j.mica

(...extended parenthesis...)


HIT ME WITH YOUR BEST SHOT  
red beans & rice after a long day of bench making -Monday night in Nola

red beans & rice after a long day of bench making -Monday night in Nola

Reblogged from theatlantic

to be entangled like seaweed with you

if not with our limbs, then what?

with our minds, our souls, our hearts?

We are already as the kelp, the kombu, the mung, the seagrasses that tickle our legs grasping as we cut through black water, clinging as we float above, creating shadows that hearken sharks and foreboding.

it’s just natural, just nature’s presence

a reminder that it’s not just the lunar man, the mother earth, the water god, and us.

The curves of our celestial bodies turn us upside down and the only roots we have are delicately grounded in ever-shifting sands.

What of it? What of the salt, the freshwater? the waves, the calm, the tides? the pull…the waxing, the waning…

You are not my moon.

I am not your sun and stars.

And that, that, is as real as the innocuous eel grass.

While the body is not the goal of a life devoted to Truth, it is the foundation. Ayurvedic healing
Exuberant toasting is crucial, too. “Budmo,” loosely translated as “Let us be forever!” is roughly equivalent to “cheers.”

"Hurts So Good" by Rosie Schaap, The New York Times Magazine, July 8, 2012

"Loving is supporting another’s growth, learning, and spiritual unfolding….

Often people seem to see love as a limited commodity, like a cake to be cut. If I get a big slice, someone else gets a smaller one. There’s a better way to visualize it. How about imaging love as a handful of balloons each filled with a special love for a particular person, individual, made to measure, a perfect fit. I can hold many, many balloons in my hand at once and everyone I love can have one. Not only that, but each unique and exquisite balloon can remain full, no matter how many balloons I’m holding. And if I’m not physically with someone, I can still be holding their balloon. I can gaze at it, relishing its beauty and think of that person and the love flows between us as though we were together. Even if we never see each other or share time together again, their balloon can remain filled with all the things we shared, the mutual appreciation we’ve felt and the joy of the memory of the quality time we’ve had together. There’s no need to be afraid that one one else can ever have their share. “

p. 136, The 7 Healing Chakras, Brenda Davies, MD
If people are busy living out myths you don’t like, leave them to it. samuel r. delaney, Dhalgren

what happens to a society
when mystery is labeled
as evil?

it yields an ever-connected chain
of false labels and misinterpretations

the indigenous are labeled
as savage terrorists
and plotted against

the open-hearted
are manipulated into slavery

the vulnerable are penetrated
by force of law

citizens
where is your allegiance?

why do you pledge
with a covered heart
when it needs to be opened?

why do you bear arms
with balled fists
and closed palms?

why do you call yourself
a patriot (pater: fr. Latin. meaning father)
when your greatest love has always been
for your mother?

this loaded phallus
has becum
the prevailing metaphor
of the day

you’ve spent your chi
on cheap versions
of the virgin

you’ve worshipped
loopholes in a story
and war shipped
mythic men to glory

if in god’s image
then your god’s
a plastic surgeon

a tyrannic dictator

a coward behind a curtain
with a megaphone

an aging oil tycoon
on viagra
ramming his plow
into the earth
turning up disease
and disaster
out of an ever-dying womb

you will become her cyclical sacrament

menstrual minstrels
footing your own bill
of right left right
marching blindly
into a moonless night
another dimension
where children use chalk
on the sidewalk
tracing their bodies
for the precriminal investigation
of their paternal inheritance:

murder!

men in uniform
take note

love refuses
to take cover

the cloaked enchantress
of your faith
now prevails

if you refuse
yourself and her
then take the fire
from your holster
and *lend your breath*
so that my love and i
may sail

ready
aim
Fire!
water
earth
wind

,said the shotgun to the head, Saul Williams
Reblogged from macabresunrises