three headed haiku

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what they say is true
that you can never go home
this urge to step back

a bizarre longing
to linger bound in embrace
naive and broken

awoken startled
still warm from the breath of sleep
unconstrained, I howl


Wounds of the Cheshire

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I have told my chronicle of secrets through fable and balladry.

-painted them to my skin
with watercolour defiance.

we often scrawl about our scars in riddles,
rationalizing scrutiny
through layers upon layers of thought

-care for them like flowers growing on the warlands of our hearts

AppleCat Confessions: Not a Never Nude


I’ve gotten to the point in my life that when I’m threatened with “leaked nudes” I just kind of giggle.

Oh damn.
Some people might find out…. that under my clothes, I’m naked! (all the time, every single time I wear clothes!). And they also might find out that – on occasion I feel sexy and perhaps sometimes I like to share that (noting now that yes a long while back with less deserving folks).
People might be find out I am a fan of all of my bits, poetic creative brains, big fat heart, and all the pinkish olive bits of my physique that make up an anatomy.

Every atom, nipple, follicle, soft curve and sharp angle.
Let me tell you, living in this world – that is not an easy thing to achieve. Even now my appreciation wavers on occasion.
In previous years I was at war with myself – tearing my body to shreds -both metaphorically and literally- I stood on the front lines of the battle field that was me. There was no glory to be won.

As it stands, I will never run for any sort of Congress.
I am okay with this as when the shit hits the fan, I’ve been practicing my Queening of a Post Apocalyptic world skills for pretty much my whole life.
And when I am Queen nudity -in all it’s forms- as long as everyone involved is consenting will be celebrated; not used a tool of shame or control.

If you like to be naked this does not discredit you as an Artist, a Business person, or a Human being.

Every single body has it’s beauty. It is art, how cool for you, to be a walking, talking, living piece of art. That is something pretty special.
So yes, I confess. Sometimes I am naked. It’s true, at least once or twice a day.

Be nude if you like, sometimes i like to be; sometimes I don’t – you’re the only one that should ever control your own nudity.
Dance nude if you like, in front of others, by yourself, for monetary gain or just for fun – you’re the only person who should have any say in whether this is right or wrong
Document your nudity if you like, to share with others if they desire as such, or just for you to look back upon when you’re 80 and think
“Hell Yeah Younger me, thats a fine *insert body part of choice here” – You’re the primary owner, distributer and handler to your own body and no one else’s.

Treat it as Sacred, as it is your Temple, the Altar to your Soul – the flesh of which houses you – any person that comes rapping at it’s front door should be so lucky as to be welcomed in for sanctuary.

No shame, no fear, only love. Such is the way.

#mindbomb #NotANeverNude #Truth #Pride #Survivor


The Queen of Fire impeached

Digging deep and with inquisitive humility.

Anger in the Feminine, in Women, in me; fist up, voice loud, at par with the boys; no need to be saved, fire burning – far too hot to ever get close, too hot to hurt – smouldering we incinerate ourselves. Why? This Fire was once our ally.

Because we are tapped in directly at the heart in to our worlds wonder, it’s love and it’s anguish – and we are sorrowful for this.
-But we have been betrayed by our culture, taught that sadness or expression of grief – which is in part our gift to the world; tears for those who cannot, or do not know how- this we are taught is weakness; that our tears are equal to defect – a burden on those closest to us; a truth unwelcomed.
Asudden we become what we fear – told we are hysteric and labeled with the bane of every Woman

“She is Crazy”

So we denounce our gift. The Divine Queen of Fire impeached.

We become angry; it inhabits the place of our empathy. We become angry because being angry is the only way we can feel strong and sad at the same time. We cope by abandoning part of what makes us Human.

and we burn – so hot; we ignite ourselves, our love, our world; this anger becomes a great destroyer – Assassinating kinship, eradicating balance.
There very well may be nothing more destructive out there; as the cautionary tale goes Hell Hath no fury like a Woman scorned.

With respect – I for one, am exhausted. This fire takes blood I am tired of being The Nuclear Woman. I am tired of living in self exile, tired of validating my own crimes of desertion.

Being a Woman in service to life needs no Authorization; and so I walk on again – perhaps for the very first time.

