On Fearlessness – Torn

I seem to have a current theme related to the notion of being torn apart and the idea of somehow having having seams that could rip.

I have no idea if other people can relate to that notion or visualize the feeling, but when I am in a state of disarray, it almost always comes with this notion of being torn apart or being faced with a precipice of some sort. A chasm within which my schism can fully evolve and dance with itself.

Some may call it duality. In the Shambhala Buddhist community that I grew up in, it was often referred to as the “Genuine Heart of Sadness”. That inherent longing that’s part of our human nature and is always present when we take the time to slow down and let it be. I no longer practice within that community because of a series of trauma-related incidents (there is a long history of abuse and sexual assault you can read about in this Walrus article). Still, I believe there is a lot of validity to many aspects of Buddhist teachings, including things like this:

The genuine heart of sadness comes from feeling that your nonexistent heart is full. You would like to spill your heart’s blood, give your heart to others. For the warrior, this experience of sad and tender heart is what gives birth to fearlessness. Conventionally, being fearless means that you are not afraid or that, if someone hits you, you will hit him back. However, we are not talking about that street-fighter level of fearlessness. Real fearlessness is the product of tenderness. It comes from letting the world tickle your heart, your raw and beautiful heart. You are willing to open up, without resistance or shyness, and face the world. You are willing to share your heart with others.

Fearlessness is such a difficult thing to understand, embrace, and live by. It requires putting ourselves in uncomfortable positions and really challenging ourselves. We need to push ourselves to understand that what we perceive to be real is actually the byproduct of years of conditioning, trauma, experiences, and so on so forth. Embracing fearlessness is a lifelong path and it takes time, dedication, and intent in order to practice is successfully.

My biggest practice of fearlessness revolves around trust. Trusting people, trusting myself, trusting the basic goodness in the world, and trusting that generally everything is and will be OK. So many situations arise where the black and white thinking of my brain creates a problem that doesn’t quite exist. At least not in the format I visualize it in. I project into my feelings of helplessness and expectations. When situations arise, as they often do, where I’m confronted with a sense of despair, I always feel torn.

Torn

gazing through windows
which side is
the one you’d wish to be on?
they say the grass
is always greener on the other side
but the grass here
is dying as the earth freezes

how can you know
where the grass
is greener
when you live
in a concrete jungle?

my patchwork
goes through phases
and fantasies
of worlds i don’t fully inhabit
privy to dirty laundry
aired only for the observant
it’s a whiff of something foul
like a sock stuffed
down my windpipe

a constant ache
period pains
on steroids in my soul
an incessant reconstruction
of broken chords
and weaker promises

how can i reconstruct
when my sandcastle
is constantly
washed away
by the tides of
misconceptions
and misspoken words

what does it mean
to do things
my way?
is there a highway
in the case that
one party can’t follow
off the beaten path?

my being
is here but not at all
all at once
an existence fraught
with whys and hows
i am desperate
to tear free
from the bindings and stitches
of my person

eons have passed
and yet differences
are but intellectualized
reasonings
that not even the
toughest lobster cracker
can shatter
to reveal the aching
pulsating
terrified thing
that is
your heart

Gods and Heathens

Remote locations
Ignite and unfurl deep passions,
As Pele and Kamapua’a
Bear witness, shedding tears of joy.

Feasting on energies,
Primordial and long forgotten.
The Succubus Lilith devours
Humble servants of the flesh
In resolute embrace.

Up, down, beneath, above
Through and through
Bodies intertwining
Beyond understanding.
A tapestry of lust,
Woven by Arachne herself.

The echo of desperation:
A hand longing to grasp
Harder… Harder. Harder!

((((((((( Resonates )))))))))

Through soft pine like
Hephaestus’ thundering blow.

Warm breaths on soft skin
Cries forever lost in a pillow
Beating hearts,
Trying to rip themselves
From their carnal shells.

Symphonic melodies give way
To carnal compositions
Orchestrated by Pan,
Playing the body of Syrinx
In the form of a flute.
Plaintive gasps and tortured cries,
Frozen in time, forever…
Only relieved by the echo of our love.

Bunny 🐇

Deer in headlights,
Sublime emanations and elevations
Poet pierced earnestly
By an artist’s flair
For the unknown and the unusual.
A rabbit in a hole,
Ready to eat your secret garden.
Shhhhh…

Behold

I just want to be loved.

Never again owned, beaten, caged…
By a man incapable of seeing the gift before him, open-armed.

I am not a concept, a portrait, an expectation.
Break barriers, push boundaries, draw power
Spit it out in the form of glitter and light,
Choke on rainbow unicorn cocks…

That is what I do.
This is who I am.

I am power, fear, excitement,
anguish relieved with the press of a little pink button.

I am whole, indifferent to norms important to scared little boys
who happen to miss mama.

I am not a weight to be suffered.
But a Queen to be held high,
Coveted…
Not a toy for the small-minded and unsure,
Cowards with their tails between their legs.

I’m the alpha bitch!

My legs open only for the worthy,
Savour…
With the tip of your tongue.
The sacred nectar,
Source of eternal power within.

I am immutable strength.

Never again owned, beaten, caged…

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