Laura Murphy - conscious creativity

Croc Musings 

toothy violence
your smiling weapons
creature of the soul's swamp
how surprised I was to learn you are also a helper spirit
carrying me, transforming me, killing parts of me that need to die
the death ritual skull rattles
laughing at and awakening me
I'm not so fearful, scary monster
you're my raft to unwavering safety within 
what grace I've been offered through you,
the condensation of your breath, the snapping of your jaws 
I am a twig amidst your wrath
humbled and grateful for being so low

Seen by the Essene 

hello Holy Body Temple 

hello golden light pillar rooting me to the core of the Earth, extending upward into the Cosmos 

hello precious Angels of Air, Light, Earth, Water, Life, Love, Peace, Wisdom, Healing 

hello surrender, prostration, kissing the ground you walk on 

hello independence and intimacy with you standing beside me, your silent hand on my shoulder reminding me I am never alone 

hello Tesla's Coil of electric spirals cracking and popping to the beat of Mother's Heart Drum in the wake of the Dark Night 

hello clouds of spaciousness between inhalation, exhalation, and annihilation...perpetual drunkenness baptized in the palpable holiness of the spaces in and me, you and me, nobody's baby, just you and me 

hello penetration of Light Photons tickling the backs of my eyelids, awakened by the One Who Never Sleeps 

hello guttural flutterings, leaves trembling, sweetness rippling, dominoes effecting 
hello streams of conscience sparkling, reflecting a desire map of stars singing me home to Kingdom Come  

hello Divine Presence in the Here And Now and faith in the ancient all that ever was and will be, which is a silky vortex I reverently nurture in my secret pocket of mystery 

hello Lovers and Travelers on the Paths of Righteousness, swimming the Seas of Eternal Return and Being 

hello Ancestral Family, you tender warriors floating timeless rivers of aging backward and dying forward  

goodbye delusion of separation; you are no longer my master...I do not serve you 

Tao of Dying

last night i dreamed i was haunted

today i woke up and died

without ambition


embedded in a perfect, simultaneous alchemy of all of my selves

i served the ultimate, supreme, creative forces flowing, which is my one and only

True responsibility

and now i know i shall never haunt myself again... 

tomorrow, if such exists, a celebration funeral're welcome to come if you like...

America Happens Here: Alchemy and Synergy of Real

Dawning at birth




Culminating, synergistic cooperation

Butterfly affect across the nation

Arise gentle wisdom

Turn our new Leaves of Grass

From seeds of compassion

Gestating and germinating

A peace enduring shall last

Alchemy, Hermes-Thoth, Rabindranath
Harmony in We

Curing collective Ennui and Plath

Universal a priori 
                                          On the stage of Montparnasse

The Maps We Drew
desert psychedelic blues celebration of vast liberation from sorrow
far-out above and beyond the beyond human folly and follicular obstacles of limited mammalian vision
primal rhizomatic wondering musing holistically
in solitude teachers educate our heart of hearts

expanding in unison tugging support strings balancing on galaxies
rooted inner worlds meaning absolute meaninglessness

quiet desperation to Live as we have feared to Live
for the vibrancy of color spectrums and crystallized continuums
blind believers into messy doers tripping on love

falling bowing woven whispering of fearless devotion
ruminating percolating reaching shaking grasping
dreaming Life into fragrant blossomed manifestation
the language of one cosmic breath at a time
perfectly imperfect and words can hardly explain how we feel
and the knowing supersedes anchoring the guttural feelings

missing the mark yet aiming anyway
crooked arrows pierce ecstatic hearts
we know where our desire guides us
even when we've forgotten the maps we drew together
are we willing to go there
have we faith in ourselves to risk perceived failure

we exclaimed smartly 'one day we will need these maps'
we thought we would outwit time but did we
or did time benevolently deceive us so we could learn our lessons

sand dunes slip listlessly through obsolete hour-glass receptacles
floating towards bottomless bed-rock pillows like feathers

