Mar 27, 2013


At 7:04 on March 27th, Mars sent down his child to occupy earth.
Spun into solid in the form of daughter she would temporarily belong
to one Lauren and Claude.
Bursting into being, she took her first breath between screams
louder than the average baby.
This 8 lb 8 ounce space traveling freedom fighter had not one moment to spare.

What she knew instantly, was that her bones were made of poetry
and her soul of the fire from her home planet.
She was also old.  This she knew best.  She was weary and worn.
The journey had been long.

She saw children as children and recognized herself only as the wise sage
who had just been sent back, now housed inside this tiny five year old body.
As for the scar on her cheek, she wondered how it would look as she grew.
It faded and vanished and as she got older, and her old age faded too.

She began to adapt and blend into humanity and forget
that in the beginning she knew all.
Nearly forgotten were the endless summer evenings outside
wondering why she was so old and how everything was so clear,
and the way it felt as the end of the last was reconciling itself with the start of the new.

Decades passed and her youth caught up to her
with a tap on the shoulder and a seep into her skin.
She would now temporarily belong.

Her way would be lost, but she would always find it a year or two later in the same orbit
when the time was right, for nothing had ever really gone away at all.

It had only moved.
Out of reach.
For a time.

She would take the form of wife.  And in the future she knew, mother.
And along the way, the alchemy inside the vessel would match
the movement of the cosmos
and whisper with her soul to follow the omens.

And this is where the story stops.
For a minute.  Because this is all we know of it.
The journey will be long.
She is weary.  
But she will continue.  Space traveling, freedom fighting child of Mars.
Because she is young now.  And getting closer each round.

There is something here to do.  It pulls her closer a little more each day.
She temporarily belongs.  And when the final round is up,
the poetry and flames can finally dismember,
streaking the sky, moving onward and upward,
and home she goes to rest.

Mar 23, 2013


I came across a piece of paper with some bits of words and poetry while spring cleaning.  I wanted to hurry and put them here before I lost them for good.  I've been so busy lately with starting a new job, getting ready to go back to school, meeting with advisors, photo shoots, various other appointments, and filming for youtube.  My head is spinning! Nothing is ever spread out.  Life always feels full blast or standing still.

I'm also going to be writing more this year, and sharing it through spoken word on my youtube channel.  I'm very excited about this.  I've already put up my first.  I wanted to just do it and feel it out, with no outside influences.  Now that it's done, I'm ready to delve deep.  I've spent my day off watching some incredible online spoken word performances.  My learning has begun, and I'm off to see some locals next week.

I always have bits of poems and stories in me but I haven't had a chance to get them all out this week.  I managed the beginnings of something the other day and jotted it down before I left for work.

Here are the pieces of all of the above.  I think I'll start giving you pieces here more often.  When they come and I can catch them before they've gone.

You can translate however you like.

When you wonder how they might pertain...well...sometimes they mean nothing.

And sometimes they mean everything.

* * * * *

Sometimes I am rendered immobile with worry
I will never be capable of loving anything
but the unattainable

* * * * *

I feel in words.
I document as the only way I know how.
In poem.

* * * * *
Spring 2012 (probably April or early May)

So many pairs of eyes fixed upon a monitor of sorts
that none of us can read or speak or translate
to any sort of comfort or explanation
I cannot take my eyes off my mother.
I see her as she must have ben at five.
She is a child.
Right down to the ponytail she wears
at her big brothers bedside.
We wait.
One collective breath.
This room is so full.
So silent and so full.
The air is rich.
Absolutely rich with memories.
It is palpable.

* * * * * *

Mar 14, 2013

11:11 Awakening

My mind is blown right now.

If you're a loyal reader of my blog, then you've followed my personal awakening and spiritual journey for the last few years.  You've seen my references to the date my journey began.  I talk about how I knew it one day, how my inner voice said, "mark this date.  Things are about to change.  Here we go."  

The date was April 11, 2011. 

As I've become more immersed with literature and conversation with like minded folks and fellow new age souls, I've recently (and I mean only within the last couple weeks recently) started to see and hear people refer to 11:11 as the code of awakening.  

Wait a minute.  

I just went back through my blogs and not only did I mention the significance of 4/11/11 to me here (as well as other entries) but I found another entry where I wrote about getting a fortune cookie on 4/10/11 that said, "you will be showered with good luck tomorrow."  And I certainly was.  The next day would mark my most important journey.  

I'm only now beginning to delve into the meaning behind 11:11.

Even though next month is my three year anniversary, I still have a long way to go. 

Off to learn more...

Deena Marie 

Mar 11, 2013

Her name was Athena

There once was a little girl named Athena.
Formed in a star, created in eternity.
She came to live on Earth sometimes, and always found it difficult.
For you see, she simply didn't fit.
She carried too much recycled warrior stardust to pack neatly into human form.
The parts inside were just too big.
Ancestor tapestry of Sylvia Plath, Carl Sagan, Joan of Arc 
seemed at times the perfect, albeit unfortunate, melancholia.
Although lightly pinned together, she is trapped.
A temporary purgatory of constant fighting, forging, blazing,
It is relentless.  She must push through.
Until she returns once more, parts scattering,
releasing, before she becomes something else.
She longs for the day when she'll feel it again,
The freedom of the in between...home.
Where she belongs.
In the sky.
The galaxy's aching poet child can do nothing,
or she can do everything...while she waits.

