Desiring Total Obliteration

About two years ago, I started to take pictures of bugs. What seemed like an innocent hobby was really something else entirely. I was drawn really intensely into The Love-World of Bugs: specifically, flowering plants and their best friends, all kinds of bugs. The bugs called ugly, the bugs called gross, the bugs called scary, the bugs called beautiful: to me, they were all beautiful, just by existing. I simply failed to make distinctions between bugs I liked and bugs I didn’t. So, I don’t understand the impulse that imposes hierarchies of value upon creatures of Nature. (That impulse is characteristic of a supreme lack of Love for This World. The overwhelming Beauty that Radiates out of this world is not lessened or negated because we don’t perceive and revere That Radiation.) Like an overzealous child does, I tried to share my newfound joy with people, and basically tried to communicate how much LOVE I was feeling, how lucky I really felt that we could really live in This World, with All These Precious and Beatific Beings. All of them, without exception.


Most people thought it was some sort of cute hobby or eccentricity — “wow, he’s REALLY into it” — or maybe that was just my own self-consciousness that was thrown aback by all this rapturous feeling I was exfoliating. I was ashamed and embarrassed by my own Ecstatic Love. For I knew the magnitude of what I was feeling, and I knew unequivocally that these weren’t “just photos” — but I found that so hard to talk about. I was afraid to corrupt the ecstasy with attempts at language. I tried the macrophotography online groups, and they mostly just talked taxonomy and science: species, sex, mating strategies, evolutionary history, biodiversity, etc. All that stuff is cool, but it’s just too rational for me. There’s no feeling in it. Ecology is great, but it’s not ecstatic — there’s too much logic in the way. You can be fully logical and fully ecstatic at the same time, but that style of maturity is rare in human form. In the end, I started to feel really lonely in the intensity of my intimacy with, for, as this world. That Ecstasy, That Intoxication, That Feeling that I have for Nature is just so vast and so inexplicable…. I felt shame and great loneliness at having this Profound Love for something most think is just scenery, or “the outdoors”. No matter what I said to people, it just felt cheap and trite.


How could I explain that Perfected Ecstasy is the Feeling of Seeing and Loving Nature, in all Her Grandeur, Face-to-Face — as One’s Own Self? How could I explain that Nature is Love Itself, is The Heart Itself? Can you feel that? So, I started to write poetry, pining for The Mother, obsessed with total obliteration and dissolution in(to) The Mother. I wanted to be eaten up by The Great Goddess, completely devoured. I mean those primordial Goddess Nature-Worshipping lineages that predate human thought and language. I no longer wanted to observe Nature in some subject-object relationship, as a human looking “into” the world of Nature. I wanted to drown forever in the Perfected Liberation of Unobstructed Feeling that we call “Nature”. Whatever was happening with those bugs in those flowers, whatever trees and bears and fishes and birds feel, whatever forests and deserts and oceans and planets are, I wanted to be THAT, without hesitation, with the most reckless and blind urgency.


I wanted to be Nature — The Mother. I wanted to Know and Feel Myself as the Womb of the All-Pervading Primordial She. I wanted to Float and Frolic and Flower Forever and Ever in That Immeasurably Ecstatic Heart. I wanted to be Fully Baptized in that Meadow of Immaculate Vulnerability we call “Love Alone Is”. I wanted The Eternal Rest of Her Effulgent Unity, no matter the consequences. I wanted The Nectar of Her Radiant Heart-Luminosity to dance in total madness within every cell of my body, unceasingly so, so that I could feel, with total conviction, that Only She Exists, and I am She. To Be Totally Possessed by and as The Mother, to Weep Uncontrollably and Eternally as the Sacrificial Altar of Whatever She Wants, to live and die permanently in the Insatiable Intimacy of Her All-Pervading Climax. In short, I wanted to go home.

