Unbound.

My Movie.wmv - YouTube

The Star Gates of the Dream-time. Adaya Marcel.

The Star Gates of the Dream-Time.
Adaya Marcel.


I have passed.  I felt a POP in my solar plexus, and a gigantic whoosh of air; exactly like my memories as a child when we were on another road trip to another fictitious promised land.  I loved hanging my head out the window and being flattered and caressed by the air rushing by; a trillion bitty particles crowding against my outer shell. 

When you get hit by the positive pressure of a semi-truck rushing towards you at 70 miles an hour, air being pushed by a fully loaded 18 wheeler carrying 80,000 pounds of insistence, plus the force of our 58 Ford with mother never driving under 75 coming from the opposite direction, the force and turbulence takes your breath away; like a category 5 hurricane on wheels. Maybe a semi is what sent me over to this side of non-reality. There is nothing semi about this place I find myself in after the POP, this is solid, dense black beyond measure.


That is where I am now...no breath...no positive pressure coming from me at all, nothing to grasp onto or to displace by my presence, no air..no room for air. I stand dumbfounded; at least I think I am standing. I cannot even see as I think I left my eyeballs on the other side. What a place to be trapped. But wait, this is not a trap, since I have no body, nothing can hold me here. As soon as I think this, I start to see a doorway. Only the outline is visible, and inside is the darkest void I could ever imagine.


It startles me to realize that a female shape has begun to materialize beside the doorway. The hair on my non-body stands at attention as I realize that only part of Her is a human form. I see that She has the head of a dragonfly, and the four flickering iridescent wings tell me She can be on me in a nano-second. She is a formidable hunter and She warns me that I have no chance of escape. “SAY MY NAME OR YOU WILL PERISH! I will eat every part of you that remains! Say my name or be forever extinguished!”


I am trembling, quaking and I sense beads of frozen sweat coalescing my nothingness. She has grown to the size of a ancient Redwood tree and I a carpenter ant to Her. I am merely a snack, just one measly tostito. She starts to glow, pulsating green, and as She brightens Her light strikes the surrounding space and I see that we are in a gigantic temple covered with hieroglyphs; floor, ceiling, columns, even the air is filled with intelligence. This is much older than what we call history, these words are from the beginning of all time. Maybe these carved words created time.


......SAY MY NAME!” I am snapped back to present timelessness and the fearsomeness of her. “Dragonfly Woman,You dominate and predominate the ethereal realms of existence!”..I scream back at Her. “You are the Ankh of forgiveness that bleeds rivers of abuse out of existence. Out of me floods the carmine past, surrender fills the holes. Let me accept your fearlessness with a trusting heart and I will consciously set my victim-ness free. May I pass?” She steps aside but I have to go past Her so close that I purposefully brush against Her wings and collect some of Her stardust to show to myself that at least I have a spirit body that assimililates light.  I enter the darkness of the next room illuminated by her gossamer.


At the center of the room stands a black hole shaped like a miscreation, an interbreeding of Heckel, Jeckel and Jackel, but can devour like a cannibal of restless, careless inscrutability.  She menacingly smiles a toothy grin. She will eat my soul before She allows me to go through the next door, I know this the second I see Her obsidian eyes and Her canine snarl. She is resplendent in Her moonless midnight embodiment, but Her fangs and claws do not fool me. I stand frozen, trying desperately to see a way past Her. She smells like lotus oil and carrion; sanctified sacrifice permeates Her like smoke from the moldering fires of some flesh-eating buffet table for the diabolical netherworld; I recoil from the reeking destruction on Her breath.


She quickly glides towards me as if a feather on the wind, but as She approaches, She starts to break up into a billion particles while completely encircling me; above me, behind me, beneath me. I cannot move, I cannot speak, I am in a terror so deep that whatever is beating in my chest will explode presently and I will cease to exist. These particles of Her become Ravens, all snapping their beaks as they start to peck away at my essence, tearing away at my spirit trying to get inside of me. They are all cawing, “Say My Name!”


....“Lady who Transforms the night, You are Bewilderness, built in the city of powerlessness and you have had your astonished trees ripped out by their roots. Your Ravens now roost in ghost trees and Anubis carries your sacrificial alter on his grateful shoulders. Lady, Your name is Freedom. Mistress, your name is Serenity and Resurrection. Mother, you plant clean seeds in the bittersweet soil of anguish, and You are the Harvester of misery’s bounty. May I pass?”