- Deena Marie  3.11.2013

Mar 8, 2013

Wanting the impossible.

I've been thinking about "the impossibilities of judging another" for nearly 24 hours now.  It started with a comment I made on a Facebook post that got my thoughts swirling and my words forming, and now here I am.  With something much bigger than I originally intended to post.

Over the course of life you learn to never say never.  I can't stress how important this mantra has become to me.  And crucial.  Over time, you will find yourself in situations you never in a million years thought you'd be in, or could have ever planned for.  Planning, in fact, is a large part of the problem.  Planning is a trick and often has the reverse effect of what the intentions behind it are.  If you make a plan from which you tell yourself you cannot waver, any unexpected event or roadblock will only cause you grief.

Plans can of course be good.  It means you have an idea of what you want and what you're interested in.  That is, if it's your plan and not someone else's plan for you.  It means you're tuning in.  You're following your instincts and following your heart.

But the most important things of all when planning, are flexibility and adaptability.  That's the secret.  All the things you tell yourself when you're a teenager and in your early twenties (when you are one hundred and fifty percent sure of who you are, what you stand for, and all you'll ever want to be) only belong to a version of you.

You know the time you wait for (that you know one day will magically come) when you're finally a grown up, and you'll know how to be an adult? And what to do, and how to do it just like you see your parents do? It never comes.

It's all one big experiment up until our physical body expires.  An experiment for you, your parents, for anyone you've ever known or will know.

We're all making it up as we go along and doing our best for what is right for the version we are at any given moment in time.

As you grow and gather along the way all the unexpected, transformative, huge, and traumatic experiences that add to the sum of who you are, you realize just how impossible (and not only impossible but completely nonsensical) it is to ever judge another.

See, we never know what we're capable of until we're forced with the thing we swore we'd never have to do, or the situation we knew could never happen to us.

There's that word again.  Never.  Never say never.

If, or more importantly when, these lessons arise, be gentle with yourself.  Forgive.  It will wound you but it doesn't have to ruin you.  It feels for awhile like a betrayal to who we thought we were or who we wanted to be, finding ourselves in that spot that happen to other people but never to us.

Acceptance is crucial.  Accept simply that "we don't know what it is we don't know."  And that the same is true for any human, at any moment.  There is only sympathy.  There is only compassion.  The more you surprise yourself, survive, and age, the clearer this becomes.  That to judge another is impossible.  Everything you know to be true right now, can one day change by events in life that you'd never see coming.

You would want sympathy and understanding, and you certainly wouldn't want to be judged when it's you.  Why wouldn't everyone else want and deserve it, too?

Lately, when I see judgements passed it makes me sad.  A dull, deep, sadness.  I'm not sure why now, or why so sad.

Judging yourself or others is so small.  So incredibly small.  It comes from a small mind, a small world view, a small life, and keeps it small.  I do realize that judgement comes from a place of simply not knowing.  There should be compassion for that concept alone, and I'm trying.  But it hurts.  I'm not even talking about or being spurred on from any recent personal experience.  Just from observation.

Maybe it's because more than ever I am aware and understand that every fiber in me craves the opposite.  I choose big.  I want the biggest mind I'm capable of.  The biggest life with every possible experience.  The answers and opportunities to explore from getting the knowledge I'm seeking.  It's on full force within me.  The volume is up.

I've also been slowly but surely trying to wrap my head around and notice that our thoughts have everything to do with our happiness.  Our reality and how we perceive and experience the world.  Judging is negative.  Even if you don't realize it, the negative energy adds up.  Not only do others sense the negativity and instinctually avoid you, but it drains you.  And you aren't as happy.

The question I  keep coming back to when thinking about this is, "how can you judge what you don't know?" You don't know the decisions someone has had to make that they never wanted to, or planned on.  How can you tell anyone outside of yourself what is right? Or wrong?

It's like the Carl Sagan quote, "If you want to make apple pie from scratch, you must first invent the universe."  For someone to explain "why" they are the way they are to someone judging them for it, they would have to start with the moment of birth, and then every experience they've ever had, and the impact of every person they've ever encountered so you could understand what has shaped them into who they are up until that point.  But actually, then you'd need to go further back.  You'd have to explore the lives of the parents that birthed them.  Then their parents, and their lives, and their parents, their lives, and so on.

But here's the other thing.  No explanation is necessary.  To anyone outside of yourself.

You are enough.  You do what you can, with what you have, where you are, today.

If more people understood that, there would be more sympathy and less judgement.  Sure we all believe what we believe is right.  We may even think we need to spread messages to sway other people in to our beliefs or lifestyles.  But I'd like to suggest another way.  I think there's simply the way of sharing what we know.  I've said it a million times, we are each others teachers.  It's crucial.  What if instead of  preaching what we know is right or true, we just gave? What if we just share who we are, who we've been, and who we're becoming, and let others interpret and take from it what they will? And what if this sharing of the self came from a only a place of love? Of compassion? Of expecting nothing in return? Of a judgement free place.

What I realize is I am seeking the people who are big.  In mind, in heart, and in life.  The teachers.  The lifters.  The inspirations.  I want to surround myself with those who have the most knowledge.  The biggest minds.  The most open of hearts.

Those who will help me in spreading compassion.

There is only compassion.
There is only love.

Compassion and love bring unity.

We are all one.

Thanks for reading

My life in pictures:

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