Month: March 2023

They are the O’Kneels

On By ©️K.T. 2025In betrayal, cuckquean, O’KneelsLeave a comment

1 ain’t dumb
+ 1 ain’t dumb
= 0 authentic lives

“seeking intellectual stimulation and companionship in Chicago”

a profile headline for a dating site, August 2008

and they’ve never pretended harder,
to be happier,
in their marriage,

than they are right now

“she ain’t dumb.” said, the Mr.

“he ain’t dumb.” said, the Mrs.

silently, renewing those practical vows,

but

2 “ain’t dumbs” will never add up to

1 authentic life

what their calculus hath joined together,

let no verdant, regent 𝕮𝖗𝖔𝖓𝖊 put asunder,

let us now re-pronounce them:

the O’Kneels

Continue reading “They are the O’Kneels” →

Remember thy Self to keep holy

On By ©️K.T. 2025In Crone, Crone Consciousness, Gnosis, Gnostic, Mary MagdaleneLeave a comment

“You was blind to Him as your footprints in the ashes, but He saw you.

Beneath every disguise; in every gesture false or true; every silent resentment – He saw you in those dark corners. He heard you. Oh my brothers, He heard those thoughts.

Now, I am here today to talk to you about reality. I’m here to tell you about what you already know.

This, all, — this, is not real. It is merely the limitation of our senses which are meager devices. Your angers, and your griefs and your separations, are a fevered hallucination, one suffered by us all, we prisoners of light and matter…

Our faces pressed to the bars, lookin’ out, lookin up, askin’ the question, beggin’ the question — “Are YOU there?” Would that we had ears to hear – because every moment, every now — is an answer; every beat of every heart, every second of every minute, every minute of every hour, every hour of every day — is an answer.

And the ANSWER is: “Yes. Yes. Yes.”

Your sorrows pin you to this place; they divide you from what your heart knows…

And we bandage our soft selves in hardness and anger.

You are a stranger to yourself, and yet He knows you… And when your hard heart made you like unto the stone and broke you from His Body — which is the stars and the wind between the stars — He knew you. He knew you – yet and forever. How could the Father forget His children; how could the world forget itself?

Doesn’t matter that the children do not understand what they are. Doesn’t matter that the world thinks that it’s many different things — rather than One – HIM. Doesn’t matter.

My sad and joyous, and frightened and courageous brothers and sisters,

I want you to close your eyes and let your chest swell as His lungs; I want you to feel His Portion in us – in each other.

Every single one of you, I want you to listen for that answer:

If ever your sorrow becomes such a burden that you forget yourself – forget this world, I want you to remember this truth, this is as indelible as the sun in the sky and the ground beneath your feet:

This world is a veil, and the face you wear is not your own.

The shape of our true face is not YET known to us.

And so I press my eyes to the bars, and I look out, and I look up — and I ask the question, no! I BEG the question: Jesus Christ! Jesus Christ! – Your arms open and close, and the echoes of my life could never contain a single truth about You. You move the feather and ash, You touch the leaf with His flame, You linked Your soul to an Infinity of atomic creation, and of It – I am less than a drop in the ocean. How then can I know sorrow, how then, can I know despair? – Does the rain know sorrow, does the grass and the mountains, those beautiful mountains, know despair?

Such is not His Province, and so not be our purpose.

Be in Him, of Him, and then KNOW peace; that is His gift to us — our birthright.

In the End, we will find ourselves at the Beginning. We will at last KNOW ourselves; and our True Faces will weep in His Light – and those tears will feel like a warm rain.

Amen.”

Continue reading “Remember thy Self to keep holy” →

proof of life :

On By ©️K.T. 2025In Mother, Poem, poetryLeave a comment

she taught me to not like
myself/

especially, my image

— in photographs and in the moments themselves

ingraining a self-consciousness in me

and in the candidness of my real life

in

play
laughter
effort
surprise
exertion
contemplation
fatigue
wonder
sadness
silliness
conversation
worry
unmade

pose, poise, posture, profile, perfect,

control

and because perfection

is unattainable,

in the eye of the beholder and in the eye of the beheld

she was absent from the photos of our lives, and so also was i,

becoming onlooker, background, photographer,

instead of subject

and, so i learned

to make myself invisible

to become invisible

to accept invisibility

there are so many ways to be a thief, mother

self-portrait, proof of life,
Kahlo, an ideal of self-possession
Continue reading “proof of life :” →

limineen

On By ©️K.T. 2025In Alchemy, author, cosmos, Crone, Crone Consciousness, Derivate Works, exposition, Knowledge, Lexicon, liminal, liminality, limineen, liminine, threshold, velveteen, Word, WordsLeave a comment
the limineen
as imagined with
The Flammarion Engraving

