Objectively i step out,
dissecting, inspecting, introspecting,
analysing what is to become of me.

You interpret my words and call it psychology

My main problem is communication,
Inherited from my mother ,
Though i earned a masters in the latter,

My perverseness came from my father
But who could ever blame the parents ?

Since reality is merely a fragment
associated to humans, and i accept that.

Subjectively i dig in , search , meditate and contemplate
i conclude the path is still long ahead however my herritage assures me that i am already there

If Jazz could be committed to ink and paper
assorted with therapy
the results would be similar to my humble poetry


Words Of Harfouchism

So much to take to vibrate in higher states
To liberate what you must pay.
I try to make myself see,
I find emptiness in an invisible sea.
Held, blind, my eyes are not mine,
But the truth is clear ,
But my lips are sealed,
Anyway there is no one to hear.
While i am connected i am leaving symbols maybe someone will read for me my roles.

Words Of Harfouchism

I once wrote to mystify a tale of lifetimes crafted in each night and day. So I pray every night as I live a near-death experience before I sleep, and I wonder is it me or my PTSD?

Souls are precious for the soul-less and mine will never be for sale.

There are a million worlds out there and they are all lived here.
Whatever might be the vows you've taken, by the morning they'll all lose their meaning because the night is harsh, and we suffer to sleep, and in our agony, the evil entities creep onto us with their mischievous deals.

There are a million worlds out there and they are all lived here.
My vision's been recalibrated to see every version of what is real, in threads of colors descending, intertwining with my stomach and neck, like a magical key to a world that emanates consciousness in orange and red.

From the brink of death to love and respect, it is all good when I remember, but what can I do when I forget?  

I sleep hoping that the morning will bring back my optimism


Words Of Harfouchism

The night has confided in me its secrets,
Revealing my paralleled selves.
We are all privileged, being depressed or anxious is hypocrisy itself
So
I've sat and thought ,
Time affirms knowledge
Though i am not my awarness,
I feel wired to a hidden intelligence,
Unfamiliar images, imagination,
Everything is a lesson,
Unlearn it to reach the destination

Gratitude brings bliss and peace of mind
do not underestimate the advantage of being ALIVE


Words Of Harfouchism

The night comes but i am not ready to sleep

In my dream my lover comes in yellow and green

She removes the crown of leaves off her head
Pulls out a leaf and rubbes it against my chest

Then crumbles it into a pipe and place it on my lips
Commanding me to take a big long hit


As i inhale i reach death,

The end has been summoning me
Whispering my name in between breath
Yet life still claims me

And leaves me wanting more
I would smoke the whole crown if i had the choice


Words Of Harfouchism

i write to enlight
myself to survive
the path i chose
to have in life
so i scream
please
who could hear?
or see?
or relate
to the kid who
hides alone
at the break
high on
the steps
that are made
from within
his soul and craved
in an art form
so he could have a home
to bear the storm
coming to reform
the norms
of his instincts
Masked
so he keeps distant
Blind
trying to keep a link with the
Mystics
and it works
since it's
from within  
the layers of the skin
that makes my head spin
every time i remember where i have been.

Words Of Harfouchism

In this dream, that i frequently dream
A tribe of woman Stepping in the pool of creation

Under the radiant moonbeam
my consious mind is absent
I am the imagination

Under the moonlight
the woman's tribe act as one
Dancing
At the pool of creation, witnessed by none
Chanting

Revealing the secret of womanifesting

Are you alone? Womanifest

From the source,
By light and dust
My love is created
In sacrifice and blood

Words Of Harfouchism

THE MYSTERY IN YOUR OBJECTIVES,
YOUR PREFERENCES,

WHO YOU GRANT WHAT AND WHY  INTRIGUES ME

THE LOGIC  BEHIND ENTITLEMENT AND ELIGIBILITY
THE UNNECESSARY SACRIFICES  
THE HOLY AGENDA IN YOUR CHOICES
INTRIGUES ME
 
LIFE IS NOT ALL BEAUTY AND NEITHER ITS CREATOR
YOU NEED EVIL TO BE A SAVIOR

DEVIANT , BENT , SHADY  CLAIMS TO BE DEAF WHEN I SPEAK
I WRITE NOW THAT YOU KNOW HOW TO READ

AND MY WORDS RESONATES TO THE FIFTH DIMENSION
TRIGGERING THE SPIN OF THE WHEEL OF FORTUNES IN MY FAVOR

THE WIND BLOWS , THE WOLF HOWLS , THE SKY CRACKS AND I SMILE
AS THE RAIN FALLS DOWN I REALISE ME AND THE GODS ARE ALIGNED FOR THE FIRST TIME 


Words Of Harfouchism

Sophisticated

Information penetrates in light

Medicated

I no longer believe in your fight

Elevated

Intelligence evolves

Circulated

By conscious thoughts

And a will,
Hard as steal
To divert the fear

Through a creative lens
Expressed in a bleeding pen

Mixed with a salty tear
For the truth to be revealed


Words Of Harfouchism

I too , just like you ,wait for what inspires me.
For if i write , i am consciously taking the responsibility,
To offer leisure activity , and a lesson.
Adaptable to every person , who has a burden ,
Or not
Doesn't matter , because i hit the right spot.