in surreal thunder-storming lightening landscapes illuminate
feathers like snow-flakes each one unique trembling

they flutter gracefully seemingly with no direction like butterflies
journeying to the full moon circle dance ritual

lift up your hearts in mourning on this morning
all is well

the bigger picture sings resonates orchestrates cohesive elements
marches onward to the heart beat of the Earth drum
in concert in symphony in cacophony in order in chaos

no need to fear what is bigger than we
yet take heed when wandering in the desert on your vision quest
for the four directions bleed together like an oasis on a canvas
like pigments of a rainy-day mirage

 Odysseus: the Fourth Purpose

Noisy moon!
Our brain transforms order into chaos then reconstructs chaos into a new order like a sculpture of scavenged, sequined, skulls
like matrices manifesting mono-chords, magicians, and mountains of meaning
like a new order organically, beautifully, gently priming the status of the masses nestled sweetly in the grasses and the quo with Poe
while artists, lovers, contemplatives, seekers, sages and such chisel the paths of today towards a glorious tomorrow
...Hoorah, hoorah, la-la-la-la-la-dee-da
...let the foolery begin!
Don't be afraid to win, but if the fear feels queer make the decision to expand your vision with precision
Paint your impressions, heal your aggressions and instead of making concessions why not learn all the lessons and reap the blessin's
Noisy moon, anything worth doing is worth doing badly and we know we are not alone on our humble Hero's Journey
Together we stand, united triad of Man, Cosmos and Earth, worthy of our birth
Radiating gratitude for longitude and latitude
Let us kneel on our knees to bless the honeybees, praise the trees, sing to the seas and kiss the disease


We the Real 
My identity uncertain yet certainly I am real
 That dark fire that is me held in secret caves of light and color 
 That dark fire that is me held in the rapture of still emptiness
 Time after time violence attempts to snuff my flame 
 Justifying its means to an end by stating that I am not real
 Collective consciousness,our strength to endure 
 A light within and without retracting and reeling 
Great bursts of brilliant healing
 Touched by you, my life your own, and without you I would not be 
 This we project connects like synapses in the great matrix
 Must we recognize one another in order to be realized
 We who love and are loved exploring higher realms 
 Accepting we who are, we who have come to be, and that we will pass
We who wait for our awakening 
 Who’s sonic reverberations amplify 
 We who share the same breath while brooding 
 Sometimes silent, violent,looming
 Iconic barbarism in the temples 
 Murals depicting our demise 
 We hold the brushes all the while manifesting dreams 
 Pigments glowing, cracking while lacking lucidity 
 Brushes stroking soon to crumble walls and ceilings
 We collaborate in this massive design 
then point fingers at those who we call the others 
 Daunted, missing the mark
and still wrath rains down on those who have no shelter
 I hold the vision that one sweet day 
 We will wash soiled daggers in the streams of enlightenment
 We will rest daggers in the Earth, finally the cessation of suffering
 We will cleanse and we will emerge
 Accepting together but no longer tolerating the intolerable 
 Relying on one another, our actions revealing
our collective truth to see and shine
That dark fire that is we who are willing to thrive 
 Abiding, observing, loving, grieving, transforming
 Wildfires of gratitude burning wilted crops of old to the ground 
 Nourishing the Mother weaving, waxing, waning
 Alone and ravenous, burn on dark fires 
 Burn and bless this human condition that we may harvest mindfulness 
 To share with all who are real


Keep Singing Beautiful Bird   
Keep singing beautiful bird for your song inspires me to sit quietly 
acutely attuned to your peaceful message 
Your song reminds me to pay attention to the reflective prism of this magical moment and to my heart beating, giving, receiving metta in our 
Beloved Community 
Your song is a musically woven web of our heart/mind unity  
Yours is the song of brothers and sisters who are the jewels in Mother Nature’s divine crown

