Tag: angel numbers

the eleventh hour.

On By blsh1 Comment

When I write love poems it feels like they belong to some wild combination of every lover I’ve ever had and those I’ve yet to meet or even imagine. I’ve been thinking about it, and I believe this has a lot to do with my Venus in Sagittarius in the 11th House with Scorpio on the cusp. The planet Venus of course ruling our love and relationships, sits in Sagittarius in my chart. Sagittarius being the fiery archer who shoots first and asks questions later, led by a higher faith and devotion, sometimes to a fault. Both the student and teacher, Venus in Sagittarius has molded me into a lover of learning, expansion and growth in all forms of relationship. Sagittarius trusts and embodies it’s truth, knowing embarking on a voyage in the basis of that truth will always be a journey worth taking.

It all lives in my 11th House. The 11th House is ruled by Aquarius. The house of the collective, friendship, innovation. It is a house of our highest hopes and biggest dreams. It shelters our wishes before flinging them forward into the world in vibrant anticipation. It’s the house that reminds us of the importance of how we are all interconnected. Mix that with Scorpio in the 11th house and it becomes an intense, transformative desire for deep relationships/friendships, trying to fulfill an emotional depth (but after deep self-reflection I’ve realized this is a depth I can only fill myself).

When I reflect on my poetry and try to pinpoint it to one person, it’s hard to do. I can be inspired by a particular situation, but once the words come out it’s like they weave through the spiralic timeline of my life, reaching out and caressing each soul who has ever touched my life and ever will. I am grateful for this expansive view of love. I am curious as to where it is leading my adventurous heart next.

How closely have you looked at the planets/placements in your chart? In what ways do they act as your muses, informing your creativity?

The next 11 poems/prose range from 2015 to now in no particular order. I didn’t pick that number by the way. It just ended up being that many I chose to share. Love it. (11:11). This is a glimpse into what my heart looks like in evolution. Ever changing. Thank you.

1.

You break my heart always

at the same time of year

the delicate in between

of winter and spring

spring buds and blooms

winter frosts and consumes

it’s a war

that I can no longer bare to watch

I know the warmth is coming

I am tired of having to learn this way

2.

come speak in stars with me

our mouths housing entire constellations

planets dripping from our tongues

where every word echoes

of some distant universe,

pulling us into its gravity

how could I communicate

with you

in any other way

than through the heavens

3.

It’s always a mourning process.

A morning,

process.

Purging you from my bed.

I see no trace of you

on the white linen

But I feel remnants of you

within the threads.

4.

You see
I am trying to forget

every smile,
your lips slightly tugging at the corners of your mouth
every freckle,
I counted when you laid asleep next to me
every brush of fingertips
when we reached for the same thing

When did we stop reaching for the same thing?

You see
I am trying to forget

the lights reflecting off river water
how your hands shook
until they met my waist
the way you pushed your hair back
just slightly out of your face

You see
I am trying to forget 

all the ways you said I love you
be it in this alphabet or another

You see
I am trying to remember

how beautiful I am
how the curves of my body never need to meld again to yours
for me to feel love

You see
I am trying to remember

how gentle I am with lovers hearts
and how rough I’ve been with my own
I’m asking for it to forgive me

You see
I am trying to remember

what I deserve
how to center myself
how I am full

I didn’t depend on you,
I just simply wanted
you

I ask, 
“When did it stop?”
“Where did it go?”
You tell me you do not know

And I too, 
wish I couldn’t recall

5.

In my eyes,
everything is short term. 

My existence is less than 
a quick glance between forbidden lovers.

But I remember standing by the river,
laughing in between kisses,
bodies slightly shivering 
from a midnight summer breeze,
or maybe just nerves.

Meeting you,
standing next to you,
laughing with you,
kissing you,
holding you,

has made me believe in infinity.

6.

Straddling your lap, your hand in my hair, breath hot, your laugh, my smirk, color rising to my cheeks. That is when you tasted sweet. We were ripe for love. Now we sit on opposite ends of the couch, rotting.

7.

Looking back on it, I should’ve squeezed my thighs around your head harder. I never caused you nearly as much pain as I did pleasure. But you paid me back in both.

8.

I like boys who taste like winter.
his fingertips venture across my exposed skin. 
with each touch, I feel a chill, a spark,
a bite.
he makes the tip of my nose pink and the color rise in my cheeks.
he whispers, you are not delicate.
I wonder how he knows, but I do not need to wonder long.
because winter is harsh, unyielding,
callous.
yet here I am, waiting.
the next avalanche will come.
it will not bury me.
he’s right, I am not delicate; I have conjured storms too.
there are worlds within ourselves that the other must never touch,
but we do so anyway.
enveloping each other in brumal wrath,
bare skinned, 
bare boned.
I fear we may shatter when we touch.
and then,
like an early spring melts the soiled snow, 
his lips soften when they mold to mine.
and I 
feel
warm.

