Nova Scotia 2011: Self Validation Is A Self Full Act Which Transfixes The Force of Self Terror

Today I celebrate being alive;
being in love with my planet.
being in awe of my peace.
being human with respect of Life.

I am in love with peace.
I honor Life in all it's forms and expressions.
I have a choice to not love Life.
I could judge, be judged, be judgmental -
but judging myself and others
feels mentally terrorizing.
To be Self-judgmental
and judgmental of others,
creates terror which produces
a terrible terror-full Life.

To engage in Self-terrorism
is to drain the power out of Life.
Self-terrorism is a selfish act of powerlessness -
powerlessness which paralyzes
and alters one's personal force of nature.
Self-terror rejects Self-love to fuel Self-hate.

As an individual I choose
to recognize my presence,
and my ability to create more presence
and to create the presence of more love.

I respect my Self,
my days and nights
which add up to make
the sum total of my Life time.

I am here on this planet,

in my body experiencing
my Self create my Life.

For as long as I give and take,

for as long as it takes me to give,
and as long as it takes me to forgive -
I create more to recognize more of my Self,
to respect more of my own emotions,

and to navigate more of my unique mental landscape.
Life events created in the soundscape,
experienced as mental image pictures
traveling through space as stories,
sensory eclipses that are written then read,
reviewed, remembered, recycled reenactments.

My world is a planetary spaceship
moving through space.
My body is a planet
hosting all the elements of Life -
atmospheric layers surround body,
in some ways individual aurora borealis,
auric reflections mirroring energies within.
Life choices emanate from my core samples -
what I source as belief
creates some thing, in some way,
depth perception, spacial recognition,
color, light, sound and more -
more than I can some how imagine.

A friend once shared with me,
"If there is a thought in  your head
it is probably not your own."

Thoughts those wireless air trafficked noise
of all activity simultaneously occurring.
To sense thoughts is to read thoughts,
but thoughts represent nothing
and what has already been created
by someone doing something somewhere.

Space surrounds each expression,
the balance of the acoustics forming Life -
the sound of Life as an integral transpersonal presence.
We are, after all, the all and everything
existing as individual vibrational forces -
the what and the wherefore
of what we created to live as Life.

I am designed to take in impressions
and give off impressions.
I can sense personal presence,
I can sense the sound of all things -
the individual song sung
by the making of their presence,
the presence of their actions
eternally vibrating as the voice of their choice.

Are thoughts the harmonics generated
by the happenstance of Life?
I believe thoughts are impressions -
transparent essence, flowing waves of energy,
possessive memorable carrier signatures,
wireless sound and mental image pictures,
generational fluxes of energetic arcs, sparks,
contractions, pressures, expansions, impressions.
Thoughts are captured, held captive
by our mental and emotional bodies
to sense, to store, to story and to story tell.
Life is a tale of storied memorized thoughts,
data stories archived thoughtfully
as Life events we then call experiences -
but thoughts are simple elements of a larger whole,
and so thoughts are always incomplete and transitory.

Is there a common sense or a common way of sensing?
Thoughts might be an energy form we all commonly witness.

It is interesting that all living entities on our planet
are co-created individually to thrive
and survive as individuals.
Each individual's belief system
is special to their own life' journey.
There is no right or wrong path on a Life journey -
simply individual steps of daily destiny,
which move to develop one's own sense of fate.

Each individual creates and follows a direction.
which changes constantly;
with each awakening day,
with each exhale, each inhale,
with each loss of consciousness,
that constantly occurs
as part of the natural human journey -
sleep a relaxing recreational activity
for processing life experiences.

The past no longer exists,
the future has not been created yet.
It is in the present that an individual hears
their own unique song playing out their destiny.

Each their own, to each their own,
personal song of personal power -
a recognition of their own courage,
and the role each plays
in each own's personal awakening.
Individual purpose, vision and value
is not only a form of destiny
but is as well, personally created to Self-realize.
When in Self-doubt, when doubting one's Self,
each one of us each has one heart, one mind,
the spirit of truth inscribed
within each one of us created to create one Life.

I am certain of the power
of the forces of nature.
I know that I have witnessed
events beyond the experience of my senses.
The sensory unexplainable
has remained unexplained -
events of memory, sight and sound,
occurrences in space and time
which alter one's impressions of Life,
and leave mysterious cords that dangle questions.
To live is to want more knowledge of what more exists,
and to make peace with what more there is
which is currently occurring other than we can sense.

I believe individuals existing,
here on this planet,
do not speak very often
of what is truly meaningful.
Perhaps sometimes it is hard
to find the vocabulary,
or to know where to find
the inner courage ...
to communicate
from one's own heart
what is so very special to one's Self.

