And now for something different…

I usually don’t post other people’s work on this site. In fact I think I’ve only done it once before. But recently this poem came my way, having been written by a friend. Created in the midst of yet another migraine, it is intense, raw; the word ‘visceral’ comes to mind. However, it is also, to me, incredibly well-written so I offer it to you.

The author’s name is Jorge A. S. Pereira. If you want to make contact with him, he can be reached at – poetofeverydaytruth at gmail.com

whatajokeofmadness

by: Jorge A. S. Pereira ©2015

I
whopperofaheadache
no
amigraine
afuckinmigraine
again
throbbingpounding
cantbelieveitheadache
likeahammeronacoconut
shellabouttocrackandsplit
notagainmigraine
likebraininironcage
tossedandbangedaround
stuckandcantgetout
fuckincagedinpain
itsadevilinsidethehead
takingpillsforit
aroundtheclock
likenursing
no
likenursingno
appeasingrelentlessmonster
yamonsterofmigraine
sotiredoflivingwithmigraine
thatgotamakeyouold
thataloneagesandcrumbles
andthatsnotenough
thisfuckinmigraine
nonono
othehearthastojoinin
acheslikehelltoo
beatskipsandspeeds
goesallerratic
othepain
thepainofsuddenstabbing
thepainoflongneedle
reallylongneedle
slowlyinjectedandgoingin
fuckindeepgoingin

//

cantbelieveitmigraine
cantbelieveitheartache
allatonceonegiganticpain
everymomentfeelsproblematic
yanotagain
itslikeaninvaderinthehome
yourfuckinhome
onceinman
youcantgethimoutquickly
nosir
hetakeshissweettime
youkeepproddinghimgently
notupsethimyousee
hopinghefuckinleavessoon
itsnevertoosoon
forthecagedbrain
screaminginpain
heck
forthecagedmindeven
maybeonlyonecurethen
tositinthequietlandscape
yathelandscapeofsolitude
intotaldarkness
orsomedimlighting
thatsright
thetypeofdarknessandlighting
ofalunarnight
waydeepinthecountryside
likeyoualone
inthemiddleoftheuniverse
thatsright
justalone
somewherealone
inaveryquietuniverse
justenoughlighttoseewhereiamgoing
shit
justtoseewhereiam
forthisfaintheart
thisficklemind
onlythesimplegentlepleasures
nottoofastnottoosudden

///

evenslowandgentle
fuckincrazy
evenslowandgentle
canbetoomuch
thatshowcrazy
amistrongtojustbehere
orplainstupidtotolerate
theseraspymomentsthatgrate
soiamhere
withawhopperofamigraine
arattledbrain
hopingforrelief
soonisverygood
hopingforlongmomentstobebrief
nothereyet
couldlastaweekibet
likemanytimesbefore
thesedevilsknockingonmydoor
soidancewiththefuckininvader
dancewiththefuckinmonster
strangehowthebodyfeelslikeatraitor
strangehowyoufeelpossessedbyyourownmind
whatatriplifeis
peaceofmindwouldbegood
butawisegurutoldthatsinsane
youeitherhavepeace
youeitherhavemind
youcannothavethemtogether
youhavetodecidewhichofthetwo
yawhatatriplifeis

////

soisithere
multiplepainandall
draggingtobewell
likeanangelthatsufferedafall
seekingtogazeonasaintlyface
tofeelwrappedbyholiness
theholinessofnature
thatsanctityofnature
naturethatsthefaceofthegoddess
thesmilinggoddess
thatsright
iseekhertouchandpresence
todrowninherembraceandsolace
thereimayfeelabitofmyessence

/////

fuck
whoknowsanyway
thewholefuckinworldisdelusional
everythinginitisdelusional
andthatmeansmeandeverybeing
sowhatthen
sowhatnow
fuckinnothing
trytothinknothing
trytodonothing
justfuckinsitandsit
andletthestormpassby
thatsright
waitandwaitandwait
maybeiamdoingjustfine
amstillhereaminot
wellthatswhereeverythingstartsandends
thatgotabesomething
right
here
now
whatelsebuthereandnow

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This is for you…

I’ve had 22shangrila up and running for awhile now. Some of you have been following here since the beginning; others are new, or at least newer. Some click ‘like’ having found something in that moment that speaks to you and then you are gone into the internet mist, never to be heard from again. Some come back. Some choose to hang around.

To all of you, I want to say – THANK YOU!

Thank you for being touched by something in this site, whether that be poetry, an article, or some of the other work I do. Thank you for letting me know. And thank you for choosing to follow to see what else might show up here.

The purpose of 22shangrila has always been to communicate – to speak to the language of the heart in us all, no matter the form or moment – but especially through the power of word, image, and story. And of course to let you know what I’m doing.

I’m not the best at answering, or for that matter at clicking ‘follow’ to your sites when you come to mine. Apologies. The intention is often there. I do take a look at what you’re doing if you click ‘like’ on mine, and I often say to myself, ‘I must make a comment, a thank you, an I-like-your-work-too’. But then the moment goes, the phone rings, the muse calls, and my best intentions fly off into the winds. I’ll try to get better at that.

After all, we are a community of world storytellers, are we not? Mystics in the making, perhaps. Poets abounding. Weaving new visions and thoughts that, yes, could quite possibly change our world for the better. And we all matter.

So here’s to you – all of you  – may every day in your life flourish with harmony, balance, and love. May you weave the most scrumptious tales ever, whether they be in word, image, or sound! And may they dance in our world like magic calling us home.

I hope you’ll hang around. If it feels right, send a comment note or an email (I will answer those) and tell me what you’re doing to help this world be a kinder happier place.

And again – THANK YOU!

Aliana

A wee reminder …

         For those of you who may be interested – there are still some Templates from The Garden series looking for a home and keeper (new ones still to come) – and – there is client space available for session work with me starting the beginning of September.

         If you want to know more – take a peek at the template images – chat about coming on board session-wise, send an email my way (aliana at 22shangrila.com) and I’ll get back to you.

        Wishing you much joy.

Create a well…

                                                                          ©Aliana Alani 2015

Create a well of love in your life

And invite the world to drink from it.

If it is from the Eternal,

It will never run dry.

This I know…

THIS I KNOW…  

©Aliana Alani 2015

As we search for wings we once had,
Trudging along dust-filled roads,
Hoping for rose petals in unlikely places,

As we scan pristine skies for long-needed rain,
Picking the bones of ancestors,
Sweeping the streets clean of the tears of hunger and war,

As we dare to dream or desire,
To rise up or to care,

It comes to this –

There is only room for love now.
We only have room for love.