Keep singing beautiful bird for your voice reminds me that even the tiniest beings matter so much  
Each sparrow, each lock and curl of hair, each blade of grass, each ray of light each pulse of life
each dying breath in each being in this sentient Cosmos is accounted for  
Nothing is too subatomic to exist 
Your voice reminds me that we help the Universe know itself 
Your voice channels ephemeral glimmers of hope and vulnerability in twinkling eyes which have seen so much, which see me to my core, which observe my eyes returning the same all seeing gaze 
Together we lift our gaze beyond horizons into infinite skies of liberation
   Keep singing beautiful bird for no one can imprison your song, for I hear you
Your voice reverberates in my heart and mind echoing up and down my spine
ringing in my blood and veins
 Your song is a torch in the dark night of the soul, is a compass in the relentlessly barren desert
is wind stirring the catatonic doldrums at sea
 Sing your song in my ear that I may hear, warming my heart frigid with fear
Penetrate my despair with your music and wipe the slate clean when my mind is cloudy with disgust and disappointment
 Keep singing that I may learn to praise rather than to criticize
to construct rather than to shred  
 Keep singing beautiful bird for yours is the song of the peaceful
who are the majority
 Anthems rise as we take back our power from the few troubled ones
and invite them to join the chorus
 Your song, your sweet innocence, rescues me from the confines of my mind Swoops me up and carries me away from the entrapment of mental records skipping and replaying hollow scratching narratives of past heart ache
Keep singing beautiful bird
may your song drown out the cries of my shattering ego 
Drown out the cries of this violent ego of our collective consciousness
May your song of Morphic Resonance pierce and shatter this hall of mirrors
that we may surrender
no longer wandering the labyrinths of sorrow, struggle, and suffering   
 Keep singing beautiful bird 
Keep breaking the silence and exposing the violence 
Your song will never be muffled for truth is immortal and you transcend death
Divine grace is the song of Life
therefore we too transcend death through humble choice 
Your song is a spiral, a helix, a circle, a unified field
effortlessly thriving expanding and prodigally being   

 Life is a call and response to your song and conscious creation of 
the Mysterious What Is 


