mycosmicbackyard

[mycosmicbackyard]

«That’s just life. Sometimes, you can’t help but sneeze with the coffee cup in your hand, and then it’s all about managing the next couple of seconds the best way you can.»

[mycosmicbackyard]

The Poet at a loss of words

Sound of parched paper

in my hands

I’m the Poet

yet, never do I.

Why not?

Listen;

to the sounds of waves

inside my being

motions moving

emotions

inside this place

that I carry

but never do I …

why not?

Life

breathes stories into my lungs

like waves, you are arriving:

leaving

each time the more profound

each time I am able

to breathe deeper

The olde stories

knock on my door

-knock-

his hands are shaking

-knock-

he’s trembling, -knock-

“I’m broken inside.”

his eyes are telling stories

mine are too, but

-knock-

I’m terrified.

“I was, too.”

I see his wander, I

know

he will find his light.

Will … I?

Yes. Yes, I will. I do, it’s just …

he sees me …

and for each layer

I let go, it

hurts.

The old stories

they

-knock-knock-knock-

but I

breathe

one day at a time

perhaps I will

handle

closeness one day.

Maybe the knocks will

end

at least he is beautiful

like a ray of light

and he is a gift

I am … receiving.

And while he

rests his forehead

against mine

closes his eyes

I do too

I breathe.

The Poet.

At a loss of words.

Why did I …

never carry a pen?

[mycosmicbackyard]

This is a fucking wake up call. Thank you ✨💖🙏

the thing about art is that it was always supposed to be about us, about the human-ness of us, the impossible and beautiful reality that we (for centuries) have stood still, transfixed by music. that we can close our eyes and cry about the same book passage; the events of which aren't real and never happened. theatre in shakespeare's time was as real as it is now; we all laugh at the same cue (pursued by bear), separated hundreds of years apart.

three years ago my housemates were jamming outdoors, just messing around with their instruments, mostly just making noise. our neighbors - shy, cautious, a little sheepish - sat down and started playing. i don't really know how it happened; i was somehow in charge of dancing, barefoot and laughing - but i looked up, and our yard was full of people. kids stacked on the shoulders of parents. old couples holding hands. someone had brought sidewalk chalk; our front walk became a riot of color. someone ran in with a flute and played the most astounding solo i've ever heard in my life, upright and wiggling, skipping as she did so. she only paused because the violin player was kicking his heels up and she was laughing too hard to continue.

two weeks ago my friend and i met in the basement of her apartment complex so she could work out a piece of choreography. we have a language barrier - i'm not as good at ASL as i'd like to be (i'm still learning!) so we communicate mostly through the notes app and this strange secret language of dancers - we have the same movement vocabulary. the two of us cracking jokes at each other, giggling. there were kids in the basement too, who had been playing soccer until we took up the far corner of the room. one by one they made their slow way over like feral cats - they laid down, belly-flat against the floor, just watching. my friend and i were not in tutus - we were in slouchy shirts and leggings and socks. nothing fancy. but when i asked the kids would you like to dance too? they were immediately on their feet and spinning. i love when people dance with abandon, the wild and leggy fervor of childhood. i think it is gorgeous.

their adults showed up eventually, and a few of them said hey, let's not bother the nice ladies. but they weren't bothering us, they were just having fun - so. a few of the adults started dancing awkwardly along, and then most of the adults. someone brought down a better sound system. someone opened a watermelon and started handing out slices. it was 8 PM on a tuesday and nothing about that day was particularly special; we might as well party.

one time i hosted a free "paint along party" and about 20 adults worked quietly while i taught them how to paint nessie. one time i taught community dance classes and so many people showed up we had to move the whole thing outside. we used chairs and coatracks to balance. one time i showed up to a random band playing in a random location, and the whole thing got packed so quickly we had to open every door and window in the place.

i don't think i can tell you how much people want to be making art and engaging with art. they want to, desperately. so many people would be stunning artists, but they are lied to and told from a very young age that art only matters if it is planned, purposeful, beautiful. that if you have an idea, you need to be able to express it perfectly. this is not true. you don't get only 1 chance to communicate. you can spend a lifetime trying to display exactly 1 thing you can never quite language. you can just express the "!!??!!!"-ing-ness of being alive; that is something none of us really have a full grasp on creating. and even when we can't make what we want - god, it feels fucking good to try. and even just enjoying other artists - art inherently rewards the act of participating.

