True Love or True Hell (Love vs Sex 258)

There is nothing, absolutely nothing in my life and existence that I would not happily sacrifice or forfeit to engage in a relationship of true love; that’s true love and not the watered down, wimpy, lip service version of something much less marketed as something supremely and gracefully greater. And it wouldn’t be enough if it were just me in true love with whomever while they still piddled around in fear or egocentric delusion or some stagnant glitch of the soul. But if I could find a person to love me true as I loved them true, nothing would take precedence or priority over that love, that bond, that union. And I am utterly confounded to see most, if not almost all others, who willingly sacrifice the potential for love to damn near any and every thing; a job, a distance, a hobby, “friends”, money, and the supposed wellbeing of children. I cannot fathom how a relationship of true love would not be the most important behavior or lesson for a child to observe and learn from. What lesson, what dynamic, what principle, could be of greater relevance and impact upon a child? I cannot fathom how so much materialistic and superficial shit has become socially dubbed and prioritized by the herd as being the much greater signifier of personal growth and the key to individual peace and happiness, than obtaining the enlightenment of love and enacting a union of upper transcendence through that love. I don’t know if it’s fear, selfishness, baseness, or just confusingly conforming indoctrination, but I do know that for me the quality of my existence is intimately related to my focus upon my chosen path and priorities. Is there any priority other than genuine and profound love that could impact more positively upon a person’s and/or a family’s quality of life? The answer is an absolute and resounding no. And yet for most people, while they spew sweet sentiments about love and it’s path less travelled, their actions hop, skip, and jump with a delusional zippity-do-da down the more travelled path of actionable anti-love and distractive complacency. They want to be able to claim the Weight and the Light of the world in their words without actually having to commit to lifting anything or opening their eyes long enough to look into that Light until the truth cannot be unseen. This cognitive dissonance, this deadly sin, can never sow love, but it does reap a world that instead operates on apathy at its best and fear at its worst. That world sounds like Hell to me.

Cribb          2018

Enablers of The Fifth Element (Love vs Sex 257)

Rainbow Bright: Sometimes I wonder if I want too much from love. Or more specifically, too much from someone else. I’m in my forties; maybe I’m immature or naive in that way. Maybe it’s time to accept a caring partnership with someone who would recognize my existence on just a basic level – enough chemistry for attraction and enough of the right interests in common to keep things enjoyably enough anesthetized. I’ve heard it said that one of the main reasons we choose to partner is just so that our lives are simply noticed by another. Maybe, that’s all we need.

There is however, this ferocious part of me, albeit idealistic, that yells and screams at the top of my lungs “Hell No!” So much of life has to be lived between those damned lines, why must I compromise here, why??!!? I want to feel consumed by a man who is absolutely expanded by me. I want our own little metaphoric boat or island where it is all ours, us together, strengthening one another, standing in union against the rest of the madness. I’m not just talking about the lusts of a new relationship, the simple transitory thrills of a honeymoon phase. I want the peace of a deep emotional bond and connection, but I want it to glow red hot. Maybe that’s not love, maybe it’s something different.

Do you ever wonder if you just need to settle?

The Introverted Lion: Poetic, Inspiring, broadly perceptive, and just damn unbelievably beautiful.

Rainbow Bright: No. It’s pissed off. It’s self centered. It’s arrogant. Doesn’t anyone feel like this? How is settling for someone any less than someone settling for me? Screw that. Maybe that’s the issue, the angst, the fight that I feel I can’t let go of, that I can’t relinquish. Is it my age that seems to be pushing me more towards tolerance of the minimum, towards the least that will do for me to be able to hold my breath and just get by like everyone else does? But isn’t it supposed to be the other way around as we get older, as we grow and learn and supposedly mature in our own enlightenment? How is it I want more, while everyone else seems to prefer less? Do I just want to go out with a bang instead of a sigh? Sounds arrogant. I don’t think these are feelings of desperation. There are a few “nice enough” guys out there, but meh. What the actual hell??? Damnit, I should not have started talking to you.

Sometimes it is better to consume than question.