Art Credit:


Contemplating New Years Resolutions;

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First one that comes to mind; during the aftermath of global strife and mass spread fear and shame – I let this utterly encompass me, it surrounds my every thought.
My resolution becomes clear as day; the exact thing that holds me back – stop beating yourself up for not being the change quick enough, stop beating yourself up for not being able to help everyone; stop looking at your achievements as “Good, but not good enough”

Tough self love is a necessary skill, but over time and with excessive use at some point it becomes an abusive relationship. I note with humility over this contemplation that I often boarder-line that type of contumelious connection with myself.

Why should anyone accept behaviour from one’s self towards themselves that they wouldn’t accept from other people?
When Catastrophe inflicts it’s detonation on the world I am far too quick to take it in to my body – nauseous and aching to feel in full it’s harrowing grief – and I am often foolish enough to try and feel it out alone; almost as if I was paying penance. Along with callously pushing away whatever person is altruistic enough to offer me solace. Why? Because I have convinced myself I am not worth it.

In these instances I am filled with a disheartened “What’s the point” mentality, one of which eats away at my inspiration and I am not accustomed to digesting with skillfulness. I see little lives change at some of the work that I do; they express with humbling adoration the effect I have had, but the work never gets easier – in fact it gets further strenuous: a dream that so much relies on – still homeless, still surrounded with such uncertainty.
And what of the rest of the world?

How do the little lives go on to prevent bombings, shootings, hatred – how do the little lives -now less laden with shame and guilt- these little dancers how do they stop the killing? How is it that I can put my full everything in to the world – and still have the cries of anguish echo in my ears from miles away, years away – I still feel them, and it hurts. God damn it hurts.

and then I become angry, and sorrowful, and I take it out on myself because it
“Wasn’t Enough”

But I need to stop that, if even for the sake of those who care for me, they should not have to watch me squirm when I perform emotional self flagellation. It’s not fair to them, or to me.
I need to remember that yes on the inside I am a fierce kind DragonKitty, but on the outside no matter how big or small I feel internally- I am a wee Human Girl, and I am doing everything I can; which is (I can say now because I am not at this moment swimming in narcissistic self loathing) a-fucking-lot.

The hell with Gregorian New Years; my resolution can start today.
Mya, take it easy on yourself.


Exercises in Compersion and Non Primary recognition.


Recently I have been contemplating exercises of abolishing the segregation that comes with what some would label “couple privilege”; as well of empowered ways to cultivate Compersion – on ones own terms.

To start, What is Compersion? In layman’s terms:

“The feeling of joy associated with when a loved one connects/loves/shares pleasure/is playful with another”

Caveat –
First and foremost for those who struggle with cultivating Compersion. You are the majority, and it is totally normal to feel both Jealousy and Compersion all at once; they are not mutually exclusive and may never be.
For instance, it is quite possible that I personally may always feel jealousy (and man oh man on occasion do I ever) within my core partnership and any of my relationships (even the platonic ones!) – but to sit down and give voice to the jealousy that stews inside, releasing it to other perspective/s, acknowledging it, dissecting it to it’s root, learning from it and then moving on is one of the most important routes to Compersion that there is.

So I am working on activities/exercises on how to personally gather compersion. Some of them are simple and solitary, and some of them involve another’s presence.

Example of one I found helpful:

In the presence of my Core Partner I sat beside him, asked for a piece of paper; then side by side and unbeknownst to him I began to handwrite a sentence or three on each connection he has made during our time together.
These sentences described why I was grateful he had met and connected with each of them individually – I will admit that with writing one or two of them it was not easy -as with any alternative relationship structure- there is generally a certain amount of unskillfulness; which yes caused wounding on both parts. That being said I was able to find something to be grateful for even with those of whom had left a bad taste in my mouth; and those who didn’t? I gained a further appreciation for.

Once done, I turned to my partner and gifted him the writings. A tangible gift that could be revisited; one laden and crafted with love and acceptance, one that I had hoped would release some of the culturally instilled guilt and shame on his part; and also ended up helping me gain a deeper understanding of universal love, a courage for expressing my personal boundaries and a diminishing of the former perception of what I may have once (and may once again) see as a “Threat”.

I believe this brought not just us closer together but the community of which we are in attempts to nourish.

Second Caveat: Just a note to remember for those that desire their partner/s to have more Compersion, the matching component to compersion is compassion.

Person #1: I feel joy that you connected with person #3, I love you
Person #2: I am grateful for your expression and know it’s sometimes not easy for you when I connect with others, I love you.
(meanwhile person #3 is stoked not to be the target of any conflict or guilt)


AND also here is another short example of a practice surrounding personal recognition and appreciation of Non Primary Connections.

