Mindblown: a blog about philosophy.

Tis a chasing after wind, said solomon, chasing his god In my poesy, arise goddess, on religious crest, ask in fire-breath, Swallow every single morsel of vanilla sexist, that oppose her, I, And domme morrigan, lie control female flesh, men and their Tracy’s, will she smite them in their evil, and hate? Nay, goddess Raises…

Life’s a merry battle Life’s mostly laughter, up and down, but in hands of public humiliation The bad come after, mad in death throes of antilaughter all the way The ramparts of their support, choke on false jest, and vanish, they’re absurd I say, Yknow in you I found an enchantress, I said, It’s not…

A puzzle a dancer made, I found it to you, A simplex view, not just a piece of others Words, songs, videos, pictures, or dreams, nay, But a dancing creativity, pieced together, like a few notes, Found, played, rearranged, into some new work Like a jazz love song, in social media, domme morrigan, Beauty alive…

Cuz I was thinking of how I would tell you, of how my walk Went today, and I saw you, and I thought how do I convey, that it’s All around you, thought, I mean what would you think, heart, When I think what you would say, if I told you on my walk Het…

When my domme morrigan appears, when she smiles, Like mona lisa, or smugly, sitting on her pussy, bends her head Slightly like some nun in compassion, or looks angry Something I’ve done, growls, or scared of me, even, In uncontrolled lust, and her asking God why lately, I ask My domme morrigan, why she does,…

To climb hibiscus flowers to the moon, find what there’s More beautiful than anything we  conjure Yes, ramjet, that’s what your wings were built for And because of you, my heart’s present here, Alive as any human ever can be, singing mid-air, Because you’re truer, you, ramjet, than what I conjecture

A little while ago, before this rendition, I put Itchcycoo Park, in facebook, a post to you As tho it my heart were, warmed by thought Of your smile, loving you, coulda been the words Posted on music, gotten high for sorrow, my Thought of your smile, here, there, now Itchycoo Park, or tomorrow, my…

Every moment: I die to domme morrigan.   each frame.   they could frame.   in my digital soul.  the torture of image.   lostness of mirage.     I hear again phantoms of night.    when I come back to sound I hear frames that echo her name to me.    of love.    I love her.    back!    the frame in her name.   …

I got to accept bdsm A political question Asked how’m I an anarchist now? Well, my new politicians said Very very anarchist Cause you choose to Give up yourself And myself I accept My own nature bright I want dark phantasy I want discipline I want it hard Savage Wild with delight, Wherein    my…

A box played with love, contains harmonies locked inside her who rules I always thought they wanted a box for us queers, to bring out what? My uncle loves to think outside the box, I think he’s made a box himself Out of my artistry, shifted from one box to the next, never fitting in…