9.

holding you is like the fluttering of tired eyelids

light

and heavy, all at once

an irresistible surrender I can’t help giving into

together, we dream

together, we create

entire worlds neither of us could’ve imagined alone

when I wake I fear I will not remember,

so half asleep I reach for you,

instinctively you pull me closer

I can hear you

humming in your sleep,

whispering my name

over & over & over & over

I think to myself,

“no, no,

I could never forget this”

10.

I love the way you lure the laughter out of my mouth.

a symphonic composition,

you tell me, “this is a soundtrack we could build a life to.”

with the slightest movement of your hand you conduct the desire through me.

I follow you, in time, matching heartbeat to heartbeat.

how long until it stops?

“shhh,” you whisper as if you’ve read my mind.

you probably have.

“stay, here in it, with me.”

I nod, I smile,

here comes that laughter again.

my entire being shouting,

encore,

encore,

encore.

11.

I’m not sure what Heaven is like

but I imagine

it’s reminiscent of the way you’d quietly open my bedroom door,

shedding all your winter layers

in the effervescent glow of my television.

slipping under the sheets,

curving your body around mine.

your longing for me

pouring out of your skin.

a sacred transference.

an eternal unity.

a primordial inner calling,

much older than us, taking over.

unable to sense any separation,

we’d ascend as a soulful ensemble

in a loving, all-knowing safety.

I imagine Heaven

is something like that.

11:11

On By blsh2 Comments

Remember as a kid you would catch 11:11 on a clock and make a wish? I used to do it a all the time in school, but couldn’t say I’d caught much of it lately. Just every once in a blue moon I’d glance over at a clock and smile at the 4 repeating numbers. It’s been a different story for the past ten days. For the past ten days, every day I have caught 11:11. On my cell phone, on a wall clock, on my laptop, on my work device–doesn’t matter what it’s on or where I am, I catch it. The first few days I didn’t think anything of it. Just figured it was a happy coincidence. A cute little reminder of what it felt like to be young, to wish and believe it would happen. But what I failed to recognize immediately is that it was less of a coincidence and more of a deliberate sign.

I haven’t posted in two months. I haven’t written in two months. I’ve been dealing with some issues that completely took my attention away from my creativity. That was my first mistake. No matter what happens in life–the weird mishaps, the unexpected turns, the devastating realizations–never let them take you away from your passion. Promise yourself that, because in your passion, in what you love is where you belong. You draw strength from it just by pursuing it and when you have that, you can face any of the strange unanticipated things that happen. I had forgotten that. But I remember now.

In numerology, angel numbers specifically, 1111 has a meaning. I didn’t know the meaning, but when the Universe throws it in your face for almost two weeks, you find out. 1111 means you’re manifesting what you want and you’re manifesting it quickly. The Universe is on your side with bringing your thoughts into actuality. For those of you familiar with tarot, think of The Magician (card number 1). Even if you’re not familiar with tarot, the Magician is a card of action, success & innovation. He can bring things into fruition with his magic, but only when he commits to what he really wants. The Magician encourages us to focus on what ignites our passion and will it into life before our eyes.

So what the hell does any of this have to do with me? Or you, as a matter of fact, because I am writing this for you just as much as I am writing it for myself. 1111 tells us that we are powerful. We are constantly creating our reality. When we have thoughts, be they positive or negative, be they spoken or kept inside, we are putting that energy out there. We are always manifesting, and when we do it that it is critical for us to focus on what we desire, not what we fear. Manifesting from our fears, our insecurities, is what creates our disappointment, our heartache. It brings out those destructive repetitive patterns because we haven’t learned to come from a place of positivity, hope, light.

It sounds easy enough, doesn’t it? It should be easy to come from a positive place when it comes to attracting what we want most in life. So what makes it so difficult?

The belief that we don’t deserve it. I’ve earned, I’ve been given and I have created incredible opportunities in this life so far. Yet at times, now especially, I struggle greatly with believing I deserve good things. I doubt myself. I feel insecure. I feel small. I feel shame. I feel like I’m not enough. I question everyone’s motives. I question myself. I dream of the wildest, most wonderful things. I imagine the most generous, kindest, grandest, enduring of loves. But why would it actually happen for me?

Well, it will happen. Because I am worth it, and you are worth it too. It will happen because we want it to. We will it to. We wish it to, and both consciously & subconsciously we will take the steps to achieve it.

11:11.

I want you to believe you deserve good things. I want you to have the courage to go after them. I want you to know that your desires are calling out to you just as loud as you are calling out to them. And when we both finally get to where we are meant to be (where we deserve to be), we will smile and laugh about how we thought it would never happen.