Magically Fantastic

Under the river
Over the bridge
To the woods
In the city
To the place we were kids


I want to see
I want to feel
I want to be
I want to peel

The distinctive layers
Of casting characters
Of the spaces of real life players
Of the game played in the shade
Of the way we see the sun today
The train of thought is strong I must say


Aura Blending

Pressed into sweat
Dripping and mixing
Muscled pathways of perfection
Closer and closer
Sifting and drifting
Thoughts blissing
Sweet kisses
Sleepy and dreamy
Remembering memories
Electromagnetic organics
Fantastic happenstance
Simply being
Not needing
But seeing deeply
Heart beat ambience
Stationary dancing
Renaissance romancing
Emotional bleeding
Universal reading
Peacefully shielding
Unified feeling


Love Yourself

Quite simply and quite plainly
Spring flowers are for the ones
Who dive in heart waters playfully
And look into the fresh winds for the sun

For the seekers and the reachers
For the students and the teachers
For the yogis and the gurus
For the young ones and the old too

We cuddle, we crawl, we walk, we stall,
We stand, we run, we dance, we have fun

Yet they seem so separate and different
But they are ourselves at a mere distance
And I seem to be what you tell me that I’m missing
But to me I am a precipitation of an ethereal cloud misting

Listen, love yourself my children…


Wasted Spaces

Blatant misuse of money power

Raping poor lands with condo towers

Industrial wasteland turned to pseudo playgrounds for the rich

How much do you think these developers really paid for this shit

Now they charge an arm and leg for the ignorantly naive to live in them

Depressing the neighborhood, using it for its cheap spaces bought up and chopped up unfairly and unsustainably

Not giving back value but raking in the wealth and exclusive privacy stocked up without care and wastefully

No economic activity or health on the street

Just giant walls, garbage, and one corporatized market of fake meats and processed sweets

Once the unified city, now parcels of problems that scream

The landscape architect and dreamer in me wants to try to solve them with green


The Pain of a Generation

At what point is this enough?

The endless cycles of life being rough

The mindless sayings that we need to be tough

You’re speaking to a 15,000 year old computer machine

You’re telling me I’m nothing but a dream within a dream

You’re not letting us scream when we really need

Matter can’t be destroyed or created

My insatiable hunger for more may be belated

For a way of living so erased and outdated

Give me a trade to replace the fading impermeable sidewalks for grass of jade green

Do you start see the pictures painted by me?

Do you really feel me or is it a seemingly so thing?



Moving womb room rock me to sleep like an uptown train
French press my morning thoughts like a freshly printed piece of news information

Hurdling the immortal beings
Being nothing but in the present moment scene
Breath connected to my chest
The best has yet to come in fashionably late

Procreate, reinstate, fascinate, never too late
Our fate, is the way, we make decisions presently

I am an ethereal being taking things slowly
Consciously connected to the sayings of the latest showings

Gallery of ideas and canvas of color
Human value is decided by a dollar
Don’t wear a tie and don’t wear a collar
Don’t show your slavery nor blindly behave to the stolen powers
Question the cruel castings of the old molds from the past stories told
Let the beauty all around you infinitely unfold


A Spring Fever Dream

Get out of that building and catch some feelings.
Catch a breath of fresh air and show some self care.
Run in the sun.
Play in the shade.
Be creative and slightly misbehave.
Kiss the ground you walk on cause one day it’ll be your earthly grave.
See the sacred and curse the profane.
Be the inspiration and be the change.
Be the muse of a painting and be forever immortalized in time and space.
Today’s grace will erase tomorrow’s pain.


Peace in the Deepest

Centuries of war torn scorn from our ancestors
A pivotal point in our past leads to a deeper resonance in the present
Opportunity stands in front of you and beckons you to the adventure
Fear is the best weapon as wisdom is the best lesson

You died when you refused to stand up for justice
You tried when all odds busted against your head, you know you must’ve
The only way is by the light filtered through the universal love and…


The Hill We Build

I travel the under-street venation which seems to be the city-state connection.
The network lattices are circulating minds all over space and time.
If so than maybe an independent hive body, then so that is the massive multi-story ant colony.

Split spaces shine upon our faces as we seem to seek heavens and havens.
Partially shared for and partially cared for, these are the odes to our personal paradise places.

I slice into the thick of the moment and I dissect what is most potent.
The energy is observed like a scientific mist of ethereal bliss.
Non-judgements of an archetypical understanding demands an answer quite quietly yet grandly.