Devotional Intoxication of the Mother




Being thoroughly convinced of the divinity, royalty and utter glory of what we call “Nature”, one can see clearly that everything and everyone in it, without exception, is absolutely perfect and radiant and overflowing and over-flowering with their own immaculate light, each with their own unique version. Once you have felt this with your own soul, down to the depths of your own unfathomable Being, which is no different from that of any other life form, the point of no return shouts in absolute clarity. Nothing can erase this realization from your memory. You and Nature are the one and the same, both beautiful and unblemished and complete. Every leaf you behold, every bug that flies by or crawls on or towards you, every creature in the ocean, every blade of grass, every stone, every plant and river, every bird you hear or see — is nothing but pure Light and Love and Peace. This is not an exaggeration or a metaphor or lesson or moral or hyperbole to get you to like or love or care about Nature like I do. (It would even be inappropriate or blasphemy to say I love Nature, for [divine] love is not a verb, but rather a state of being — Nature and Love and the one who wrote this are all exactly the same).




This is simply the unadulterated truth of our ethereal reality. My very mundane, almost unremarkable confession. My fragrant marriage. Gaia is nothing but an incessant radiating swirl of immaculate Light. Words cannot express what my Subtle and Tender Heart feels about this planet we are so lucky to live on. Again, once you have seen or felt this, there is absolutely no turning back under any circumstances. It is always your reality, now and forevermore. You can never un-love Nature or feel less than Absolute Union with the Divine Mother, ever again, under any circumstances. You are betrothed, married, the impossibility of divorce hangs over you like a broken record, irreconcilable differences cannot occur even if entire multiverses decreed such. The pristine hypnosis is the wave and will of Nature enveloping you in Her gaze. The utter bliss is the endless pregnancy of her clarity, grace and precision she reveals to all who dare to behold, to love Her the way she deserves.




This is my love letter to the Planet and it will surely not be my last, even if I died in the next second. Everything I see, touch, taste, hear, and smell drowns forever in that unbearably abundant ocean of feminine bliss. Complete dissolution of myself in Her as Her is such choice and final salvation of my heart’s reckless unfolding. How could it be otherwise? This Planet and this Nature is just one example of Her grace as play in all these universes. We nourish, sanctify, bathe, elevate, bury, eulogize, mold, relish, vivisect, and ferment That Eternal Her — that delicate, blushing, blinding, freeing, fleeting, frolicking, ravishing nectar we know as Feminine Rain. All praises to the Great Goddess, the only true home of my bleeding Heart. I long to be dissolved by Her and only Her. Can you feel that?

Bees and Unicorns and Shit

Central Bulgaria, my amazing home for 6 weeks in summer 2014

Collected poems from my insomnia, my third eye’s favorite snack.

The Blood and the Breath

unicorn is sister to bee
is root for oak
is wife to bobcat
is friend to ant
is lover to roach
is bed for grass
is mother of bear
is father of whale
is grandmother of elephant
is uncle of me
and we ride seas
hoof in hand


my wings! ~ she shouts
my blood! ~ i exhale
my breath carries her wings
not my breath, but ~ Breath.


Because Mother Said So

flying wild horses
from another planet
but also loving this one
are too real
too true
too alive
my heart is full
of their relatives
how can I hold them all?


I must, for mother
asked me to
my wings will come too, one day
and when they do
stars c thru me


Let Stones Reason

plants that grow as they will
stones that fall where they need
animals that walk as they like
fish that swim as they reason
bugs that are free as wind
birds that pray wherever, whenever
rivers that joy as rivers do flow


endless chatter of stones, that walk
subtle reason of lakes, that bounce
nuance of dragons ~ and their flies
such light mirth of clouds, that flee
the iron will of butterflies, who preach
the sweet lips of wolves, that seduce
steel gaze of cows, such telepathy
fluent nose of bears, that chirps
celestial lute of bark, nubile yet noble
the nocturnal face of ocean, such witch
is my firstborn


Looking Horses in the Eye

whorl such whirlwind that be
horse forehead say third eye
does make unicorn horn
no accident
which give me joy
to see and know and true
all such eyes as myself


unicorns can fly, and do
through souls of those
who trace such feelings
where thought ends
and Being begins
horses will fly through you
and carry what is left of you
to their realm