The Introverted Lion: I understand. Thought about all of that myself, once or twice. Sounds good, but it is an end to madness for you, me, and everyone else. Most suppress it better than we would, but it’s always fucking there, always. They just package it up in some other “description” or “disorder” or keep themselves sedated with some form of analgesic addiction or delusion. If you settled, we would never have crossed paths. We are in the same tribe. We are of the same energy and connecting with you has intensified my passion and love and hope for being with someone “like you” while experiencing the rest of existence. You have already increased the love in my heart. You have already bestowed upon me the titillating, yearning, and vibrant force of what you say might possibly only occur in dreams of unreal expectation. It is the condensed essence of life and union of what you speak. It is the undying flame of transcendence which continuously sparks our energy to connect, crackle, and create, all of the beauty and grace in the world that we are capable of.

You are an angel and you are an enabler of the Fifth Element.

The Introverted Lion and Rainbow Bright

2018

I Think of You Laughing (Love vs Sex 256)

I think of you laughing

like a carefree giddy little girl,

amazed and awestruck

by the wonderful, intricate, and bewildering complexities of the world,

all the while relaxed in such untamed and unworried behavior

because you know

deep down in your heart that you aren’t alone,

not truly alone anymore,

in your thoughts, perceptions, and priorities.

Because, you know a man, a real man,

who is not an imposter, a bully, or a charlatan,

who cares for you and appreciates you as he should;

who has your back like no other ever has or ever will.

You know how much he wants to see you shine and dance and trust and love with complete abandon.

You just know,

he could never tolerate himself letting you down or disappointing you by failing to be the man you deserve and that you need to believe in.

It is a dreamy thought

that seems as though it might easily become a romantic reality

if only certain souls might stumble upon one another

and in doing so,

choose to believe

in

exquisite possibilities.

Cribb          2018

These Real Women, These Real Angels (Warrior Poet Mental Yoga 249)

Praise be to all of existence

for the sexy, intelligent, aware, passionate, and empathic women that I have been honored to meet lately.

Their beauty is outstanding and damn near breathtaking to me every moment I lay eyes upon them.

They are angels blazing in the glory of graceful creation

and the weak minded materialistic women of such little empathy,

and such off kilter priorities in the breath they breathe and share with all others,

are not worthy of even standing in the shadows of these real women,

these real angels.

Sometimes,

it’s so easy to forget that they are out there also trying to survive in all of the madness,

enveloped and hedged in unceasingly by the greater herd of zombie females,

and also hunted persistently, yet in some half-hearted lingering tortuous nightmare attempt by the “love” of the prevailing zombie horde of males,

but I have always dreamed of them,

always known they had to be real,

like the sun and the moon,

and the wind and the rain,

your own heartbeat beating through your chest,

your own tears streaming down your face,

your own breath caught and then released,

and your own uncontrollable laughter and joy that possesses all of you until you believe you might spontaneously combust into nothing but tickling flames to be spread across the rest of the universe forever and ever.

I love them.

I love them all beyond words.

I have always loved them and I always will.

And that is the way it is meant to be.

It is the undeniable beauty of natural order,

not broken or numbed or cut the fuck out of a once gorgeous soul.

These angels,

these exquisite women,

symbolize to me more than anything else that I might imagine,

the capability of attainment of astounding beauty and profound love

that exists in the choice of free will alongside

the similar capability of those others

who choose to squander, insult, and defile their free will,

and the very nature of all of existence itself.

Cribb          2018

So It Doesn’t (Warrior Poet Mental Yoga 242)

I don’t believe that there has ever been a lack of genuine love in the universe. I think it has always been there since the moment of creation and perhaps it was even the primordial or originating flame that climbed out of darkness to produce that fulminating event. What I do see are the overwhelming number of souls everywhere suffering in isolating fear. Instead of turning to the light, they turn much more often and much more readily to the dark, defaulting to an existence based on overcontrolling and over-dominating all else within their sphere of influence. These confused souls obsess on their destructive orientation even as they vehemently deny such intentions and instead adamantly proclaim that their motivations are harbingers of unifying love. The majority of humanity spends its time not on the contemplation, fostering, and actualization of genuine love enacted, but on denying, sabotaging, corrupting, bastardizing, and defiling this inherent energy of union, grace, and peaceful bliss, which is just too simple, too pure and vulnerable, too calm and quiet, to otherwise ignore.