It is a self healing method i earned,
Long ago , i learned not to be concerned
Because,
Energy can neither be created nor destroyed , only transformed.

We are patterned.

Shift your fixation.
Love is attitude and behavior.
You don't need a savior.


Words Of Harfouchism

I can never respect people who take decisions for others,
Omni present child wearing adolecence .

People must never assume they have all the answers
When you play the role of the actors
Idealising philosophies and mystic factors
You judge, aware of your sorrow bearers
And with each sin, a silent look, and a feather
Torn apart to make it clearer
That he whom survives is repressed
While the new trend is depressed
Yet somehow i still picture you in your white dress,
Realigned.
And the voice i talk to you with
Is mine,
but you are not me
So how can i define
The slips and fissures of your subconcsious mind
And thirst to be free.

To each his field and angles
And if hell is heaven
i am still the devil

Words Of Harfouchism

I know i chose the right path
I've seen all the possible outcomes
My sight seized by the hawk
My aim is the aftermath
Laying on the highest rock
The teachings of wisdom will last

Dripping from the skies
Protected by all the curious cries

Onto the souls seeking the holistic prize
And guidance
From the divine creatures in the Heavens

Transmitted to give hope and validate your merit

Until you accept you are a god and live by it

My formless fear has its cycles
And it lives within me like a shadow
My formless fear is a desire
If it was a bird it would be a crow

My perception shifts.

Knwoledge is a trap , so is the art to percieve
And to manipulate fate living by " evrything is written" as a philosophy

My choices aren't mine , i am just a tool
My vision shifts , so does the true truth

My allies are intangible , though i am objectively measurable
A fair creator would only discard such a rebel

Everything happens for a reason , i trust life fully
But i dont want to take responsibilty.

I am just a tool everything is written
I exist through a knwoldge that is hidden

I trust life as i see and understand
My formless fear takes form as a pen in my hand

After all the writer was only a man.


Words Of Harfouchism

Spirits and shadows living in obscure extremities
I move freely among them since i was a litlle kid

I am familiar with their world just as they are familiar with mine
Funny mysterious entities looking out for me in the most critical times

And they stare at me, but not with their eyes
Just as i see them without using my sight

And their voice springs out from my belly
Telling me to chase my desires endlessly

I obey and i am awed

For i traded my senses to a merchant disguised as a god

I chase the serpent and i consult death to my left
My time has not yet come , the spirits smile and i know i am blessed.


Words Of Harfouchism

Once you understand the eye language,
You'll keep your eyes for yourself.


Words Of Harfouchism.

Love me.
That is all i see.

Everybody is scanning for a bond,
While i lie in the shadows angling
My mode of perception, to correspond
Your routines and rituals of acting,
And asking for boundless love.

So i abscond and you can't ask for more.
Because you noticed my kind and my codes.
You knew I was designed to be alone.

So
I lay my tranquil smile and keep observing us coincide
Feeling the pulse from the inside
I drift trusting i am the aftermath of a calculated plan
But something is always missing somehow
Lost in my thoughts
I blame the inventor

And i grow wiser,
Knowing i will never understand the true motives of my designer.

Words Of Harfouchism.

Sigils in the sky
The wind is my luck

My knowledge echoes , amplified
As it wears the dusk.

The bell chimes with my commands,
Alchemy to help humans understand.

The hidden truth bleeds in rhymes wearing dusk.
Reflecting our paths in one big entangled knot


Words Of Harfouchism

I find myself naked
In front of a mirror
Giving my imaginative speech
To the people



Suddenly i'm in the middle of this river
And the Oracle is looking at me

"Smile child
We are here to feel
Life gets confused at times ,

It's allright
Separation is not real. "

Then why not only happy feelings ? I ask

"The duality of your emotions
generates the spinning required for the matter to manifest

Trust and accept life through your feelings "

Words Of Harfouchism

What happens in the unknown ?

Sages preach of "knowables" and "unfathomables",
but I perceive it to be a cognitive game since my attention is always fixated
on patternized characteristics and sceneries.

I've known and loved myself enough to  know not to invest my thoughts or actions in impulses
Yet from time to time, I tolerate myself.

Life might be identified as unknowable but we all live and die,
consumed by a spectrum of unnecessary emotions and intense analyses
to finally, ironically, conclude that death is punishment.
So, we befriend God like deceitful hypocrites, seeking immortality and monetary advantage.

Still, many believe in the procedure of acquirement through encounter.

Perhaps if you go further for once, you might find human alternatives locked in unusual dispositions,
veiled, yet waiting to be discovered.

Death only happens to those who have merit,
and what happens in the unknown is never open to analysis,
for what stops death
is awareness.



Words Of Harfouchsism

It is from your synthetic relations that i learn
what to make of, and how to observe
the traumas that once occured.

Transformed,
Translated into words
To lighten up the burden
Of the destiny flowing in my nerves.

Chosen for me or impregnated
The path is created
Before the men that walks it to get mutated
Together in your synthetic relashionships.


Words Of Harfouchism