His laughter
moves in time with a tiny gait
across the kitchen floor.
Heard from the next room over.
It’s like witnessing a miracle.
With each exuberant step
I am reawakened.

–NT  ©2018

Cosmic Orgasm


Cosmic Orgasm

I am a paradox,
Of inconceivable chaos
Masquerading around 
In perfect cell formation.

I am Twin Soul 
To the Universe.
Her sanguine stardust
Rushes through my veins.

And when the rhythm 
Of my body beats in time
With her cosmic shimmy,
I dissolve in orgasmic light.

The Wild Heart


The Wild Heart

Effeminate one,
Equivocate no more.

Stop undermining
Your purpose.

That pretentious ego bitch
Has been stealing
Your identity.

De-domesticize the
Feline, sitting perched
And pretty, kept in
Ornate patriarchal cages.

You hold the key
Against your
Counterfeit heart.

Dig a little deeper.
The feral roots are there.

A woman’s liberation
Is not found in deprivation.

The wild heart
Knows no boundaries.




These flawed beings
Set the bar for other flawed beings,
Perpetrating mistakes on which to gauge
Perfection, that human construct
Exclusive to mortals with the right criteria.
We fabricate dreams,
Swimming in spurious ponds of excellence
To allude our own uncertainty.
Nothing is ever perfect we say,
So we strive for nothing.
Yet nothing becomes everything.
Still there is nothing to gain
And everything to lose.


Music Moves Me


Music Moves Me

Music moves me,
Lifts my soul up out of some
Hidden place,
And gives it command.

An austere composer,
Who intends to master me.
It brings me to my knees;
Raises me to sovereign heights.

My soul plays me
Like a perfectly tuned violin.
The euphonious rhythm
Of my heart beating from my chest.

My own true Self,
Comes out to dance, the Divine Dance.
I reach symphonic Bliss,
When the Music moves me.

(Music Moves Me…Reblogged)


Dance of Ecstasy


Dance of Ecstasy 

Body in motion
Transcends time.
This wild woman syndrome
Takes hold
And sheds away
Pious parameters.
Falls down
Around my swaying figure
Like the shedding
Of snake skin.
I shake it off with
Gyrating hips
And quivering breasts.
Jangling golden coin
On waist vibrates
To the frequency
Of the Universe.
Spirit recognizes
The uncivilized call
Of the feminine.
Unconscious prakriti,
The primal force
Comes out
To play.
Animating its unrefined,
Yet refined drama
Through my spine,
What lay dormant
At the base.
The dance
Of ecstasy


Unequivocal Truth


Unequivocal Truth 

Genuine love is simple,
An unconditional
Condition of
Ambitionless being.
Emotions, those
Agents of ego,
Mimic love so well,
Most have forgotten
Its true nature.
‘Love is blind’
Excepted blindly,
I declare this
An oxymoron
Of giant proportions.
Love sees
The mental state.
It has no
Expiration date.
Love is the unequivocal
Of Truth.