So, in honor of how hard I have worked
to become my Self,
today I celebrate being alive,
being in love with my planet,

being in awe of my peace,
I am a Human Being honoring all Life.

I am here on this planet, in this body, 

Being my Self, becoming my Self,

for as long as I give and take,

for as long as it takes me to give,
and for as long as it takes me to forgive -

Self-validation is a Self-full act
which transfixes the force of Self-terror.

~~ Other People's Fingerprints ~~
Sometime after 1935 Mary Oliver wrote;
My work is loving the world.
Here the sunflowers, there the hummingbird ~
equal seekers of sweetness."

In 1986 Mary Oliver wrote "The Journey" in "Dream Work";
... But little by little,
as you left their voices behind,
the stars began to burn
through the sheets of clouds,
and there was a new voice
which you slowly
recognized as your own,
that kept you company.
You strode deeper and deeper
into the world,
determined to do
the only thing you could do,
determined to save
the only life you could save."

"The Watcher" by Karin Lisa Atkinson

"Alien Piloting their Flight Craft" by Karin Lisa Atkinson

Los Angeles 2010: I Fully Exist

My poems took me my entire life to produce.

The stories I tell are non-scripted aberrations 
of time, travel and tension.

My earlier work was absurd, 
violent, non-linear and sad.

Lesions oozing 
from the world of stirred realities 
and confused illusions.

I never knew which was which …

but I always felt 
every breath deeply 
and every tear dramatically –

that is when I could cry…

most times my eyes were blind and dry.

I had seen, and given, too much of myself

to produce expendable moisture of any kind.

I gave away my Soul 
each moment 
while creating the art of my living.

I gave away my Soul 
performing for the masses 
of undesiring audiences.

I no longer stand 
on window ledges and rooftops 
watching pedestrians,

shouting out to them, 
at them 
or with them…

Nor do I write of wounds

to perpetuate 
the violent complexity 
of my inner struggle,

and Self-defeated Self-esteem.

I no longer bang my head 
against walls, sidewalks 
or doorways to the unknown.

I no longer roam the streets homeless,

rejected and denied

with no place to sleep,

and no sleep to reap deeply fulfilling dreams.

There are things that I have seen 
that no one should ever have to see.

There are words that I have heard spoken 
that no one should ever have to hear.

Due to it all, this experience called life -
of living hell 
and questionable mental sanity -

I have blossomed.

I have flowered from a seed hiding, 
germinating, in the dirt,

into a woman forged of fortitude.

Strong to battle standing up 
the chaos of the world within,

and the world without.

I think I am foolish enough 
to always find a store of optimism,

to forgive everything 
and wake up the next day, 
fully present,

having forgot the ruin 
and destruction of the past day before.

I truly believe that I am a loving person,

and that each moment is an opportunity 
to redefine myself, to myself, for myself.

I fully believe that each day is an exercise 
in discovering new ways to love myself,

no matter what…

and so the journey goes on until it ceases to exist…

and my eternal, I, further ventures

into the wonderland of the bodiless soul of adventure,

and I will never cease, nor desist, 
because without a doubt, I know, I fully exist.

~~ Other People's Fingerprints ~~

 William F. Scolavino wrote;

“The height of your accomplishments

will equal the depth of your convictions.”

Photography by Karin Lisa Atkinson

Cuba, NYC 1987: Brush Away Troubles With A Transformational Grin

Cuba New Year’s Eve 
a crammed outdoor sports stadium.

Gyrating dance, jazz, 
drinks, eats and smokes. 
All along a river

sweating with 

coupled demonstrations 
of contact life and love.

Beach salsa parties 
tart with rum 
end in early morning,

when bus stop vendors 
dispense espressos 
to wrinkled clothed insomniacs.

Sunshine lightens the load, 
by exposing each day 
to what is concealed.

The dawn opens
energizing endurance 
into those who continue to live,

We who learned,

from those who passed, 
We search for our legacy 

via human history.

Standing on the beach of Cuba 
looking towards the Americas, 
I see a mirage.

erroneous rubber rafts, 
elusive floating barges,

mythological people 
shipping out on a miracle.

Fueled by the reverie 

of a blessing from a creative force,

who loved humans, 

even before 
humans ever dreamed
of praising and loving 
the creativity within themselves.

I witness 

sanctimonious ceremonies 
swim the hallowed gulf,

life-savers of discontent 

snug around waist.

I watch the dolphins laugh 
at the competitive distance 

needing to be dogpaddled, 
and at what deathly pace.

