Carried Charge of How to Write One Song

Seasoned musician echoing request

Who am I to think
— singer-songwriter
dropping healing beats
having to translate
vibratory sounds
— birthing from sacred songs
charged by a request
for something spiritual?

From a messenger unaware of carried charge — how to write one song — gifted energy of something yielding greater returns by a seasoned musician requesting a personal touch to an already intense set of collective beats. I am left wondering why me?

Still working
on perfecting
— written words
untranslated from open skies
to heartfelt knowing
all that was ever
authored — recorded tracks
— hanging out at the barricaded mind
fear of self-expressing
penning my own
translating into something greater.

World’s expansive sounds — unfolding laundries of tainted — soiled heartbeats riddled by Ritalin’s potential echoing submissive song — pausing to gather the fabric to weave a sacred tune. Interlaced with wounds self-inflicting repeating tales — caught up in self-talk and self-denial — gratitude paints a different canvas within my soul.

Accepting this call
— forgotten words
bi-tonal exhausted
— throat-singing taking
seat in the back
to something
heartfelt, changing
outlooks and outcomes
— forward leading
— driver’s seat
buckled in for journeys unknown.

~ Ani Po

A crazy taste of reality, this song pairs nicely with the message carried tune. Please listen and ponder the song and the personal written words on this page.

Thank you J.D. Harms and the whole Scrittura family, for the prompting of digging deeper into inner-understandings of self and expressing these words.

The above image does not match the words on this page but is worthy of a similar thought when standing at the top of a mountain in Tipon, overlooking the Garden of Wirachocha. While pondering a recent request for writing a new song for the Mofo Bros, a family approached, playing the mandolin and singing a heartfelt song. Joining in dance with strangers, becoming familiar and familial with another, I knew at that moment to challenge myself once again and write a song. Song to come, not yet translated into words, but as I know with writing poetry, it forms when it is time to release.

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.

Joseph Lieungh

Shadow Remains, Taking a Back Seat to Lightened Visionary Thought

Deep contemplative records spin

Tadpole’s first swim in the vast open waters of self-discovering thoughts — squashed by human’s stomping ways of never understanding where to plant the next steps. Division of wholeness — two atoms colliding — forcing a split — fission of original grounds, once stood upon.

Ways of old — ancient as a big yellow ball in the sky — forcefully turned against oneself, battling shadows of doubt — ergo Jungian thought, green light given by Captain* himself. From the morning of life, playtime on schoolyards barking wall — afternoon of life, working in the slave yards of giving and never receiving.

Prescribed thought by other tongues — failing to be of own sound mind, forcefully giving time — muscle to the perpetual motion of the great machine. Worn out — hung out to dry — dirty old sweats baring blood and stains of soul-inflicted abuse.

The levee breaks

Weeping willows

Washed out back to sea

Drowning in two conflicting pools — streaming airwaves collectively — consciousness revealed — superpowers buried outback, only to dig up the ancient beliefs. Stories of two wolves present themselves — three halves of Ino Moxo calling out by name — four directional stares from past, present and future self.

Acceptance

Forgiveness

Declaration I AM Here

Easterly pull — straight into morning rise of collective aggregation — shadow self-following — cast to the winds past formidable. Tattered soul, making his way back home — plugging into Tesla’s power bank of ever-charging batteries — atomic time clock set and with the snap of fingers resetting the Canvas of Self — third person singular.

Deep contemplative records spin — hokey pokey and dead or alive playing in cosmic tunes — dancing with inspiration. Laughing at oneself — medicine for soulful knowing of truth — observing all before and latitude spanning global wrapped blanketed by the stars — an illusion of self and all things transformed physical reality.

It is done

Go forth

Shadow remains, taking a back seat to lightened visionary thought.

~Ani Po

I was originally going to table these thoughts until my return from a soul-filling trip to Peru, but sleep was interrupted by the spinning of words. Submitting to the call, I chose to submit before boarding.

I could not resist when J.D. Harms* gave the green light for Jungian thought.

As a child, we are born whole, only to be told how to act or what to think. Spinning our lives in confusion and conflicting thoughts until the day comes, choosing the steps placed before us.

Knowing the shadows still exist, we honor them while moving towards the morning sun. Forever casting shadows of doubt behind us while leaving illuminated steps for others to follow.

I am no expert, and these are my personal thoughts. Traveling the world and discovering self is all I ever claimed to know.

Thank you J.D. Harms, Zay Pareltheon, Melissa Coffey and the whole Scrittura family for accepting these words.

Thank you Kacy Singh for her piece pertaining to one area of shadow-self, our perfectionist behaviors. Please give it a read.

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.

Joseph Lieungh

See you all on my return.