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Kenshō Sep 2014
Sitting like every moment is the first one,
The ineffable center of the spokes of time.
The air that was of magic, that contained no chemical names-
Clothed me in childlike nature, and spoke to me in riddles and games.
The wonderful, glittery .. Cancer filled, jittery.
What is this cycle of anonymous names,
amongst what have I been born?
Cubical jobs and mechanical rich snobs.
Look: We contain something within us..
-Of it I could not speak-
But climb to the wilderness mountain like the rest of them did..
Behold my brothers and sisters the divine mountain still speaks!
I come in peace. Do not offend.
Kenshō Sep 2014
Legends ago, a story told by thee:
Secret whispering melody of an old wispy tree.
Planted ages past, a singular lordly seed.
Containing all extending branches of what your eyes see.

Round the bend the hidden grove,
Over the hill the beach line cove;
All of my scattered temples.
Oh the land there is to roam.

As I pass, you see me walk alone.
As if I'm almost not all there..
Its because I am busy everywhere
Exploring my forgotten home!

                                 -G
.
Kenshō Aug 2014
Chanting 'round fire, I find your ascetic attire.
Swallow me in your divine robes of love.
Burn away what is lost and all is found.

Sun of Knowledge bring Life to stone.
This world is magic and your very own.
Lost along the tiring brick roads,
I retire back home. Solid, within my deep forest throne.
hi
  Aug 2014 Kenshō
Poetic T
wRiting
           hElps
                      Lighten
      thE
         loAd,
wordS
                    Escape
Kenshō Aug 2014
If I could steal a moment alone,
I admit, I'd want it to be a moment to share.
If I could see the whole world of light,
I'd want it to be your eyes into which I stare.
If I could warm by the hottest of hearths,
I admit, I'd want it to be your sheath I share.
If I could embody any angel or god,
I would willingly sacrifice my self facade.
How could I ever meet?
The missing half to make my puzzle complete.
.
Kenshō Aug 2014
Could it ever be told again?
The endless stories of a city torn down.
Repeating a story of love and pain.
Multiples of slaves but one single crown.
Pictures of hypocritical angels on glass were stained.
Barely seeing through, a single boy with no name.

Screaming to who could hear.
The crumbled ruins below it all.
Silent, for the whole of the world, a single tear.
Ancient chasms he did crawl.
Seeing the past and what it did bear.
Something human with the name of God, yet chanting a Devil's prayer.

The moment could be called an illusion.
And the clock did conceal.
An opportunity for light given once;
But by a machine it did steal.
Infinite passages in all directions, broken clocks on walls.
And a phantasmal smile for the eternal Devil's deal.

The Demons were alive and still did crawl.
hi

Musik that i wrote this to -
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hQA4r3k9C-g
Kenshō Aug 2014
Independence is an illusion.
Dependence implies that some thing else must be independent.
¡Throw both of these words out!
Interdependence is the nature of reality.

Progression is one sided.
A ball moving through space must have a point of relativity.
If you can understand relativity: forwards and backwards are the same thing.
Relative reality is one sided, reality isn't.

Life and death are an illusion.
A line drawn by the mind of a fearful human.
After you die, which is inevitable,
You will feed the unity of life.

Keep these three truths close to you
And you can truly know freedom
from the illusions
of the human mind.
hi

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