Bless it up – Bliss it up – Beautiful u now
Bless it UP – Podcast #2 – Beautiful u Now
Peraltas’s melancholy word spin
sitting here in the mere ness of my self, the meagerness, the merryless ness of me,
marry me baby be, marry me by a medlar tree.
stay with me baby be, stay with me in a nook,
crawl, hands on grass, on mud, on water, crawl
like hatchlings finding the pond,
cradle me hatchling baby be, cradle my brave decent from agonies alabaster agony, cradle my fall to the mercurial delight of watching your starlight loom,
stay fast by the ready, stay fast by and by.
i speak of only seeing your body envelope mine in a shell that emits only darkness and accepts only light,
is this a daunting task? am i your taskmaster?
if so, so be it, i’ll whip you to shape- task master me,
i’ll cradle your belly, falling belly, simple belly, rub belly, here is the end of me known simply as Peralta.
a girl who stops and bends and calls, and swoops and sighs and turns.
turn me over sunshine rover, turn me over and over in our mental labia, dense and soft, supple. yield thy arrows and the crown is yours to wear. gasp. gape. grapple with significance standing up. 
Glorious music of Travis Puntarelli Levity @ onG kinG Arts Center from days past
One of the best creators of song alive on planet Earth. I flew him to Oahu to partake in our Solstice Celebration. He is a parade of song of truth and mirth. Summoning incantations which honor the best in each of us.
Listen close and your spirit will be lifted.
Travis Puntarelli Levity is brilliant. Playing here at the wonderous oNG KiNg Arts Center in Hononlulu – Chinatown.
“What say you Child of God, Child of Babylon, What? We know Babylon is not a spot on the map we know Babylon is a state of mind, and we wear it on our backs and we wear it on our wrists and invoke it when we ask the time. We sit in the tree and hack at the trunk, hacking it until it falls. Goodbye old world, Hello Sunshine. The show is over come on now and turn the page, we went too far and now we go on.” Travis Puntarelli
“Thats the thing with the language, only half of its true. So when I say ‘whatever’ what I mean is let us SING!” Travis
Video includes: Battle of Avery, Ole time Religion
“What I’m trying to say, is we’re all in it together, and we’ve got to find a way. I don’t know the name of the road. But we’re all upon it, slow parade of souls.”Travis
Thanks to Mikey Wong for shooting this.
Seek truth in Music, Lyrics and Positive VIbrations = Podcast See Ellauri + Music of Medicine for the People and…
“Can you read what you hear?”
“only the children get it only the babies, only the every and we are the children the babies the us in each other we are a community of gods and fairies and butterflies and raptors, natural baby just watch us evolve to revolve around the sun. caress me goddess you are the dancer and stage maker, know me silent one your muse is a fingertip, tulip lip your time has passed your seed is sown, your trigger snapped and drapes of cloth golden silk indian robes perspire your elegance, for nothing is ever over nor has it even begun. the seeds are just condensing they cry at our parting, the tears are their sustenance, until they reach the light and the light is everywhere it is what is the great beyond. but little do I know, I am no god mandate subscriber, I am a player into the you that unfolds now now now.”
Blue Aina
and you may talk of powers. of levitation in the dark field of India of a buoyant disposition that cradles the soft waves of perception, the myriad of vessels to fill with such ignorance is vast and proof of the deep reckoning. my face quivers its ash off. the hunched over recipe for forgiveness has festooned the horizon and such strides as it would take to arrive have jettisoned from my repose. all i need is what I have and all i have is what i don’t need. It’s a strange crossroads, ravished by gratitude and speaking with petty certainty, jovial decency while inside a sinking weight trespasses on all my receptors. where have you sunk Hawaii? why have you cast my soul into your net? The new buzzwords off the Internet are so stupid that they make me react vile and off-putting, and these pleasant talks and too easy thoughts make they who speak worthless. and it is I who is such and so obvious do I drink perception. these fruits are made wine by the children. they have perfect selves and imperfect lives. The school circles them into penned foolery and makes buffoons of there instincts. and my garden is respite, until it becomes a chore like all things. the soft knowledge of love becomes all I can focus on, that and some ambition of focus. some thought of a better station where the sets are paced in rhythm with that of the goddess the god, the cycle of what must be. but it’s elusive and time moves slow and despondent. i climb into the future like a crawling baby through a corridor, clinging to loyally and drowning the perception of the certain certainty of where i should be doing what. and i do not have the time or the patience to be dealing with the banalities of existence. but the tree is spared its pain by the falling of leaves. their song is muted by the fall. recollected they sing, they testify that they caused my life. i haven’t grown new ones. just these old leaves. autumn bleeding into black into a hue of red that would match the horizon and cast into the air its skin shakes the walls the birds wink the lips pucker the sounds are the call. i must go back.