I walk through her murder of predators who have turned into puffs of black null and am in a forest. I am the forest. An eagle flies through me; lands on my heart and I become the Eagle. Eagle Woman am I. Angelic winged lover who soars above all the guilt and transgressions of being. Intimate incarnate, who blesses the lesson; I am the forest, I am the trees, I am the eagle, I am the insects and the flora. I am Passed, I am there and I am here; I am Everything and I have nothing to fear.

Good Morning, Beauty.

What If?

What If?

Adaya Marcel.

After all the classes I have taken relating to becoming one with the Universe, learning how to love your body through Tantra, Goddess this and God that, yoga, meditation, love others as you would love yourself, UFO, Inner-Terrestrials, Dimensional Beings, and Angels, I still look around and see a world on the brink of destruction.  I look, I listen, I watch, and I hear great intentions, but I see selfishness from too many of us, so myopic that no one even sees that everything is on fire.  Peace is in flames!

I see something that has emerged in the guise of another form of separation, like most organized religions that take money for spirituality given; lies that separate us:  “Just take care of your own little world and everything else will fix itself”.  But the reality is that we are all one interwoven web of life, everything on this living being called Gaia depends, in some way, on everything else.  There is only one sky and one color blood and the way I see it, my choices do make a difference to someone, or something else on the other side of the world.

If I want a jacket with a little bit of animal fur on it and I only want to pay a little bit of money from a store that uses child labor and pays slave wages, will I then also be supporting a practice from China that creates an industry in which all manner of furry mammal is skinned alive to save on the cost of humanely killing them first.  And fake fur is actually dog or cat fur.

If I eat GE or modified food of any kind, I am supporting an industry that is literally changing the DNA of the entire planet, our bodies included, (of special note: two or three generations into the consumption of GE food, sterility in rats and humans is very high)

If I buy an iPad, will I be supporting an industry that basically treats their employees so bad that they had to install suicide prevention nets along the sides of their many high-rise factory buildings to catch the worn out human beings, only to then make them go back to work?  

If I turn a blind eye to all the war that is raging on in our name, will it just go away and not affect me?  I wonder what Pilates exercise I can do, or what kind of multi-grain I can eat to alleviate the horror I will experience when it is my turn later, for not caring now.

If I spend all my time glued to a flat screen TV watching reality-rage TV, will I be telling the world that being wrong is the right way to live?   I look upon the misery of this world and if I choose to not care about anything except my own programmed comfort, am I not complicit in a way that is this generation’s form of subliminal brutality: Apathy.

Now, with all this work we have done on ourselves, all our classes and our experiences, now that we have fixed ourselves, isn’t it about time that we do what we came to do?  We know by now, after all our yoga and our meditation; we know that we are spirits having a human experience, right?  We know what we are capable of.  Why did we spend so much time and money learning about love and peace and yet silently watch as our world goes down in flames?  I think the time has come to actualize our truth.   Our raison ‘d’être with some fava beans and a nice Chianti:  Actualize peace.

Perhaps I don’t know what that truly is, but I do know that our truth is not war, or misery, or cruelty, or gluttony or apathy.  I know that we have the ability to bring all our light together to fill this world with more love than hate, more empathy than apathy, gratitude instead of complaints, and more peace than war.  If we so choose, we could balance out the darkness that is necessary with enough light to make life fair for everyone.   In a heartbeat of unity, if we really wanted it, life could be what it was meant to be….amazing.

I’m just saying….

Love, light and peace,

Denise Adaya Marcel.

Esoteric Goddess: The Thought. Adaya Marcel. Thoughts create th...

Esoteric Goddess:
The Thought.
Adaya Marcel.


Thoughts create th...: The Thought. Adaya Marcel. Thoughts create the next step. Each footfall follows a cerebration and the power of that thought is no m...

Emptiness. Adaya Marcel.

Emptiness.

Adaya Marcel.

I can't feel anything today.

I look in the mirror and I see emptiness

where a usually light filled woman exists.

Trust ransacked, hope plundered,

friendship squandered

and tossed aside like Love is worthless...

my heart is drained of all its contents.