Shortly after the Love School in Oakland I chose on my own accord to write a Haiku to each of my non primary lovers that I had made connections with within the duration of my Core Partnership – These – for the sake of the intention of the practice- were not addressed to “One night Stands” or strictly carnal endeavours (so with respect personally this made my list a fair amount shorter than it would have been if I would have included the “others”) – these were address to those of whom I have constructed a tender friendship with and continue to savour said friendship (regardless if it continues to be physical or not).

Haikus are interesting ways of elucidation; I find given my tendency to write and write and write that they provided me a simple short to the point structure of which to focus a – if even in that moment of time – way of expression and that in its self is rather cathartic and beautiful. Minimalisticness at it’s best.

Once I posted these to my blog I was able to read and reflect on how special these people are and how grateful I am for their unique presence in my life. I have not even showed these to them or anyone else, save the few people that follow my blog. The reason for this is because it’s not about ME getting recognition via my writings – it’s about me personally acknowledging them.

This provided a greater appreciation not just for the people of whom I wrote about, but for each the sublime individual that we all are. Each a exceptional anomalous gift to the world and to each other – in whatever the context.

SO theres my share for the day, a wee bit of perspective in to my mind and hearts work. Perhaps you have a practice to share as well?


to those that stay


Curious Creature
a parched imagination
your beauty shines on


Walking his Shadow
A man, abound in kind warmth
swiftly learns to chew


Tall, Quiet and Strong
Met within the platitude
Flooding between us


Fell from the Left Brain
Emotions as his Burden
As so is any Gift


Thick Skin, Softer Soul
Strums, his guitar gently moans
stone-faced, he strides on


Ever Wandering
Always on the cusp of self
Be fearless, Be Free


I am not the Woman who handed you the Apple (and if I was, so what?)


I am not your Projection
I am not your paper bag princess
I am not your Goddess incarnate
I am not a Hell bitch, hell bent on ruining you
I am not your Messiah; your saviour from whatever doldrum you’ve landed yourself into
I am not your Projection
I am not the womb of which will give your life significance
I am not your whore, your slut, or your temple priestess
I am not the girl to proclaim “fuck the world” with
I am not the girl who will save you
I am not your Projection
I am not your skin to roll in, your pretty trophy tigress
I am not your test tube Tragedy
I am not your Manic Pixie Dream Girl
I am not the best thing thats ever happened to you, nor am I the worst
I am not your Projection

I am not your distraction

I am the one that came before the Apple
I am a Wild Woman, one foot in the world of imagination; one in the palpable world we live in
I am a Sensual creature, that looks beyond just sex (but still enjoys it)
I am silly, I am a very Silly Woman
I am broody
I am a Guardian of Life, and a Temple Priestess amidst MY OWN prerogative
I am a fierce bad ass that will love till her heart stops
I am a little bit broken
I am neither here nor there
I am often deep in thought, and I take time to get to know, I like this about me
I am made of stories and myth
I am an artist
I am an activist
I am a facilitator
I am a mother, and a lover and a daughter

I am a Woman

And that is all.

– AppleCat

Art Credit:


the regalement

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We poets are the tastiest of folk; just ask any au courant…..poet.
Free range Organic, and fed a strict diet of artistic integrity and cheap Pinot noir.

Soft but dangerous hearts: marinated in hopeful tragedy; or perhaps tragic hope. Garnished with cryptic pretentiousness…. I mean soulful peripateticism…. I mean absolute premeditated pseudo benevolence (yeah that’s it).
Serve with dismal jaded truth as your beverage; yes it’s a bitter drink but it’s an acquired taste.

At last finish with fantastical escapism as your dessert wine; when you are full, continue drinking.


One year ago today


I sleep with my window open; the sound of the city comforts me; especially when I am sleeping alone. I woke up this morning rain drops lightly kissing my forehead; the smell of wet concrete and west coast rainforest seduced my senses; these cool droplets of water waking me gently as if to show me something.

I opened my eyes to the skies offering; the somber grey rain clouds intensified by the golden sunrise behind them. A gold which would never seem so illustrious and lovely if not counterbalanced by the darkness of the clouds.
Nature’s prolific embroidery of dualism.
I see your point, I see your message; I sang a song briefly about it; then forgot it as I drifted back to sleep.

Courage is illuminated by Darkness.

What good is it to curl up in to a little ball and pretend it’s not happening; if I stick my head in the sand my body will still be devoured.
Remember the little things. Those are the ones that stick.