Tenacious Life 
Part One
 Gratitude is my Highest expression
It is the most skillful way to connect with you 
 In the spark of a moment rich with love 
 I see compassion in Nature’s truth
All beings are provided for and may thrive in abundance 
There is enough and we are rich
 I see kindness in a child who so willingly and cheerfully
 through self-motivated generosity
shares with the child who is smaller than him
the child who runs behind the pack
 The wiser child was eager to uplift the little one 
 Perhaps that is why one sacred text reads 
 “Blessed are the meek and humble, for they shall inherit the Earth”
 What is it that helps me have faith in humanity
 It is the fact that Life, Love, and Compassion overflow freely in Nature 
 When we mindfully observe these attributes we can mimic and practice them
 My faith in humanity resides in our essence
Nature is Truth
 No matter how far we stray, we may always return
 Despite that we personify G-d in our own tiny image 
We did not spawn from the rib of our own trite fantasies
 We are woven and undone by laws of the Multiverse within the Great Tapestry
  May we grow ever humble and grateful for bodies and ecstatic planes dimensions and human time frames
for all of our opportunities to experience true intimacy
 In the quiet stillness, I am ready to lay down my swords
my words, my thoughts, my struggle
 Life sparks and sprouts and climbs and expands before my eyes 
 All of my senses touched, for touch is my only sense
 The smell of the speed of light touches my nostrils and eyes
 sending a message to my brain saying 'yes!'
beauty is a delicate cascade of flowers flowing
stretching for sun, breath and water'
 Light is pensive wildness in coyote’s eyes touching my eyes
 the moment I open them after meditation
seeing before me the trickster of this rugged landscape
 Sound touches my eardrums, beats like a heart, like a butterfly 
 fluttering around the gentle face of a sleeping sun bather with warm, brown skin blessed by ten thousand kisses 
 Touch is the only sense
it is the soul alive in a body vehicle 
 A ghost in the machine converging with other ghosts in their machines
 Touch is love chiseling at today shaping a peaceful tomorrow
 Nature taps me on the shoulder and whispers a secret in my ear
 As a result I paint vivid portraits of creatures roaming
 and blossoms blooming in my mind
 In stillness I look deeply, I discover the soul of a plant or mineral 
beaming and pulsing as much as I
yet they will still be here to narrate the Earth’s story 
after I am gone
long live the meek and humble 
 Life perseveres tenaciously in tectonic growth cycles 
 Life’s desire to infinitely generate supersedes passionate mediocrity 
 This desire lives and propagates itself through death and decay  
We are the Great Compost Pile 
 What an honor indeed
 May we take comfort in fertilizing the soil
sewing the seeds with our being
so the future may harvest the fruits of our love and concern
 May we remember that their wellbeing greatly depends on ours    
Part Two
 Your tenacious love, life, and dream 
 Channeling truth and righteousness like a mighty stream 
 Came from divine power 
 Power that does that which seemingly can not be done 
 doing for us what we can not do for ourselves
 Turning toward suffering you are a force of Nature 
 Unafraid to pass through the valley of the shadow of death
 If you do fear evil you are not consumed by it  
 I know it isn’t easy for you
even though you make following 
one’s conscience look easy
You make it look like the options of remaining silent, complacent, and defeated are not options on the table when they always are 
 I know it isn’t easy for you
 Some of us glimpse at the blinding light of true humility 
 through blinking, dusty eyelashes, but we were slapped down
 knocked to our knees, thrown from our high horses
 You, the shepherd, the Good Samaritan, the father, the son
and a truly Holy Spirit, weep
 On your knees you ask how you may be honored to serve humanity 
 You pray for deliverance, demand the end of slavery, and peacefully yet defiantly choose freedom and justice 
 You walk away from the past with dignity never looking back
for going back is not an option 
 You always move willingly onward down that thorny path
 You accept your responsibility and your fate as the will of G-d 
 as the will of a Higher Consciousness, a Higher Love  
 Somehow you make it look easy, like it is something we all can do 
but I know it isn’t easy for you 
 I know each morning you’re still alive you greet the day in 
gratitude praying for the strength to carry on
 to seize the moment as if it were the last 
 and like Moses you guide your people to the promise land
 Who embodies such determination, purity, and courage to 
 invite the demons over to the house for tea  
 Who climbs a perilous mountain, gently carrying the weight of 
this world as if it is as fragile and precious as a new born baby
 Who drowns out the shrieking hatred of secret societies by singing 
“We Shall Over Come”
 Like a mantra, we shall over come
we shall over come 
 We have nothing to fear but fear itself
we shall over come
we shall overcome
 Who does this 
 One with an understanding of physics and fire and love does exactly this
 A sage tapped into the Wisdom of the Ages
 A sacred candle fearlessly burning from both ends
a torch, a bonfire igniting as many other fires as possible before transcending
before becoming the light of the world
and the suns and moons and stars and galaxies is who does this
 What kind of strength must one have to uplift this Beloved Community 
to its self-realized, self-actualized status in the 
great mystery and reality of the Godhead
 I know it isn’t easy but you muster up the strength and lift us up somehow
Being the yogi that you are rising above and beyond 
greed, hatred and delusion
 You channel divine power and make it look like 
it is something we all can do
 The long dark road you walk, the cross you bear 
 These metaphors make so much sense to me now
 You swim against the stream 
 chanting the ancient teachings
 If you knew you would die tomorrow
 would you still plant your apple tree today
 I know it isn’t always easy for you to be courageous 
 to love with an open heart 
 to forgive 
to have faith that we can heal
faith that the future can be better than the past
 I know your practice is excruciating at times
Walking in your shoes must be exhausting
Thank you
 Thank you for making it seem like something we all can do 
 and for showing us how it is done   

Letters to Uncle Ether  
(see blog for the complete Letters to Uncle Ether)

what had you imagined?  since you did not know me...
isn't the way one see's another and the world
really more about how they see themselves?

