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Easy access to it all

White Feather’s Tip Jar

Fiction

(Scroll further down for non-fiction and click here for my Poetry Archive)

Thin Rectangular Boxes
A dystopian horror comedy

The Happiest Dude
Who just did not fit in

Meditating With Cats
Finding the right frequency

The Pink Bicycle
And the joy it could bring

Seeing the Beauty and Love
It’s so easy to forget

Selling Paragraphs in Envelopes
A radical concept

The Laughing Saint
Bernie pays a visit to Sal’s town

The Boss’s Blip
Or was it something far more severe?

A Witch Doctor Divorce
Looking through the fire

Another Wonderful Glorious Day
The story of an irritating…


Poetry

Looking into the mirror and beyond

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Photo by Colin Watts on Unsplash

Do you ever swim through solid rock? Do you ever fly through the air to different times? Do you ever pierce through the envelope of the illusory reality you were conditioned to live in?

Can you touch and feel All That Is? Or do you live within the mind-created boundaries you agreed to over the course of your ephemeral physical life? Can you surrender to that which is beyond everything you think you know?

We are limitless but we chose to play the game of limitation in order to understand and appreciate the unlimited state from which we came and to which we will inevitably return. …


Fiction

Romance under the stars

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Photo by Jackson Hendry on Unsplash

Jeremy craned his neck to look up at the night stars. Without looking at his girlfriend Eileen, he spoke softly, “It is so amazing. There are billions and billions of stars. There is no way we can see them all. There are billions of galaxies, each with a billion stars. We can look forever and not see it all.”

Eileen was silent as she looked up into the night sky.

“Have you ever wondered what it must be like up there in the middle of it all?”

Eileen said nothing.

Jeremy briefly looked at Eileen then back up at the night sky, “What do you see when you look up at the night sky? Do you lose yourself in the endless stars? Do you wonder what other objects are out there? Do you wonder how far away everything is? Do you see yourself in a spaceship shooting through the universe seeing so many different worlds? How do all those many stars make you feel?” …


Fiction

What was missing?

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Photo by Andrea Junqueira on Unsplash

If only I could love the world as much as I love her.

That is the question Gerard had been asking himself for weeks. He loved her with every fiber of his being. When he was with her he was in heaven. He felt complete. He felt like he was his true self; the expression of his divine being. She was his goddess and when he was with her he felt like a god. But when he was away from her he felt like some meaningless character in a meaningless game.

Gerard was successful. He was wealthy. He had accomplished most of his goals. He had made a name for himself. When he showed up at a restaurant or event there was always a retinue of fans and reporters and cameras waiting to herald his appearance. Privacy had evaporated from his life. …


Or was it?

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Photo by Mike Kenneally on Unsplash

I am an empty vessel through which a story may come into this world. I call forth a story to come through me now.

Langston said this in his mind three times. With anything important he always said things or did things in threes.

Langston was a writer and he did 95.4 per cent of all his writing in the mornings. To him, mornings were sacred. He had already gone outside to perform his sunrise ceremony and he had already done his morning meditation. …


Fiction/Music

Penetrating music

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Photo by Enrique Guzmán Egas on Unsplash

Peter placed the side of his face up against his lover’s big fat belly. He then began singing.

Peter could barely carry a tune. He was tone deaf, off-key, and infuriatingly pitch imperfect. (Redundancy intended.)

But he knew all the words to his favorite songs, most of which were sung by women. While his naked lover dozed off he sang to her belly. With the warmth of her belly on his face Peter sang So Far Away, It’s Too Late, and You’ve Got a Friend by Carole King. He sang Harpo’s Blues, Poetry Man, and Easy Street by Phoebe Snow. …


Poetry

Phosphorescent presence

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Photo by Eric Prouzet on Unsplash

The sound of crickets in the background
Preventing total silence
A distant almost imperceptible melody
A feeling flowing through my veins

The past and future slowly evaporate
Possibilities coalesce
Long forgotten dreams reappear
Slipping through an unseen door

Feelings given up on
Never to be felt again
Bubble to the surface
And everything changes

There is no need to wait for another life
For youth to reappear
For another taste of exuberance
For joy to take over

In the darkness life begins to glow
Heartbeats can suddenly be heard
Exquisite softness can be felt
Purpose becomes obvious and natural

There is no longer any resistance
There is no longer any thinking
There is no longer any struggle
There is no longer any fear

Copyright by White Feather. All Rights Reserved. Thank for reading.


How do you start your days?

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Photo by Federico Respini on Unsplash

Awakening to a new day is something we do with each rotation of the planet. With age we have the opportunity to become adept at awakening. Spiritual enlightenment is also a form of awakening but it can take an entire lifetime or even multiple lifetimes before it happens.

Do we use our daily morning time awakenings as practice for bigger awakenings? How consciously aware are we of our morning awakenings? Are they merely fast perfunctory shifts between states of awareness? What kind of energy is involved? Do we awaken with alarm (with the help of alarm clocks)? Do we hold any resistance to awakening in the morning? Do we immediately start planning? How quickly do our endless mental loops of thought begin playing in our noggin? How much of our awakening is spent free of all thought in a receptive state to new possibilities? …


Going beyond hand shaking

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Photo by Sebastian Unrau on Unsplash

Dalton was glad to leave behind the dusty, trash-strewn city sidewalks as he turned into the dirt path that led into the forest. Soon he was reaching out and touching all the trees alongside the path. He usually did not hug trees so much as shake their hands. The important thing is the touch.

He also spoke to the trees in his mind. One does not shake someone’s hand without an accompanying greeting. Hello. Nice to meet you. Great to see you again. Good morning. Hi. Good day. Howdy.

Once Dalton was deeper in the forest there were certain trees that warranted intense hugging. Although Dalton loved all trees, there were some that were close friends. …


Ugly is a judgment

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Photo by Biel Morro on Unsplash

Ugliness or beauty?
What do we see?
What we see
is what we give power to

What we see we create
What we FEEL we create
What we give is what we receive
What we love is what we empower

Beauty is our divine power
Ugly is a judgment
Underneath every judgment of ugly
lies beauty waiting to be seen

When we judge
beauty dissolves
Without beauty
love dissolves

Without love
our divine nature dissolves
Without seeing beauty
we are stuck in lack

In a state of lack
beauty remains invisible
If we cannot see it
we cannot feel…

About

White Feather

Earthling — Lifelong novelist & essayist — https://whitefeather.substack.com/

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