The remnants of a soul of vision

descended into fragmentary hell, her pieces

lay in a slag heap by the side of the road.

I wonder why we humans are so careless

with all things rare and precious.

As if to slap me out of my swan song

the earth just shook, an earthquake rumbled

and I watched my prized possessions

dance on the shelves above my head;

ten seconds can host a change of heart.

Maybe I am only lost

and confused and scared and naked

-  will I forever be on the journey alone

and will anyone ever really understand what I brought.

I don't know where I belong...except in Love's thought.

I don't know how to trust anymore...

except I know that Love is sacred and that sustains me.

I don't know what Love means to others,

And I don't know how to live in between,

I only know how to love. 

I only know how to Love.

I only know Love.

Radiance Humbled. Adaya Marcel.

Radiance Humbled.
Adaya Marcel.

An internal walk-about through

 the doorway of the Dreamtime;
 face to face with my Avatar,

Her tender eyes reflecting a place

of past weakness or pain,

or victimized bargains, 
She wakes me from my nightmare.

All is overcome by Love's driven duty
....honor means everything to me.

I find myself in a place of transformation;

pure blizzard of fearless strength.

I take the dragon head on and shun the con.

Exposing the full breadth, length and depth

of this facade; fear is the Rubicon of the damned.

Armed only with

seven dreams and a butterfly net

I work with brevity

for it tends to alter destiny 

if one lingers too long
at being angry.

 I have experiences to share

that are beyond all keeping;

deep, to the core of the core of the core...

pain mixed with winsome magic

keeps it real enough to be of service 
to show that "victim" really means hero. 

I have become a whirling dervish,

one that whirls with a purpose,
dedication filters out the debris
of collateral destiny.

I lay my life at my Avatar's apex.

No heart can be crumbled,

while it embodies the multicolored Phoenix,

Honor is radiance humbled.

Esoteric Goddess: Glass-Winged Butterflies.Adaya Marcel We surr...

Esoteric Goddess: Glass-Winged Butterflies.Adaya Marcel We surr...: Glass-Winged Butterflies. Adaya Marcel We surrendered our power in the beginning of the persecution of the Goddess- six thousa...

Crystalline Reality.
Adaya Marcel.

We are the nexus betwixt 

the impossible and the credible;

liaison of the tangible and the sublime,

the contact between the miracle and the fact;

between the prison cell and the hand of freedom

lies our beating heart; the center of the helix.  

What I project, I figuratively create.

So, in saying this, may I choose to be

the manifestation of Isis, 

who can winnow out hate
and project forgiveness
and the knowingness that nothing is real
save the love She has for us
and the love we become because of this.
Let me be the hand-maiden of that Love.

May I be the one who carries 
dignity in the palms of my eyes
or on a sliver and gold platter
engraved by  fluorescent sacrifice.

A reflective mirror and witness 
to the unfolding of all probabilities.

May I hold the space for Isis to demonstrate

the ineffable phenomenon of empathy.

I baptize myself in the grotto of Her warrior tears
where Maidenhair ferns grow wild and free;
there I christen my life with the finely aged
compassion that rewards the fearless and the wise.
Crystalline reality....sparkling non-duality: nothing exists, 
except Isis, love, you and perhaps me.

Confusion's Child?

Adaya Marcel.

I walk on the beach at 4 in the morning

not heeding the dangerous warning.

This morning they called me darling,

tonight they call me bitch.

This Goddess that was shown to me 

is a fake and a pervaricator,

She does not remember how truth sings.

She swims in a soup of irrationality, 

seasoned with a bizarre itch;

Her heart refuses its feathery wings;

so....today she calls me bitch.

The fogilicious lights which 

come off of the Motel Twelve,

looking back towards the shore

at Wizard's hour, neon illuminations

fill all of my illusions with power.

I belong to no one, but I am Confusion's child.

I...I...I  Am!, I say with abandon.

I AM!  I call it to the ocean,

I scream it at the weird man 

who still stands atop the stairs

...watching, singing, and oh so softly crying for me.

I know who he is more than

I know what woman is.

My heart explodes at the realization

that I feel safer with a man standing in the fog

than I do with friends I love with all of my reliance.

Who are my sisters? What do they request?

