cubicle

i once had an office job
it
was
worse
than
death.
i
haven't
died
yet
and yet
i can say that
for sure.
i was in a coma
behind a computer
calling strangers
attempting to manipulate them
into giving
us their money.
And when i say 'us',
i really mean them.
Now i make less $
and am endlessly happier.
i have had organic earth in between
my skin and fingernails
for a month now.
i wear it with pride.

The more I do, The more I can do.

It's a windy night and the rain just started coming
The autumn crisp is here and it feels new and comfortable
 like friendship

I have love
and I know who I am, Where I'm from and going

And the lightening starts
the moon is in gemini

I went to a new town where I met an artist who channels the beyond
she was so excited to share what has been coming through her
It felt like a mirror

As meeting people often does

I am love

I killed myself on Facebook, didn't like that taste of reminiscence

I love everyone, ecstatic to be alive

Feeling like I'm in France

In the morning the sun dries each blade of grass and the birds make beats with the crickets

The clouds come back and promise rain to the thirsty earth

god and other magic spells/in the woods

What we're calling god is a multitude of forces at work
i got the answer from the forest, humbly asserting that nature is the original artist
Each tree in this woods is god
As are the fungi, the moss, lichens, the breeze, the bird and his song
And also all of it together, this micro climate of meditative wisdom is god
And not simply my observations but the ability to witness them is also the quiet creatitude deemed god
But sometimes, if for no other reason than to open up a space free of religious connotations, i'd like a new word for that
A word that doesn't fit neatly into any recognizable language, something more like a soundless sound, a feeling beyond feelings, an expansiveness absorbing all that surrounds it (everything) with fearless abandon, unconditional love
Love free of the trappings of Hallmark love, beauty mag love, or even rigid christian love, a natural, whole-hearted reciprocity, universal in it's scope, innocent and spontaneous in it's plan
The sort of thing that wakes me up in the morning, gently with a motherly embrace that tickles my inner senses with an infinite gratitude to be alive, right here, exactly wherever it is that i am
In this way god is everywhere and we can wake up anytime

Voice

my Voice is like the moonlight, the fresh breeze blowing across the field, the way that feels on hard-work's skin

my Voice is ever-present, itching to be heard and yet the fear holds it back sometimes

My head wraps around heart and chokes the soft wet caves where my Voice resides

and my truth gets stuck to the soles of the shoes of my pride

Conscious Execution

I don't know much about it yet, but next month I will be going to slaughter.

From the sound of that first sentence, I could very well be one of the chickens. I intuit that they have an idea of what we want them for, maybe no more details than that we will take their lives brutally without the kind of gratitude a natural chase in the wild would produce. I understand that many people think that chickens are stupid and I'm not disagreeing, I would actually add that most humans have the potential to be equally stupid, I am not saying they are smart, i am saying they have something we don't. All animals do. Even if we fence them in, take their eggs and put them on a tight feeding schedule, they have information that can't be put into language.

I'm no scientist but I am positing that there is information in dirt, in grass, in the DNA of weeds, there is information in trees and in decomposing matter (shit, bodies, fruit etc). This data is like nature's record keeping system and animals are fluent in that language where as we, if we once were, are currently not.
Don't get me wrong, I eat meat. I ****ing love it. I am also a woman and I stand fast to the belief that we who carry wombs around find it more difficult to take life unconsciously. I am talking about a prayer and a moderate amount of forethought and consideration...details of progressive, humane death-house to come.

Yo Maine

When you live in a city, greatly removed from nature you may
feel the need to look up the symbology of an insect if it lands on you
and
when you live in the country, in the nature (In IT), you would never be able to
find the time to look up all that symbology...of the hairless caterpiller
who crossed your path twice, the twenty separate ones with hair who found themselves on your hand, in your hair, your neck, a coat hanging in the greenhouse as you walk past...additionally, it would be extraneous since out here, in the country, in the midst of nature doing her thang, symbology has merged perfectly with literal reality and everyday becomes an infinity of pixels ever adjusting, connected and interdependent on you and one another and all the questions they ask in the city, here,  you can't utter them, not only would they sound silly but they have been answered, silently before you can urge your voice box forth.

Somehow, without meaning to, I've ended up exactly where I need to be.
A spiritualist said to look closer at Blueberries and to go to France. She also said I'd be working on a farm, with lots of time to make art.
Watching the food grow here in Eastern Maine is opening my eyes to so much magic, so many other worlds all around me.

I am deep in love with life.

On election day when some are hustling to the poles to put in their vote I guess I'll be working as hard and efficient as possible, harvesting, planting, building, maintaining, in other words, I'll vote with my acts.