Since Lady Kundalini cracked my crown, there's been a spilling forth of Self. Most of me is focused on the conscious creation of my novel: Don't Drink the Punch, but this blog is a sponge, mopping up the overflow of poetry and other stuff. Enjoy.
Hoopnotica came down from Los Angeles to teach at Dance Jam and the same weekend, I broke my toe. Regardless, Dancing within the hoop is a profound meditation. It's an art to stay in your center while the chaos of the world swirls around you. Click on the Belly Button for more pix.
don't be fooled by this glimmering gown where you see beauty, intelligence, desire that is only my convincing costume but if you strip the personality down off my shoulders, over my hips, you may behold my naked nature, obvious but hidden, I'm absolute bliss.
Her eyelids Look like lips Her lashes like invitations Extending out to be kissed But not too brief, Her stare is constant Penetrating While my longing Limitless
Anticipation Escalating from the base of my heels crisscrossing my ankles, calves, knees, thighs up my bare back One pearl at a time 'Till I meet you in my mind
I didn't mean to sink my freshly manicured acrylics into your jugular. Perhaps next time you'll exercise a little more impulse control. Keep your hands off my ass, I'll keep my nails out of your neck. Are we agreed? --Kamala Devi
I sit before the absolute and sense she doesn't give a shit how I live or die. God simply is. Ultimate choice is up to me And instead of activating an existential crisis, I flood with overwhelming compassion for the atheist. --Kamala Devi
Today, I took eating contemplation at a local café down the street. Some punk kid with spiked hair saw me sitting alone and smirked. Instead of averting my eyes, as would've been my stock response, I looked back and really saw... This is the work: Being open to see... The temple that the mind interprets as a café, the buddha that the ego thinks is a threat, The penetrating glimpse of God that almost went unnoticed. -- Kamala Devi
Words plucked from the river of collective consciousness and plopped down on the page to dry, lest they float by, to be fished out by some downstream poet, on some other clear day.
there's no desire in the dance it's moving, feeling, flowing into space and suchness there's nothing to want each pregnent moemnt rolls forward offering fullness deliviering breath after breath and with each the birth of possibility, forgiveness, and direct experience
There's a place I know Not far from here where if you listen, really listen a little peice of earth cracks open revealing heaven and if you sit still enough you just may slip through this crack, falling upward into grace. --Kamala Devi
Seeking more pleasure. Surging towards an end which does not exist. And in the swirling rise and fall, should you ride a crest so high it's confused for a climax, Know there is no such pinnacle. Only the starting point of another wave... rushing towards more