Thursday, May 23, 2019

Black Sheep of the Family

8:29 PM 0 Comments
"The so-called 'Black Sheep' of the family are, in fact, seekers of liberation roads for the family tree. Those members of the tree who do not adapt to the rules or traditions of the family system, those who were constantly seeking to revolutionize beliefs, going in contrast to roads marked by family traditions, those criticized, tried and even rejected, those, by General, they are called to release the tree of repetitive stories that frustrate entire generations.

The 'Black Sheep', those who do not adapt, those who scream rebel, repair, detoxify and create a new and blooming branch... countless unfulfilled desires, unfulfilled dreams, frustrated talents of our ancestors manifest themselves in their rebellion looking to take place.

The family tree, by inertia, will want to continue to maintain the castrating and toxic course of its trunk, which makes its task difficult and conflicting... that no one makes you doubt, take care of your 'rarity' as the most precious flower of Your Tree. You are the dream of all your ancestors "
- Bert Hellinger

Art by Jeremy Enecio

Shared on Facebook by ShamanTube

Friday, May 17, 2019

I P.E.N. Thee: Wake Up Atom (Adam)

6:10 PM 0 Comments
Cosmic Artist By Alex Grey
♪ Row, row, row your atoms
Gently down the stream of consciousness
Merrily merrily, merrily, merrily
Life is but a dream ♪

Out of the skull of illusions comes the brain; and once that is gone, there is nothing; a mere void, a trifling pretense of something that was once there, something that occupied space and time and preoccupied time and space; but now neither exist except for then. Then when there was once a skull filled with a brain utilized in this thing called life that now no longer exist; but was once existent then; then whence attached to a body. And oh of the body, 'what was that'; a thing clothed in skin, wrapping the bones that encased the skull and trapped the heart in a cage. And what is this of the heart, given literary significance of painful sorrow and joy, when but the heart is just a organ, it beats neither for you nor me. Simply an instrument beating to the rhythm of the lungs. And what is it of lungs but repetitive cycles of filtered pollutants; perhaps even recycled atoms of once upon a 'what was that'. Oh but air, without such there'd be nothing; no gamma waves, no beats, nor sighs; just layers of lifeless flesh, once upon a body. Now a corpse slowly decomposing, awaiting for the dust to settle or burnt remnants of shattered ashes to clear the air. Merely, practical particles; atoms degeneratively converging toward another and yet another form, in a endless loop of looking back wondering,'what was that'; of the skull, of the thing the skull encased, of the flesh, of the caged heart, of the polluted lungs, of the circulating air. Until at long last; thought itself becomes but a thing once thought; unaware that any of this, 'what was that'; convoluted conversation perhaps once existed. Oblivious, forevermore; evaporated into the abyss of never ending nothingness. Having ever so
Creation of Atom by Natalie Doud
briefly emerged from a once upon a time; whence a pendulum jiggled beyond the realms of possibility, creating the greatest optical illusion ever.

Author: Jeane Michelle Culp (ndpthepoetress)
© #922-3-z6-118710-4

Tuesday, May 07, 2019

Rest In Peace

11:04 AM 0 Comments
There is a Graveyard on my way to and from work. It is plotted along a winding and twisting road, much like life. Across the road there is a ditch. Given any windy day, you will see the ditch filled with flowers,💐 wreathes... from the graveyard⛼. I understand that's how the gushing gusty winds blow. However; I can't help wonder if it could be ghosts,👻 spirits throwing the flowers....as if to say,🖐️Hey you didn't bring me flowers🌹 when I was alive, so don't bring me flowers now🥀 😢. So please, 'Don't wait until your loved ones are dead to give them flowers', shower people now with flowers.🌹 , kindness, affection, hugs🤗.....❤️ And if you can't afford flowers; there are plenty of free discarded flowers, in a ditch across from the graveyard near me.
*I would have liked to have shown the sad picture of this elongated flowery filled ditch, however; I didn't want to risk life and limb on this winding dangerous road and become another permanent resident⚰️ in that graveyard!😛   ~ndpthepoetress of BindingInk.org
Art by Gypsie Raleigh