shaman of smile

love – creating it, being it, knowing it, sharing it

Category: love

Try this:

Imagine a Care Bear dipped in white phosphorus

Trick-riding tip-toe on a Hindu rhinoceros,

who rolls like a stone and collects rainbow mind-floss,

who shoots down sad-frown thoughts like a Tee-Hee-Free-Shine Boss.

A junkie for eyeballs that squeeze shut upon greeting

pushed up the smile invoked by the meeting

(The meeting, agreed to be delayed and fleeting),

Prelude to the under-hug drum of hearts beating*

*the sound that reminds me

on up- down- and in- sides, he

is part me, but she, and so 

perfectly we, see:

She: twists light like a shaman,

His senses: uncommon.

Our joy: drips quick flips, instant, like ramen

instant and sudden: reverse, stop, then flourish.

Meander morphs easily,

Sprint threatens skirmish,

Then spicy sweet heat dissipates to a nourish.

THIS is the marvel: the meander and stay

while at night we conspire with past stars to create

the next play.

The scramble stretch dance,

the pray sway play scrape

Til we find that we’ve grooved our self  right through a gate.

(Insert blissed-out AMEN here).



My ankles are weak but my feet are sturdy

My bellybutton’s deep but never dirty

I type so fast set fire to a QWERTY

Here’s my point (I’ll prolly get wordy):

Heaven’s door was recessed.not so good was my best.It took money and honey to make me feel blessed.

There were injuries, absurdities, addictions and rushes.Cancerous deleterious hallucinations and crutches.

Then my feet slipped.all reality flipped.The good was now bad and my white cloak had ripped.

So I wiped clean my up on my toes.Leaped off the cliff and fell into the flow.

Beliefs cast in steel, and long-looks and deals, crumbled like cavities.Unsteady.Unreal.

I saw life as a habit, just like huntin’ wabbits.Desperate obsessions that manifest bad bits.

My face was erased.and all I could taste was bloody and urgent.My comfort: effaced.

Coughed up my insides on seashells at low tide.Made love to the moon and gave birth to a pearl scythe.

(A scythe is a tool used by a fool to awkwardly reap what she knows to be true)

SO by my estimation my heart-glow’s inflation is all I will trust as real information.


(I trust my generous awakened honest creative loving heart)

Om. Peace. Amen.

I like the way…

I like the way my young boy stutters.

I love the     drawn     out      words     he utters.

He forces me to stop. and. listen.

to put down trivial things I’m doin’.

The most important thing I do all day

is really hear what he has to say.

‘Cuz my boy’s so far surpassed

This black n’white grey-scale grey matter cast

that I’ve for so long called my brain.

His dreams fall on my ears like rain.

And, like rain, the drama’s at the start

when the black clouds gather and the floodgates part.

So, too, my boy commands attention

commencing sentences with pure intention.

His intention’s strong enough to cause

his lips and tongue to seem, well, flawed

(to others, maybe, not to me-

my boy’s talking sets ME free).

But if I could see in front of me

the creations of my world of sleep

I don’t think I’d care if I pronounced

exactly correctly the magic I announced.

My rhyme

I’m the: Shaman of Smile  Shine love beams for miles  Share free flowing peace As wide as the Nile

Call me: Stella du nord A bliss warrior Honest intentions Clean soul are my sword

My life: Manifests gifts My energy shifts To the sun or the friend That lights up my spliff

I’ve got: Trees from my friends A rose colored lens Strong as song circle No beginning or ends

My eyes: Open and green Tears clearing debris Heart chakra portals Love flows into me

selfish turned giving . judging’s not living . we all do our best . love is the real thing