Wordless Goddess

Sometimes, words just complicate things. What if our brains could communicate directly with each other, bypassing the need for language?

Yes, what if we were able to communicate without verbiage, words or all that yelling at each other? Like Jodi Foster, telepathically, in Escape To Witch Mountain, or R2D2 in Star Wars(c’mon, right)?


We could be the heros in all the great movies. Using our greatest power, which is also somehow our biggest weakness, both secrets, to do good in the World. But only good, so you better be able to tell the difference.


“When I’m older can I buy Grand Theft Auto, Mom?” my son asks as we are driving to his soccer practice, via a quick In and Out drive thru, from dropping little sister at violin at the community center on the opposite end of town. Grand theft automobile is what big oil is taking home from me, not at the pump mind you, to travel to Tahiti and Vail and all those other favorite vaca/work spots of the tea-conservative monied.

“Son, do you know what is wrong with it, why I don’t want you to play it?” I mean more than just the unrestrained human disparity, and glorification of gun-violence? Yea, he thinks so, but really he doesn’t get it like most men, but I will teach him about misogyny.

“It’s the way they portray women, Son, like they are just some cheap object for their sexual taking, or worse killing; basically it is a hatred of women. You would never want to treat a girl, or a woman, like she is worthless, to her face or to your buddies, never. And you don’t want to perpetuate that attitude, to mischaracterize your mother, sister, aunt, daughter or anyone’s value in that way – specially for your own gain or profit, like some sort of dealer in women. We have names for people like that.


Mom did you know ISIS is using it to recruit?

Using what, honey?

ISIS is using Grand Theft Auto to recruit new members.

Where did you read this?

On FOX, he says but begins looking quizzical.

You’re watching FAUX NEWS, Honey?!

I like to watch the military stuff on Fox, he says. But to give our parenting due credit, it is not The Fox News, just Fox, like the Simpsons and Cosmos and other real quality family viewing.


I had the idea before, that we could do this, without touching except for our foreheads. Squared off to you, leaning in, maybe only our noses would brush as we close our eyes, and you touch my hand and I grab yours back to steady my trembling quack rising up in my body you breathe. Nothing more than our heads together, looking into your mind our eyes see as one. The urge to taste you get closer, feel your everything inside me, persists. It started simply with a ‘what if’ it could happen, sharing ourselves inside-out with just touch and breath-brought full blown truth. It actually CAN happen, my intuition knew before they hooked those kids up, and they didn’t even touch, just like us. I don’t need any internet transcranial magnetic stimulation porn, wifi or otherwise, just breathe me in complete with your touch, your mind, my love is real; let me tell you how to put your hands on me.


Researchers say the accuracy among pairs varied between 25 and 83 percent. So some brains are more well-suited for each other, like mine to your pieces, but think of the potential for wifi-ing or rewiring our injured brains. Or fixing all the people like this in the World:

Misogynist Gun-Bully who the religious neo-right uses to instill fear in us all, but somehow, his ilk and more believe the black president is to be more feared. And really sexism and racism and all don’t exist anymore, not here or in middle America seething with tension, Ferguson, right? But I am done talking about those who have sold their souls to the profiteers. Lets figure out how to bring about something good, because really I believe we are going to make it, we have to believe that, or it is all over.


I see it in your heart. At first i couldn’t identify it, but early in the morning hours of the harvest moon, with only my thoughts of long legs and strong abs, I knew. Your shoulders could bear the weight of all of my body. Like this crisis of consciousness that seems to be suffocating so many beautiful voices, where are you in me? Do you feel it when I look into your eyes, if I think it really hard, my breasts firm with your knowledge, or are you lost in my woods, deep and moist with tears.


After I saw you, I realized it wasn’t the first. You’ve been living carelessly not using your goddess-given intuition. Except maybe when you’re writing, we can see it clearly. I need to see more of it, feel it, you on me. Your eyes were guarded perhaps, but I saw laughter and carnal power and man, I want it. Did you think I was star-struck, a beautiful starlet, explosions could happen. Are you hearing me? Have you seen it, the smallest of small things, the greatest of stories, the particle that connects us all forever, until of course its gone, completely dissolved, disappeared from Earth.


Until then all what if’s are off, just think of what we can do, touch, taste, love Me.


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