By DeVa SoNa
One day a lil girl went running towards the sea. Chased there by life herself. It looked an innocent scene but;
She had no idea how to swim, nor strength to stand up against the waves. Not even knowledge that she might drown.
AND so, she ran.
Chased along the beach into the sea.
And her mother stood and watched.
I want my child back!!!!!!
Alex and mermaid
Ya Muhammad http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nqMxzOoGqqc
I shine a light on your dark side. All is known. There is nowhere to hide from my beaming light.
Darkness is revealed. Collapsed on cold wet tarmac, passed out in car parks, hidden in corners, under buildings, inside holes,
I am the bringer of light, Lucifer. Angel in the Darkness.
Dancing with morning’s light. (BOB murder audio)
promise in hiding from policevideo arrest video, rape abuse video. let me go video cctv diceys
All I need is me. I’m beautiful sure. I know what goes on inside me. I’m beautiful me, everything I need, me.
Lost in thedelicious mesmerism, singing, stretching, drumming yum.
I’m really beautiful me. A goddess bee, dripping honeydewed nectar.
What if god were the heat at the core of the earth? The volcano tearing out mother’s souls; engulfing children in flames.
What if Lucifer were the angel shining light on us: Mother:Child, Man:Woman, as we journey these lvarous coals?
And what if god were the shining light poured upon his children in an extravegant plan? What if god were in each and everyone of us? If we were part of the fabric of it all?
God playing games with himself, calling it life.
I see myself now. The great provocateur. I always was except I didn’t understand and the adjectives used were weird and chaos. Love triggers passion, openess, fear. Shit hits the surface, shooting out like machine gun bullets from the enslaved. Freedom is terrifying, riddled with terror, infested, making man act in ways that push love away. Stamping out life, avoiding her.
They do not know my song. They are not HU man. It means nothing to them when I sing of love.
What I write isnt for your eyes. Your heart can’t comprehend it through your putrid messed up mind. my words are beyond you. You would hack, chop and spew them into oblivion for touching you. my words although of the fabric of your heart are vile to the sordid mind.
govindra the invitation
I listened to him screaming, bullied in his pain. Asking how may I help this man?
Then releasing a Duarrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr, a healing mantra.
A soft blue cloud swept across the station and we eased.
(hiding from police video)
I stretched into the basin washing my feet, with my ass in the air – Off CCTV.
And he oozed onto a wall watching, offering freedom and coffee in exchange for a glimpse of my tits.
I obliged. – Off CCTV, just to be free. In another choice, space, free. Then I danced in their courtyard- On CCTV. Entertaining them with yogic maneouvres, healing me in a place with flashings of sky and breeze. Flashings of free.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=t0GHjti_wzM > Stigmata
I’m a modern day shakespeare. A writer on the run. An undercover journalist. Russian Spy, Lara Croft, activist. Broken and bleeding mum.
Writing on the streets, walls, floors anywhere I will be seen.
Locked up, injured then rereleased for it. Ordered by their courts to stop, beaten into submission, into conformity by many police.
I’ve begged them for a pen but no sobbing of tears softens those souls. Non the less am a writer, I write
Hula( maya angelou video)
I waled towards her graceful smiling face:
A strolling tear fell from her cheek. Her eyes leaning into mine, she cast a buoy, keeping herself afloat.
And she breathed. Stretched, bent and breathed again, easing herself into sleep.
And Dad and Zen and my sweetest smiling Angel.
“Be Love”, she whispered.