Navigating familial traumatic poetic song

Photo by Matheus Ferrero on Unsplash

Landing amongst stars, distant galaxies insight, witnessing layers self, family, collective whole, passerby fixed upon undoing realities, kaleidoscope focused. Lost at the corner of self and mastery, losing thoughts captivating clicks, claps, applauds, followers settled on thousands.

Tripped somewhere between Venus and Uranus, falling, entering earthly thermosphere, returning ranch dipped buffalo sauce, story-teller remains. Working puzzles, rolling another smoke, scissors cutting nicotina rustica, spoken word, tethered and grounded returns, our story is told.

Layered past, present, future self, time travelers beware, entering eldest of generations, witnessing the beginning of time, birthing, Braxton faux pas. A single breath, changing absolute, forward speaking, backward pedaling, altering, exhaling new beginnings, as in the beginning, so storytellers end.

There he was, in between consciousness, altered states, witnessing stories ancestral bodies, present be, there he was telling another tale. “Did you know I got a job?” What do you mean? “I got a job.” Returning from another planetary excursion, grounded for a briefing of another, “Yes, I got a job at a country club parking carts.”

Blasting off HS 8799, planetary motions fitting solar systems twin, twenty-five hundred others awaiting our presence, story-teller continues “they pretty much pay me to sit on the top of the hill and get high, watching carts, nobody’s home.” Hard stop, feet grounded solidly, what did you just say? Laughing as story-teller tethers me to family’s tree, walking my past pain and misery, Jacob’s ladder, in and out of traumatic stops, hurtful memories transmuting as he speaks.

Gathered breath, dragon shape-shifting, expansive belly, collecting Uncle Tom’s, Aunt Betty’s, wounded soldiers on desert plains, cyclone internal, transmuting as he speaks. Lingering narrative, praying for another coming home, story-teller continues guided journey, navigating cosmic proportions, cellular level all the same.

Fuck what was that? My reply. “What did you see?” asks he.

Stellar remnants, galaxy sucked, vanishing black hole, blink another existing as before. Cyclical flight, traveling to and fro, in and out, yet again, distant faded memories, story-teller remains. Cutting his tobacco, rolling another filtered smoke, taking flight as the story continues down unhealed territories time immemorial.

Gathered breath, dragon shape-shifting, expansive belly, collecting Uncle Tom’s, Aunt Betty’s, wounded soldiers on desert plains, cyclone internal, transmuting as he speaks. Lingering narrative, praying for another coming home, story-teller continues guided journey, navigating cosmic proportions, cellular level all the same.

Stopping off, resting, nourishing thirst-quenching drink, crushed, boiled, sweetened and distilled, on the rocks, neatly pleasing appetite. Heart song, playing for all generations, healing touch, angels kiss, reaching deepest wounds, left buried Davy Jone’s Locker, surfacing, bubbled cosmic cellular release, story-teller remains.

Heart song continues day within the night, yin inward yang, curative melody, mind-body and spirit. “You have a gift, a very special gift. Thank you for hearing my stories, thank you for taking my hand. We are healed one story at a time, untold, whispered, thought of, acknowledged the same.”

Phoenix rising, breaking gravitational pull, burning eternal flame crossing skies, present world, thousands passing by. “Almost there “he explains, “come and sit, wiggle them toes, back into flesh we return.” There he was, all the while, story-teller remained.

~ Ani Po