Who are my protectors, where is my rest?

Still and all, somehow....I am grateful.

I am, after all, Confusion's Child

Sekhmet Slays. Adaya Marcel.

Sekhmet Slays. 

Adaya Marcel.

Words are powerful beasts;
sharp as obsidian ceremonial knives
 the High Priests used to perform human sacrifice.
What forfeiture will the Piper demand
from the thoughtless words at our command.
Our power does not come by force,
but from kindness and awareness.
Sekhmet slays the thoughtless,
because she knows this, we all know this.

Wantonly, monotonously,  "ad nauseumly",
back through infinity billions have suffered
the slings and arrows, the lexicon of brutality
that become the walls of our Rubicon,
our boundaries of impossibility.
Sekhmet NEVER calls her students stupid.
She slays the thoughtless words that cause deformity.

Thoughtless words rip the wings off butterflies.
They kill the spontaneous combustion of life
and take away a spirits magic.
Stupid - murders the innocence.
Ugly - massacres all fairness.
Hate - hobbles us in shackles of drastic choices.
Sekhmet knows this and ask us to use our inside voices.

She knows that what you project you get.
She can only protect us if we protect
our companions on this journey
from our thoughtlessness;
and from their thoughtlessness.
Sekhmet slices through the connexicon;
the connector of confusion.
She knows all things that are beyond all keeping.
Sekhmet slays the escapist.

She did not come to be a wishful thinker,
She came to be a conscious doer.
She did not come to crush, but to uphold.
She did not come to blind, but to lead.

This experience is not what I can give to you,
but what you can give to the phenomenon.
Sehkmet slays the mute swan.

Lady Empathy. Adaya Marcel.

Lady Empathy.

Denise Adaya Marcel.

Lady Empathy dances alone

to a diametric beat;

a rhythmic emanation

from a heart made of compassion

and fierce absolution

because She can accidentally see

the innocence that no one else sees

and no one wants to go where She can go.

Lady Empathy is the crescent moon

and its reflection cradling 

the eternal/external depths of despair;

channeling the wounded and mirroring 

the orb that contemplates the eternal flame.

She rejects eternal shame

and calls out...."Bring out your dead

and I will replace them with moonbeams."

Lady Empathy feeds a broken heart with justice

and lifts a spirit to its highest pinnacle.

At her breast She suckles all injury with miracles 

and paves a road of safely laid choices

and dignity and entices the crippled to walk;

to talk of possibilities, not deformities.

Lady Empathy is Grace in action.

She is a chain reaction to the muted oracle.

She is the witness and applause for the invisible.

No one goes unseen in her heart

or unloved in her presence.

Lady Empathy is Love's manifestation.

Remember My Light Body. Adaya Marcel.

Remember My Light Body.

Adaya Marcel.

 Consciousness:

formlessness,

timelessness...everythingness;

every single nothingness.
Without the thought, who can dance?

We are the locution of a Cerebration. 
A Universal Sentiment brought us into existence,
it is our thoughts which keep us here.

Correspondence:

Empathetic implications
change everything,

compassion equals integration.

We are Logos 
metamorphosed
into a manifestation
of walking beauty...
grace unfolds from Grace.

Vibration:

exhalation and absolution...

revelation of our small "d" divinity.

An oscillation of positivity...or negativity,
the choice is always ours;
exaltation or ego?
My mind determines my destiny.
Victims of our masters, 
or masters of our call to duty?
.

Polarity:

arcdegree of the inverse,
a completely co-mutual co-opposition.
Love and hate are fraternal twins
in opposite dimensions
of the spectrum of emotion; 
reverberating light...or immense density.
Diametrical terminus of the indeterminate.

Rhythm:
regular recurrence
drumming out the heart beat of time.
It is movement that stimulates 
stagnate mediocracy
by frothing up a frenzy of "yes".
Yes speeds everything up,
avowal is optimistic manifest destiny
that allows for the dance 
you came here to recreate.

Cause and Effect:
opinion...consequence;
ad nauseam, ad infinitum, ad hoc.

Gender:
splendor in the grass,
the propagation of the next
generation of cause and effect;
using rhythm via polarity, 
attracted by vibration
corresponding our feelings into action,
born from our consciousness.

Voila' this must be heterodoxy
...heresy, how dare I describe
the miracle of life this way?