Humanity is too scared to listen, so it screams and shrieks instead. Humanity is too scared to be kind and gentle and peaceful, so it wars and kills and rapes and pillages in the name of justice and freedom for all. Humanity is too scared to be stable and uplifting with unconditional respect for everyone, so it becomes a fear mongering leviathan, eating itself and branding all in destabilizing doubt, confusing uncertainty, and paralyzing paranoia. Humanity is too scared to make love with one another, so it either fucks its fellow beings instead or chooses to simply fuck itself in a perverse anti-union effort of celebratory climax. Humanity is too scared to live, so it eviscerates life, cuts everything vivacious, organic, and perceptively aware, out of our collective and individual existences.

Humanity is too scared to love,

so it doesn’t.

Cribb          2018

The Killing of Comet Trails by the Phone World Filter Clan (Warrior Poet Mental Yoga 241)

A lady and her young daughter walk into the restaurant. They walk up and sit at the sushi bar. The parent has a faint aura of pretentiousness and lack of concern regarding any external perception about her. The child is relaxed and smiling, with sparkling energy flowing constantly in, out, and around her essence, like tiny comet trails of excited stardust. Her vibrant posture possesses no discount or disrespect for any of the world that swirls about herself and her comet trails.

They sit down. Mom immediately buries her head and all of her attention in her phone. The child, who seems to understand this mommy behavior as the norm, quietly refrains from intruding into mommy’s important activity. The little girl’s head remains up at all times and she keeps quietly observing the entire world of the restaurant. Is she looking around for something specific or just looking around to see if anyone else in the room actually notices her, actually sees her, I wonder?

After a few minutes, without any other engagement, mom pulls her phone out of the downward cradle of her hands, out of her own bubble of isolated existence, and points her phone world at her daughter. There isn’t really any verbalization or look of communication in the process, only a controlled pointing of a phone world filter at something organic, living, and breathing, which seems used to not be interacted with except in this given manner. The child doesn’t even turn or move for the first few snapped pictures. Then the photographer mom of the phone world filter clan apparently decides the pictures might be improved upon. Remaining as minimally interactive as is feasible, mom reaches up and moves the little girl’s flowing mane of curls slightly further towards the back of her head. Then, silent click, silent click, silent click. And maybe I’m imagining it, but now mom appears to feel like she has something to be happier about. . . a digital prisoner doppelgänger held perfectly in her own phone world filter of the alien organic-living-breathing entity that still sits right next to her, yet also apparently a million light years away.

The young girl eventually giggles and laughs at her photo session. Small meaningless words of empty banter bounce back and forth between the mouths of mother and daughter for a moment before both return to their previously adopted (or should I say adapted?) roles in their separate worlds of fictional crossover coexistence and union.

Their to-go-order eventually escapes the kitchen and is delivered unto them in a neat, nice, and immaculately folded paper bag. Mommy and daughter rise back up out of their seats as good as any strangers might do and then together, without words or gestures amongst themselves, stroll out of the restaurant so obviously happy in their unified familial bliss that I can barely stand it.

Cribb          2018

A Tempest of Simplicity (Love vs Sex 251)

I lost my heart

to a tempest of simplicity,

and once I was caught

beyond my will and desire

to escape such an odd manifestational paradox,

I realized that there was no tempest before me,

but only the vivacious rippling and vibrational energy

of contact, melding, and attempted integration

of two existences

which are so oft

catastrophically cleaved from one another;

between a soul of heaven and a world of unknowing flesh;

between crucifixion by the many, knowingly or not,

for the grace shown and proffered by the one;

between an attempted revival enacted by empathy and faith upon apathy and despair;

between the primordial forces of chaotic entropy and the stable orchestrations of synergistic and harmonious union.

It wasn’t a tempest at all

but the orbiting gates of heaven spinning, swirling, and dancing upon the earth.

And deeper

within that skin and those bones,

it was a fragment of heaven itself,

grace undulating incarnate.

An aspect of an essence, I now knew that I had always belonged to as well.

There was no fleeing from its path,

no attempted escape,

there needn’t be,

because there was no fear.

There was only a desire to join with it in a yin and yang of the most joyful appreciation imaginable;

to love it for the simple and pure sake of knowing that it also loved freely, respectfully, and without abandon, anything capable of such energy and attention.

My heart,

my soul,

my essence,

my appreciation and desire,

my compulsive joy and laughter,

had once again,

been simply called home to union with my tribe,

to the inclusive energy and bond of heaven’s blessing and it’s amazingly profound grace.

Cribb          2018