International incursions, forays that inspire intentions.
I’m right at the finish line, panting with pace to ace myself…finally.
I figured I found aroha in the form of another, and I did. Our encounters are encouraging, Earthing me to my connections that reach beyond the stars. Starting each day with him/her in my mind and heart is warming.
Warning – do not get lost in love.
I’m listening to Elton John’s Tiny Dancer on my 60s 70s and 80s Pandora mix – this radio station reminds me of that guy in Hawaii, what a cute fulla – uncomplicated and chill. He must’ve thought ‘what the fuck’ when we did our dash.
So many different energies being bound up in this thesis, sometimes I wonder who lived all the lives I describe in its pages…in part they are mine but in part they belong to huka.
He’s a good kunt huka, but he does limit me within the pages and projects of my PhD research. I’ve enjoyed performing him sometimes, other times I have hated his guts because in performing him I lose bits of myself that have always been important.He’s more human than I – he’s quite primal in fact, a fiction though he really is.
I’m letting go of him as I write this other body of text where the words count, have deep meaning and will ripple outward with integrity.
Strange to have to perform a trickster to trick myself back into living.
You are the volcano, full of lava and firey eruptions – untouchable and yet I can’t help but want to put my fingers in you to see how you feel…will I get burned so badly the pain will last forever?
I am the ocean, turbulent with mixed currents – chill and inviting…you want to dive into me but are afraid you will drown, that I will suffocate you in my airless surge.
If only we could hold each other without our senses, it’s senseless to get sentimental – mentally taxing as the moon above us waxes and wanes our moments lived caressing each other’s songs in harmony.
There is an island where we meet.
At first it was just a clump of rocks, clinging for breath as we both poured forth…each day it has grown, grounding itself, giving life and space to love.
We hover there, no fear – it dissapates, dissolving into glitter that becomes the kind of magic that inspires…our island is art. We make, creating pictures and movements, cementing a future of goodness for all our relations.
Hold your head high above the clouds my baby, you are regal beyond belief…I’ll lie low in my books and words, charting darkened terrains for the hidden treasures we can share when we meet in thoughts producing actions, action to thought.
Wow…genderfluid loving at its best.
Heat beats heartily, my heart beats fast…
To contain desire so that emotional stability and spirituality can flower and flourish, can fuck with your head.
Making its madness, creativity is a curse, love is lurid, sex is second guessing and thinking is thirsty.
I am full…
Sing to me but be in pitch – I cannot bear the rising and falling of notes that don’t hit the mark on contact, sounds that scrape the senses of my sanity.
This is aroha sometimes, maybe forever, maybe it will be good, maybe it’ll kill me…I think I am in it.