The Secrets of V

Lyricist, Poet, Thinker, Writer, Student of the Universal Language of Life.

In the dark time, the eyes begin to see.

Theodore Roethke (via biancacherie)

NEW MUSIC..AWDAY it’s more than a group we r a family.

Thoughts about the past are in the present

Thoughts about the future are in the present

The past and Future are in the past and future!

Nothing is an accident.Trying to be here now.

Gossip, small talk, and hanging out … have limited value in breaking through illusion.

Ram Dass, Cookbook for a Sacred Life (via labyrintho)

Tell Me Tomorrow

Thoughts of my future diligently haunt me. So much that I had a conversation with Smokey Robinson and the Miracles last night. I had to start expressing a feeling to them. Mostly a feeling of bewilderment and unfulfilled purpose. Smokey with his soothing voice said to me, “Love will set you free”. Now that I think about it, I don’t know why I didn’t come to see them sooner. Well I guess this was a sort of special occasion because I was on the outside looking in. And Ooh Baby Baby, did I have the tears of a clown. They could totally relate to all my agony and ecstasy. We sat on an old fashioned fire escape in the unruffled mist of night’s dawn. I felt the quiet storm approaching. And before I knew it I was Cruisin’ away from that moment with nothing left, but the Tracks of my Tears.

(Journal Entry from May 10th, 2012)

I should take this advise. lol.

I should take this advise. lol.

(Source: thetaoofdana)

The Question answered by William Blake

What is it men in women do require
The lineaments of Gratified Desire
What is it women do in men require
The lineaments of Gratified Desire

I will be glad and rejoice in your unfailing love, for you have seen my troubles, and you care about the anguish of my soul. You have not handed me over to my enemies but have set me in a safe place. — Psalm 31:7-8

Fear reaches only to the point where the unavoidable begins; from there on, it loses it’s meaning. And all we have left is the hope that we are making the right decision.

The Fifth Mountain, p.146

Another Rehearsal for Morning by Joseph Massey

Beyond a hand
held beyond itself
the mist is too thick to see.
A dream fragment (a phrase
I wanted to remember)
goes mute in this—
extinguished. Call it
consciousness. What
we lose to recover.
Acacia branches bend
the hill’s edge
off-orange. A blur,
a deeper blur.
A clarity I can’t carry.