Limineen : limin + een

noun: the time and space of the thresholds; attendance to or presence in, the in- betweens, the interregnum — of becoming and nonbecoming; of beingness and nothingness; of the material and ethereal; of sacredness and profanity; of love and hate; of calm and rage; of the authentic and the engineered; of inertia and energy.

limineen is both mood and State of this author, an Earthling, human, woman and entity, who finds her self present within and attendant to the thresholds of the corporeal, incorporeal and surreal.

from liminal / lim·i·nal
/ˈlimənəl/ adjective

  1. occupying a position at, or on both sides of, a boundary or threshold.
  2. relating to a transitional or initial stage of a process.
Continue reading “limineen” →

ravenous

On By ©️K.T. 2025In Poem, poetryLeave a comment

i subsist on this right now

chartreuse
red, purple, black
and gold

early, brave dandelions, low-key wonders

muscari, moss, catkins, i study in real-time-lapse — like it’s my last Spring / is it?

these black birds — red-winged, grackles, and starlings, their obsidian gloss and iridescence, who could look away

sandhill cranes, five years familiar, but i am still arrested with awe every single time

deer roam in forage for hours for tender emergent greens among last year’s corn stover/

chorus frogs and woodcocks at twilight, i heard them into the night, this had to be the first white noise for human beings

i watch for owls til there’s no more light, straining my eyes / willing them to feast on the moles that i can’t bear to kill /

no one’s here to call me in / no street lights/ and i forget to eat til i am

ravenous or ravishing/ my favorite and unforgettable malaprop

i am warmed, buoyed, sated with vernal sensuality

but the mud, my heart – and hips

remind me
that i am also

Continue reading “ravenous” →

Equinox Upon All Your Houses! | All, Praise Theia!

On By ©️K.T. 2025In Creation Story, Earth hospice, Earthling, earthlings, Equinox, planetary hospice, Sol, Solstice, spring, SunLeave a comment

Equinox upon all your houses!

and an Equinox and Solstice prayer:

All praise, Theia!

Thank you for life, the genesis of the path of our axial light;

in your violent, alchemical transformation,

you twice, gave us our light,

the cycle of seasons,

and the precession of the equinoxes in the northern and southern hemispheres of our life-giving Mother Earth,

your gifts are incomparable; an enduring aweing abundance.

All, praise, you Theia, for our Earth Mother Gaia and our Moon, Selene!

Vernal Equinox Evening, Chicago, 2017
Vernal Equinox Sun’s set, Michigan, 2023

derivative work based on Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet — Mercutio’s curse, as exclaimed to the Montague and Capulet families and their factions as he realizes he is mortally wounded by Tybald’s sword — he, collateral damage in the melee of their war of and for power — and against, love.

for the Earthling/environmental/political take on the equinox:

Continue reading “Equinox Upon All Your Houses! | All, Praise Theia!” →

4th sunday of lent : refreshment sunday

On By ©️K.T. 2025In Gnosis, Gnostic, Lent, QuoteLeave a comment

There is something we were never told, and this is that there is a tradition of no tradition.

A tradition of Wild Mystics or Wild Gnostics, that don’t fit into any theological or academic classification: A tradition of spiritual nomads that would not be shackled to any system or scripture; that would write their own myths and stories with the blood of their own experiences, which source can be found within their own entrails, within the marrow of their bones; within the dust of the grave, beyond what can be called experience, but that comes within their every breath.

These mystics recognize and borrow everything that speaks true to the reality of their bones without binding themselves to the rest of their traditions, but most of all, they speak with their own voice. Their voice cannot be classified or pegged to any known tradition.

tradition is violence

As soon as a scholar thinks he or she has found their source, another scholar finds that they were mistaken; for scholars, as St. John of the Cross said, argue long but never leave the ground.

Scholars speak of Gnosis and of dualism and try to explain Gnostic writings without ever having experienced gnosis, and therefore, gnosis remains unfamiliar to them and to their poor mislead readers.

