In our hands, emptied all the same, hearts hidden treasure, willing and able, notwithstanding sacred notions kept hidden for all centuries leading thus far. Fallen, broken, peeking blinders, best-laden plan withheld truths to be told, fallen on deaf ears.
Know Thyself, origins uncertain, Plato nipped it from Pythagoras, who had a friend named Pittacus of Mytilene, cousins sisters friends’ brother Periander who borrowed it from Myson of Chenae or maybe it was Heraclitus who stole it from Cleobulus of Lindus, who found it near Chilon of Sparta, Bias or unbias of Priene I do not know. Still, here we are, attempting to Heal Thyself.
Early to bed, early to rise, makes a man healthy, wealthy, and wise, the aphorism of this nature, falling short to the ones we hold dear. Like the title suggests, we hold the key, Akashic record keepers coming to our aide, hidden messages coming to life without infra-red light-bulb goes off in our head, as if knowing it for centuries, lifetimes, handed down, not the hand-me-downs of matchbox twenty.
Decluttering self-defeating thoughts, traumatic faded memories, ancestral, familial, made up, fictitious, or as real as a hammer smashing thumb. Painful is as Painful was, unearthed, the unmatched twisted reality facing all the masks before.
One by one tried and true, no longer fitting for this room, attempting to fit in, Fitbit failing exercises, levy breaking down illusions. Unsettled, uncertain, Just Can’t Get Enough Personal Jesus, the time before, nothing new under the sun perceptual changing thought process accepting New Order in the court.
Letting it all go, down to the very last belief, what do we know to be genuinely Straight Outta Compton, straight out of the cash cab entering new dimensional vortices, narrowing gate, camels threading needled hay. Looking up, gazing stars, transfixed on the astrological signing of the deeds; looking downward at our own two Stepping Into the Canvas, there in our dominating grasp, no longer for the straws.
There behold, offset shooting stars, transgender calling for recognition, opening to the Way of walking a thin red line, narrowing the road, narrowing the Way. Heartfelt guidance ignored centurial no longer, accepting a voice of Creation Speaking in our native tongue.
There it was all along, the key to universal thought bodies, omnipresence, omnisentience, omni-everything, take hold, run with it, go with the flow, you are it, It Is you, Love is Thyself.
~Ani Po
Grateful for this opportunity of a 30-day Poetry Challenge, presented by .
Much gratitude for those who take time to read, ponder and allow the inner workings of self to come forward. Grateful for the feedback, love shared, and more importantly the Dance with Inspiration. Deep Peace.
Let them Eat Cake
key lime, mango, nourishment, self-love of another sort
Oh, the pain and suffering continued flowing winds of despair, breaking truisms and heart multitude of choirs angels once singing, falling mute to the bitter taste left in one’s mouth. Anger’s raging moments lashing out at the innocent, devilish burning desires retorted back and forth, laying upon one another more feverishly hatred banishing tones, lingering taste in one’s mouth.
Promising not to spread more accumulating decaying supposition, altering realities, transmuting train-wrecks again, and derailing cars falling from universal flow, we look beyond the burning flesh, even beyond the galaxy wound ineffable mysteries. Tissues in hand just in case, emotions flow outwards of left field, craving desire nourishing soul-felt transitioning thought transfigured reality as it may, may we see the gift in returning the gift, another receiving joy, love’s tranquility.
Sweetened pot not for the smoking, yet enjoyable beyond exoplanetary orbital sun-gazing star-bursting, sight-seeing to interminable, let us see what our bakery has in store. This baking, healing moment will be a weekend event, greater than ‘the most amazing show on earth,’ greater than ‘Sunday, Sunday, Sunday, monster truck rally!’
It is time, says the baker to the healer.
The people need more pabulum, agape at the deepest of levels, un-tethered, unwritten yet before, indescribable, taste-altering moods. Fusing South with the North, East to West, Heavens sending depths of internal swelling, we will heal the wounds of our fallen through a magical taste of love-biting goodness, teasing every taste bud and every cellular knowing of love-everlasting.
The day begins with a nourishing thought, written words upon the page, rolling out a dough pieced together collectively by the others’ weekly songs. Kneading, caressing, fondled fondant a possibility, layers a necessity to counter the layers hidden in plain sight.
Granulated sweetness provided by the swaying trees coconuts falling at our feet, mixing a hen-pecked countering the hand-picked selflessly giving trees of life. Buttery coating, Slick Rick teasing with the old-school trade of thought, once be told, henceforth returning speculation, neither candy nor sugar-coated lining lower realms of being.
