The night-crow
Gently clasps
The moon-pearl
In her black beak.
Her endless-long
Feathers flash
With the light
Of a hundred
Million stars.
Slowly she turns her head
And
Tipping back, the pearl
Rolls down.
Swallowed safe
From the angry glare
Of the Day-King.
About Me
- roberto kiam borderlineartist@gmail.com
- I live in a quaint, little town, plagued with the specter of speculation and commerce. I am trailer trash,with wishes for good dishes. I shoulda died long ago, but like a rescue dog, didn't. I am indescribably scattered. I speak three languages. I walk a tenuously, true path. I am lucky. For myself, for others. God, it is said, protects orphans, widows and the innocent.
1 comment:
earth shadows
I am a pig for life; a pig for love.
what is love?
it is a sense of self that goes beyond the
perfecto image: the self that we pretend to be; the flawless being that floats somewhere in our ethereal dream.
love is the freedom to make mistakes,
not burying ones mistakes under mounds of excuses
or forgetfulness.
love is being gentle with our flaws,
rather than concealing them under pancake makeup
or sweeping them into the corner where they may be
mistaken for dust bunnies.
love is the ability to care so much about our little self
that when our big self overshadows,
we can inch our way back.
love is the ability to embrace one’s shadow; to tend through tenderness to one’s dark side.
to be gentle with our weaknesses requires more love than being content or puffed up with our strengths.
to dare to be vulnerable and open and self revealed requires more courage than being ego guarded and camouflaged; shored up like a crumbling cliffside.
love is not always happy; nor is it always joyful; it is constant; steadfast friendship with one's self through the thickets of our daily living.
narcissism is the opposite of self love; it is non ability to love one's whole being and rather to be lost in the exterior image; an abbreviated, often polished fragment;
it is to be obsessive with external beauty;
and to be lost in pretense.
narcissism is a vampire in its constant need for approval or recognition. to lead an airbrushed life is to be wounded in the heart's deep core.
love is the acceptance of our innate godness in all of its multi faceted manifestation; to rock safely in the cradle of one's whole being.
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