I don't see myself as fragile in the least...
no more than any other living being which will eventually die, in the body that is vulnerable, yes...that I am, unabashedly so perhaps
vulnerable to my own detriment, but that's better than the alternative

I do appreciate your care and concern for my wellbeing and wanting to be close and that you are learning how acute my sensitivities are...
I wish others could know that about me too, maybe they do...
but do they love me for it?
that's what I long for most as I am sure you can understand.

I see you as being very vulnerable, but fragile, not really...
you clearly want magic and depth and that says something about the sensitivity you possess...
I hope you are able to have your thirst quenched and
hunger satiated in "real" life... too...

but isn't that what all artists hope for?
isn't it why we must create art?
I see creativity and art as a paradox of escapism from and birth into some absolute reality which no one can ever know of despite how
honest we get with ourselves, others and Life...

we just have to accept that we don't get to know much even while
we possess a deep well of knowing...

do you see me as fragile because I said I do not see you as a "fair"?
that I actually look to our interactions as family members
and in our butterfly-ness, I'm actually learning to ground
into the world and reality more? 

I thought I had made it quite clear from the beginning that I sought attachment, creative and mystical yet wholesome?

I have an extremely high learning curve these days,
so I look for depth in those who are willing to go there...
and who will go there with an unwavering sense of responsibility as we go...
for that's the kind of empowered teacher and healer
I am learning to be for others...

people's hearts, minds and souls are extremely delicate
and in such profoundly different ways than the delicateness
of the body which dies no matter what...

our heart/mind/souls live forever...through continued conversation of sorts
so we all must learn to love one another better,
to take responsibility for the others' fragility

we all have to learn to take this seriously, to hold ourselves accountable for every thought, word and deed because Life is alive, every element, every detail is that real...


soothing sonic sensuousness seeping serenely

sinning sanctuaries, signing saviors, sleeping saints and sages
solidify scorched sandalwood sepulchres

saturation salvages serendipitous salutations and sacred semantics speak silently...superbly...surreptitiously


hetero, yet non-normative, feminist, white woman…member of Earth Tribe tenacious, intense, hyper-vigilant, precocious
well-intentioned and at times too tolerant
or is that called denial

black-sheep relative of privileged lineages
mixed with “wanna-be” and a few “real” Indians too
with the memory of diaspora, hate, violence, slavery, “cleansing”, and all ‘isms… deep in her bones and chemistry, for the history of hate permeates all beings regardless of their location on the spectrum of demoralization…

in our interconnected world no one can escape hate unmolested
yet, she must not claim too fervently her shock and brokenness
or her falling between the prescribed cracks of
normativity she unconsciously enjoys

for her whiteness is her unearned separateness
her unearned access to balms and bandages 
while wound and scar-stories, even between sisters
are non-comparative and rightfully so

yet her biology, is her one-way ticket to othered division roles
a wet cloak of invisibility drapes over and
plasters to her like concepts of “naturalized” femininity   

born into, born as, born through, born on…
the operative word…a precarious “stage”
and through it all…somehow, she has the memory
of a primordial soup of sameness
interconnectedness and perfection of love…deep in her bones too   

a member of the Earth Tribe with a memory of oneness
we are not weaklings, we are Earthlings…
oh Divine, forgive our imperfect culture of We
teach us your ways of Love before we drown in sorrow

her add in the classified section could read
“non-color-and-differences-blind white woman seeks individuation and transcendence within a collaborative, cooperative heterogeneous, and empowered collective”

because she can…

because she must…

because she can…    


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Satie - Gymnopedies, Gnossiennes, Je te veux... (recording of the Century : France Clidat)
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