For the time it takes to change a load, merely the cost of lifetimes of work, deep-rooted tail-pulling layers of battered soulful evolution, bottom dweller to thaumaturgies promise of out of this worldly flavorful mix one up for me. It is only one layer of our subconscious! Still worthy of rejoicing! -healer to the baker, reminding of love pouring into every layer of physical form, shaping, forming realities, visionary design as once unbeknown, made whole from broken yokes, sifting through sweetest and most bitter of ingredients.
Softened stares, glaring, ice-piercing relaxing tone, mixing the pungent and fragrant alike, together-forming, collective-holding, heart-felt spoken truths filling pan of once emptied vessels, the sacred body of ness taking form. Reminded of the once heated battle, past weakened knees, yearly encounters, met with more heat, turning flashpoint into a cosmic ordination of well-being.
Secret ingredient exposing sacred flow, Key’s nectar of the gods, pairing dairy land’s subtle kiss packaged in rectangular form, Neufchâtel formerly known. Hen’s laying thoughts aside thrice remaining yokes of any given moment, broken, is no longer what it was cracked up to be.
Here is the artwork, masterful bakers planning his or her presentation, slowly toiled low temps, complex exit least splitting headaches, words failing in comparison. Attempts made or accepting the yielding course, heat removed, rest in warmth, blanketed sun radiating through the looking glass.
The patience of a saint, the elders’ wisdom, the anticipation of a child; fusing healed, abused, dazed, and confused no longer the case, just becoming another peeled-back layer yielding sweetest news. Smelling what the Rock is cooking, drooling over the pinup centerfold hidden within the taste of home’s favored dish, a foretaste of our desiring thought transmuting once again, love pours from the heat of the moment.
Chilling tales of yesteryear, grandmothers’ recipe falling short of its claim such as this truth be told, behold next layer with the gentleness of a dove, fruitful tropical twist to spirits’ guided message. Tropical trees are flowering plant genus Mangifera, mango simply stated, test-tasting treat teasing tongues of tempered beings awaiting rainbows’ promising days.
Chill out for yet another session, as long as it takes to Netflix another of our favorites, reading a few chapters of a famous author, or scrolling and trolling social feeds and tweedy bird’s needs. The gelatinous orange heated course is next in line, under-the-fire blending mixed-miseries worth its weight in gold.
Secrets to sharing its worth are dividing and subtracting two, hidden piecing-together, familial bonding over the masterpiece, sharing with the world. Dabble, droplet, a dollop of whipping creamery delight, kissed with love, sealed with peace and tranquility.
Not knowing what to do amidst the pain and sufferings of the others at work, meditated efforts not nearly enough, yet answers flowing response comes forth to share in heartfelt song, during love’s favorite key to happiness-cheesecake!
Yes, one of my favorite things to bake is cheesecake. Although time has not permitted in some time, it is a necessary feat for the calling winds of suffered and tattered souls. I am clearing my schedule to create this masterpiece for all to enjoy, tastefully and deliciously bound by love and peace pouring from my heart to their own.
Today’s flavor of the day will be a key-lime, mango cheesecake on a sugar and coconut cookie crust.
The first layer will be from a cookie recipe of sorts with ginger and coconut lightly teasing the dough. Baked for ten minutes, allowing fusion of ingredients to take place. Cooled while next layer is mixed with a taste of The Florida Keys, intertwining and dancing with flavorful creamy Wisconsin delight. Baked slowly at select temperature, while keeping the door closed at all times. Temperature turned off to rest for another set time.
Cracking of the door, allowing breath of life to kiss the very mixture, once singularly, turned collectively, brought together as one amazing olfactory smell bomb teasing one into craving desire of just a little bite. Out comes the first and second layer cooling to perfection once again, careful and slowly chilled non-cracking layer.
To create the next no bake cheesecake, placed atop the first layer carefully chilling in assisted living in the fridge, one must puree the mangoes delicately singing songs of praise and thanksgiving for this fruit of the tropics, blanketed by another package of softened cream from the Midwest. Sweetness to taste and recipe will follow in coming days.
Chilled again, pondered thought of weekly transgression and hurtful words exchange, songs of wholeness and healing sounds from intergalactic beings transfer worldly issues to far distant planetary systems, awaiting the gelatinous mango layer blanketing the created healing song via masticated transverse reality of spoken words.
Much gratitude for those who take time to read, ponder and allow the inner workings of self to come forward. Grateful for the feedback, love shared, and more importantly the Dance with Inspiration. Deep Peace.
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