Their arguments are filled only with words and a reasoning that can make a case, but that fails the source and has no substance. That is a tragedy, for they not only don’t know, they don’t even know what they don’t know, and that they don’t know.

— Tau +Rosamonde Ikshvàku Miller+,
Ecclesia Gnostica Mysteriorum, 2018
Continue reading “4th sunday of lent : refreshment sunday” →

clinician

On By ©️K.T. 2025In betrayal, Derivate Works, O’KneelsLeave a comment

she’ll never forget
how as her heart was breaking
he went to see a foreign film in the suburbs with his family
the next day, he proceeded to inform her about Korean film and
K-pop — like an old man who was just hearing about it for the first time in 2022,
like someone who never knew anyone and who traveled to Korea, for a semester abroad or to teach English, or anything, despite his worldliness and AAdvantages,
like someone who never heard
of BTS, their Map of The Soul,
or Carl Jung’s
it was then she realized how
ignorant and insular,
and Lechter-like he was

he collected things and ate people to feed his ego,

and she was a fucking feast

his heart rate never rose the whole time

Continue reading “clinician” →

siphon

On By ©️K.T. 2025In Capitalism, Poem, poetry, Politics, PovertyLeave a comment

drove past the new plasma store
they’re buying, not selling
do you need to know more?

old cars fill up the vast parking lots
that pristinely fresh concrete,
marred by oil and brake fluid spots

this is a tale-of-two-river-cities,
white kids don’t sell platelets here/
this is no college town
this place was known
for Black boys, kidnapped and drowned

this fucking joint, is it never empty/
how many times can they draw blood per person, per month/
is it just two times – or twenty?

Freedom Plasma: there’s still Black blood to be drained!
24-7 audacity and
not ONE DROP of shame

Continue reading “siphon” →

dear human, woman,

On By ©️K.T. 2025In limineen, moon, Poem, poetryLeave a comment

if you are acquainted with nearly every star in Orion and Canis Major in the Southern Night Sky from the Northern Hemisphere;

& Castor and Pollux have glimpsed you both in and out of your blue pyjamas;

& the Moon spotlights your face like you’re the star of the show, while asleep in bed, insisting you wake up and be both worshipped and worshipper

through your bedroom windows, overlooking a wet meadow, a red dirt road and then some trees,

from a ramshackle, old green house that effortlessly called you in, to hold you, and to hold you down

on this good Earth,

for a short while/

then, dear human, woman,

you are doing fine,
you are fine,
it’s all fine

nothing gold can stay
except your own aurum treasure of a heart

you, above all, know this

so, all you need do,
is keep

keep, keep, keep.

lying in bed, 4:59 AM EST, March 15, 2023
Continue reading “dear human, woman,” →

3rd sunday of lent

On By ©️K.T. 2025In Gnosis, Gnostic, Spiritive, Spirrative, transformationLeave a comment

We don’t decide to become Gnostics, but we discover that’s what we were all along. We don’t adhere to beliefs or views imposed from the outside, but our worldview comes from our inner experience. Sometimes that experience comes with the sound of cannons. Most of the time it happens quietly and gently but nevertheless is life altering, even though most external observers won’t notice the difference. We are un-made and remade from the inside out rather than from the outside in.

~ Tau +Rosamonde Ikshvàku Miller+,
Bishop, Ecclesia Gnostica Mysteriorum, 2013

Neologism: Amscape

On By ©️K.T. 2025In Neolexia, Neologism, poet, Quote, Word, WordsLeave a comment

Amscape : (noun) [ am-skāp ]
(am + scape)

The exclusively self-knowable inner landscape encompassing the psychic and pneumatic terrain of a person;

the complex of inner consciousness, metacognition, and intimate, private and transcendental experience that comprises the deep self of an individual; a human being’s interiority as distinguished from one’s outward persona, personality, biography or physical identity — and as distinct from the familial, professional, interpersonal, or social psychological evaluations, analyses, perceptions or stereotypes rendered, imposed or held by others.

Your amscape is the “you” that only you can explore, traverse and know.

This neologism is inspired in part by the late, Irish poet, philosopher and once-priest +John O’Donohue+ , who himself was inspired by the 13/14th century German mystic Meister Eckhart, speaking in his final appearance and in one of his last interviews ever, on On Being with Krista Tippet, before his untimely death in 2008. It is a compelling, life-affecting and -affirming conversation.

Continue reading “Neologism: Amscape” →