................Lightening-white ................like Moon holy kite ................Mightily bright ................beauty of God ................Caress my heart ........................ LIFE only life ........................ Hand without knife ........................ wind without storm ........................ wound without sore ........................ Snow-angel: sole ........................ longing to soar LOVE gentle dove beyond and above fly very high up to the sky don't ever die fly only FLY
Earth Creatures cursed at birth & spat on a dump-hill of bloody Nil where in the Space of sheer madness Eagles of Death reveal the corpse of a long-lost Truth Words are fucking futile
look at your dummy faces in mocking shards of haunted mirror brain-dead vampires stuffed with blood-sucking dentures fen-fire behind the drape of dark grim lull amidst grisly terror babydreams, alas, abruptly killed at the funfair of stenchy past and spoiled presence earsplitting noise of bane knocks on unguarded doors in your disneyland panopticon shall the Brave rise again? hold your breath for the last roar
Moon-love. Lone loon, rest in my nest tonight. Don't weep! Why cry? Time will rewind the tie.
In darkness the slightest light seems like herald of God