If we are to believe what we are told

then surely we are doomed to live

within a state of sightlessness....
our saddest, densest state of beingness.

We are not metastasized exiles
in our own experience, 
created for derision
indoctrinated into division...
 nor born from sin or snips and snails 
and puppy-dog tails...
but surely we are vibrant event horizons
born from unimaginably Devoted Passion.

"Why choose mindlessness

only to be irresponsible with bliss?"
I wonder aloud, then talk in my head 
..."instead I should reinvent

the winged epiphany called freedom
by remembering my light body.
Who forgot to teach me of this?"

I woke up this second...

bloody essence...serious factor of fear, 
I flashed from light into this human infant form.... 

 two seconds from now

I will wake up again

and there will be no more bleeding,
but my heart will have aged and
I will weep for the memory
of my chemiluminescence.

I'm Just saying. Adaya Marcel.

I'm Just Saying...I Love You!

Adaya Marcel.

There are many heads to the one beast

who feasts off all our suffering.

The beast is apathy.

The beast is a comfort zone that anesthetizes you

and gives you permission to not care

and blackens a heart made for radiance.

Apathy allows tragedy's cadence

to blast day and night

as screaming babies die

and mothers struggle to find their breath

as they wallow in their own children's blood.

We watch American Idol as screaming babies die.

There are countless miracles in our world,

but until we see and address injustice;

that is always caused by our indifference

and carried out by idiopathic sycophants...

until we know our numbness gives monsters permission

to kill babies, we will never truly

be able to experience Nirvana.

Until we emphatically know that we are all one

and valuable in the eyes and heart of the Ultimate Creation,

we can never be wholly spiritual, kind or even human.

Magnificently Placid. Adaya Marcel.

Magnificently Placid.

Adaya Marcel.

Magnificently placid, I stand in the doorway.  

This one leads to death, but not the typical death;

the golden falcon death. 

The beautiful death where you are fully alive 

and completely receptive.  

The beautiful death that causes you to exist in gratitude; 

nothing lost in a day spent.

I was crammed with misery;

I was so full that there was no room for joy. 

I was living in hate for all those who should have loved me, 

but would not see my shine. 

I had no space for all the gifts

that the Goddess called me in to bear,

I am the gift bearer, but I was full of grief

and could not do my job.

It was easy for me to die,

I would kill my body. 

I would kill my body. 

But now I kill my pain;

like one dispossessed from sickness. 

Magnified by powers of ten, 

perhaps because of my intimate knowledge of death,

I now metamorphose into such a place

of graceful respect of the sanctity 

of this incarnation that I chose.  

I came to become the light.  

Regardless of the strength of the darkness 

I remained the light and vibration and motion

and I know now that I chose this hardness

to become softness.  

I created the death, 

so to cherish the life.  

I am the manifestations of my own choices,

so to honor my power

and exist within this kiss of Isis.

Dust-Devils Of Time. Adaya Marcel.

Dust-Devils of Time.

Adaya Marcel.

My legs, frozen in the quagmire of indecision,

tread deeply in confusion and transfusion;

knee-deep in a propensity to sleep,

I am a freak of time.

I alight with the moon

retire with the monsoon;

I am infested with "too soons" 

and their residual doom.

Who is this creature,

what is her nature and

departure time from mystery's station?

That she cannot feel the walls of infinity

shows She is no longer rational,

but is perhaps delusionally free.

How can she see her way clear to clarity

if her eyes are turned towards

the corner of the universe?

Who will be her nurse?

Who can quench her thirst

and propel an ocean of understanding

to quell her despising the lack of bonding

between all Earthlings

when she gallops away on her hearse?

Who will be her nurse?

Who else, but the inverted universe

cradling a heart born in reverse;

the bells of humanity are sounding with a typical peal,

the nurse, the goddess, the fire, the water, the seal

of compassion are as real as a dust devil in the desert.

Dust-devils of time

 will peel your skin off if you stand too near,

but what is it.....is it really there;

is it the stuff picked up, or is it just the wind?

Yes the light of Truth dispels

all raging thirst, at first, and then 

quiets the squealing child;

the corner of the Universe can

precociously thrill the hungry mind

and give a heart permission

to be a violet wildflower.