i wasn't raised wealthy. whenever i make a post about art, someone inevitably says something along the lines of well some of us aren't that lucky. i am not lucky; i am dedicated. i have a chronic condition, my hands are constantly in pain. i am not neurotypical, nor was i raised safe. i worked 5-7 jobs while some of these memories happened. i chose art because it mattered to me more than anything on this fucking planet - i would work 80 hours a week just so i could afford to write in 3 of them.

and i am still telling you - if you are called to make art, you are called to the part of you that is human. you do not have to be good at it. you do not have to have enormous amounts of privilege. you can just... give yourself permission. you can just say i'm going to make something now and then - go out and make it. raquel it won't be good though that is okay, i don't make good things every time either. besides. who decides what good even is?

you weren't called to make something because you wanted it to be good, you were called to make something because it is a basic instinct. you were taught to judge its worth and over-value perfection. you are doing something impossible. a god's ability: from nothing springs creation.

a few months ago i found a piece of sidewalk chalk and started drawing. within an hour i had somehow collected a small classroom of young children. their adults often brought their own chalk. i looked up and about fifteen families had joined me from around the block. we drew scrangly unicorns and messed up flowers and one girl asked me to draw charizard. i am not good at drawing. i basically drew an orb with wings. you would have thought i drew her the mona lisa. she dragged her mother over and pointed and said look! look what she drew for me and, in the moment, i admit i flinched (sorry, i don't -). but the mother just grinned at me. he's beautiful. and then she sat down and started drawing.

someone took a picture of it. it was in the local newspaper. the summary underneath said joyful and spontaneous artwork from local artists springs up in public gallery. in the picture, a little girl covered in chalk dust has her head thrown back, delighted. laughing.

[mycosmicbackyard]

I will be fishing stars

I will be fishing stars and the moon will weep in my place Singing Odes to lost heavens of all that has traveled beyond my reach; my fingers slip and I will preach lost lies that are eternal; yes, I am forever searching for an illusion

and I just cannot let go so I will humbly give in and ask the heavens to bless my faults and soften my bruises;

I see only clouds although I fish for stars in the universal bowl of stars

I will be fishing stars 23.07.22

[mycosmicbackyard]

«Dearest One,

It has always, only been about this one thing: being of service. When you are, you do not need to be afraid: for these words are a gift. Be of Service, and the whole Universe will open itself up to you. You will feel the natural flow of things, as it should be. And so mote it be. The Universe is your employer. You are a valuable worker of its force. Use your powers, for praise, for bringing the Light to all of the corners. To all of them.”

[mycosmicbackyard]

When you’re filled with darkness

when sorrow consumes you;

You’re not alone.

When you beg for healing

but do not dare to open up;

You’re not alone.

When you want to succumb

to the greatest darkness within;

You’re not alone.

When you feel like shutting down

for you see no other option;

You’re not alone.

When you feel like

the worst person in the world;

You’re not alone.

When you’re so tired

but do not find any rest

You’re not alone.

When you try

but cannot forgive yourself;

You’re not alone.

Everything is going to be ok.

It’s going to get better.

I promise.

Just breathe.

Breathe.

[mycosmicbackyard]

Sacred Lessons of the Golden Desert

In glimmers, and songs, this taste of light metal the sparkling smell, the odour of age the shimmering truth, inspirational ether centra; a jewelry-filled, magical cage

In melodies' Neptune, the fork is still resting, and dances of diamonds make up for a show, if you will untangle these mysteries' nesting The Phoenix will rise and will fly where you go

Now listen to riddles which you will be given, and do not fall in to temptational song, the mermaids are very much eagerly driven of getting you off track, too far and too long

While stairs are of desert sand flowing you deeper your mouth will feel thirsty for heavenly air, and if you are worth it, yes, if you're a keeper this travel through deeps will feel safe and fair

Now, dance with the diamonds! See tapestry glimmer! you both will make up new interior design, these walls and art decor reflects your most inner, this part that is sacret and deeply divine

And suddenly gems of all colors are humming the melody of your own inner design and while your heart's bumping and dancing and drumming, you now feel this voice that is all most sublime

The glimmering cage is your heart’s sacred aura a Wisdom you've searched for through ages of care; its walls have been carved with all sorts of old flora, its jewels - your chakras of magical air

Now - dance to your rhythm! Be true to your story! no, nothing of truth can be held with a lie, for sure you will stumble, not all will be glory, the crucial was that you got up - and tried.