To close the spiritual 

and material gap 
between the worlds -

we all swim the seven seas 

of enchanting the disenchanted,

transforming experience into wisdom,

and ancestral perceptions 

into more than wounded egos, 

but sensitive souls 

and sensational spirits.

Only the graveness

of water's current knows 
where the boat floats to next.

I drift from Toronto

to Cuba to New York City 
Awash in the community of exiles 
who keep their culture alive,

in small backrooms, 
in cities on the edge of transforming
material and spiritual bankruptcy.

Discovered and undiscovered

places and spaces,

rich enough for immigrants 
fresh from other worlds.

No one shares 

with the new arrivals 
that this land 

is in the grips of recession.

So the immigrants celebrate 
feeling born again with privilege 

they make merriment.

Yet homesick they feel 

dead tired from scaling wealth 

ever up, towards, to be come

tomorrow's class nobility.

In New York 
the clouds above 

the skyscrapers demand 

that this city share space 
with occasional rain falling -

from far above ground, 
down onto industrious faces.

Men sitting in parking lots 

control damp streets 

with the wit contained 

within their occasional

moistened bodies.

They chair meetings of the boards, 
the homeland turf needing defending

as Little Italy fights Chinatown 
from unplanned expansion.

These territory wars separate people 
from self, fulfilling their dreams 

of personal individual liberty.

Adults could choose to live free 
and walk the neighborhood streets

eating dumplings, noodles and pizza. 

They could choose to digest the riches of our 

shared cultural culinary histories.

Instead of creating territorial boundaries.
Instead of creating unsustainable wars over resources.
Instead of consuming fear.

Instead adults teach their children to fear, 
to be in terror and to terrorize.

Adults stage grudge matches 
which threaten the community,

create next generation teenagers 

terrified of becoming teenagers in terror.

We all know from human history lessons 
that teenagers in terror terrorize -
and that groups of people 

when they gather - gang up.
Charged up daily 

by the energy of the Sun 
and becoming so heated 

that we create living battles, 
which scorch the earth dry, 
from the fiery extremes of passion.

There is no middle ground under the Sun.
The hottest ball of energy in our system is solar,
Creating solitary independence 
for each individual fused with atomic reaction.

We all know from human history 
that groups of peopled-atoms, 
when gathered protest'

resist becoming a vibrating mass -
an uncontrollable spontaneous 

combustive force of nature.

An argumentative augmenting power 

unyielding therefore an alterer

capable of altering all past forms.
That which causes reform,

dematerialization, reformation,

decomposition, decentralization.

All that exists as a previous generation,

all that which was generated by those before us,

all of that regenerates, rematerializes, reforms -

after the fall, post-dematerialization -

follows the un-forming into reshaping new forms.

All that was new renews 

and becomes renewable.

The renewed energy'

of the last felt experience,

expended energy creates expanded energy -

and all of these cycles of existence

create our newly formed uncertain futures.

The highest audience 
looks down upon Broadway 

claps thunder -
delivers lightning strikes

sharpened toothpicks 

which clean, clean bright 
the lofty pearly whites 

of caretaker smiles.

Smiles that flash-brighten 
our subways and subroutines. 

caretaker smiles that beam,

lighten up the darkness of those 

living underground unconsciously.

Like clockwork arrangers avenging,
street cleaners and sanitation engineers,
we periodically lift the concrete carpet 
to sweep under its under belly, 

and hide away for a later time,
all the dark unresolved human shame -

the hidden grudge and unseen grime

of valueless value systems.

This teeth-clenched cities.

They daily amaze and astound us.

House and cloth us.

Feed and shelter us.

Protect us from our own choices,

and daily acts of brushing away

our nightly troubles.

These streaming cities

cannot be steam-cleaned,

become so sanitized,

that their smirk at humanity

is wiped clean off,

removed from their urbane faces. 

Unseeingly and seemingly we all

wear worn-down smiles,

smirks and frowns reshaped

and when the occasion illuminates,

we are made constant, consistent, reformed

through loving choices 

and love for our choices.

The choice pieces that bring peace 

to our warring parts within.

That part of our selves 

tempted to self-destruction.

We constantly save our selves

with renewed love, and so new choices.

Eventually each one of us 

is reshaped by our choices,

remade and so inspired to remake.

Each one of us is magically shape-shifted,

bedazzled into wearing a transformational grin.


~~ Other People's Fingerprints ~~
After 1940, Miguel Barnet wrote;
“Now that the syllables of my heart
are awake in my house
I spread my voice to all the cardinal points
With a marimba and a drum
I proclaim my love for this land.”