✨ Inspired by my list: ✨🌌Poem’s The Cosmic Poet would want to write in 2024🌌✨ Draft name: 🌹Golden Treasure in the desert

[mycosmicbackyard]

Cerulean crullers, served hot glimmering drinks of pink saccharin pastries of flavour dipped in creme almost ratiné with little threads of splendor sailing out from its steam

🌹Alien Pastry served with glittery drinks✨ (from my cosmic poetry list of 2024💫)

[mycosmicbackyard]

The Gallery✨

A cluster of quadrant paintings glimmering silent songs Bricks of velvet moons triangulate the torus of subtle tinkling Campanula Purple spheres dance of brilliant stories Dusk of warmth brings brittle subtleness to unseen horizons Evolution sings its ever growing, eternal songs.

🌹A gallery with nebulae paintings on the walls

(An ABC-poem from my cosmic poetry list of 2024💫)

[mycosmicbackyard]

The Gallery✨

A cluster of quadrant paintings glimmering silent songs Bricks of velvet moons triangulate the torus of subtle tinkling Campanula Purple spheres dance of brilliant stories Dusk of warmth brings brittle subtleness to unseen horizons Evolution sings its ever growing, eternal songs.

🌹A gallery with nebulae paintings on the walls

(An ABC-poem from my cosmic poetry list of 2024💫)

[mycosmicbackyard]

Cerulean crullers, served hot glimmering drinks of pink saccharin pastries of flavour dipped in creme almost ratiné with little threads of splendor sailing out from its steam

🌹Alien Pastry served with glittery drinks✨ (from my cosmic poetry list of 2024💫)

[mycosmicbackyard]

Blue and purple glittery corals noble scents sensed by merguards sheperding the borders of Crystallic Wave Kingdom sweet flax flower blue dancing with auricula purple intentions of gleaming dreams into the kingdom’s future

🌹Blue and purple glittery Corals (from my cosmic poetry list of 2024💫)

[mycosmicbackyard]

My goodness guys ... next year it will be ten years since you reblogged my very first poem here ... you have been here since then...! I never realized it's been so much time - time has kind of not exsisted here, and yet, here you are, you are STILL here, after so many years!! I'm so grateful, you have done so incredibly much. Thank you. Thank you so much <3 @writerscreed

My first one… Can’t wait to explore more possibilities!!

[mycosmicbackyard]

|| storm warning ||

[mycosmicbackyard]

"So I have done good, then."

"Indeed, you have. Every time you stand up for yourself. Every time you stay with yourself. Every time you listen to yourself. Every time you talk beautifully vowen words to yourself, words from the heart ... you do good. That is when you do the most."

I stop to contemplate that. For a while. I study the star clusters, the nebulae and the several moons and planets surrounding this place.

The old man smiles to the little boy, who grins back.

"Yes. All is as it should be."

[mycosmicbackyard]

I am fascinated. Truly. All feels safe again. For now. Until the wheel turns, and I again need to be there for myself.

As life's meaning leans upon!

I have been looking at the stars all this time, and I have forgotten the little boy, still sitting under that tree. I feel guilty.

"Why is that so?" the old man asks.

"I should have remembered him somehow, more than like a second. I have been focusing on you. And on myself ..."

"Don't you think that is the point? Do you think he is here so that you shall see him? No. In this instance, he is watching you ... every single step and thought that you create."

I look at the boy, who looks at me with clear, blue eyes.

"Why is that so?"

"Because he is one of the aspects of your inner child. You have many. This one likes to be here, and to talk to me. And one of his favorite activities is observing you - waking up."

The boy smiles big.

[mycosmicbackyard]

"So with that insight, you have the tools to know even more of yourself. To love thyself even deeper. Thus you wil become more free than you are today."

"Like a never ending spiral?"

"Excactly. You have the right to choose every moment of your awakened life. You have the gift of free choice."

"I ... am afraid of being ... forgotten in a vast amount of likes because they like ... some parts of me, but not all?"

"Do you ever show your whole self, though?"

"No. That is private."

"Excactly. It is."