'I' dreams of a dream crosser...It cut across in the bark with a fine 'mind'! In silence, passion runs through the empty pages of its anonymous author.
~

Life,
One story after another...
A theme,
I know,
Am awake in a dream.
~

An Era of sacred self-knowledge is here, restoring its pagodas of wicked and divine humanity' unspoken virtue, within the illusions of mortals, It suffers lives of conscious' dreaming its immortal.  
~

'Enforcement' motions are 'not' for everyone!
Throughout its Act,
the ''Clown Above'' Is always happy,
Especially when doesn't show.
~

''Under orange trees,
bare-footed lemons sipping apple tea!
Fine 'I thought's a dead bee,
flying high on the bottom of Its cup.''
~

'the' illusion of being,
mind's tool,
fool,
manipulated nature of its  phantom.'

In 'the' sacred pools, there is no.thing but fluid.
It has been floating there! Within a built of wood and bone is powerless while articulating loops! It knows it has been weeping inside the 'holy' books as nothing but words. Saw through their 'strength' one-time oblique then spoke, of what is only lived through! Breathed, It lit the eternal syllabi on fire. Now 'Kabir' and I, are enduringly excused.

There is ''essence'' in the air, empty of human's tragedy,
empty of human's bliss. 'This' poetry has run out its dimension in Being needn't began.
~

'a mind, a prisoner of thought,
what from whom to where and how is gonna be...?
a man can find its way towards commitment,
when free, to walk away within.'

'intrepid as convenient,
splashing ink of gasping paragraphs,
resulting in opinion,
unhesitant,
within ever sinking glory,
parading's story of its cosmic commodity.'

'extraordinary tiny boxes!
wrapping caution of belief,  
within a gift of comprehending motion,
jumping higher undercliff.'

'...transmutation,
praying now won't help!
hopeless it seems as 'I' hold it,
leaving no marks from its paint.'

'in the root of its heart,
laid buried in sleep,
dreaming of light,
it rose and crawled to the Sun,
only to see,
light shone bright,
in the heart of its seed.'

This is not a rehearsal 'my' love,
This, Is the real thing 'he said',
After sitting in silence for hours, I said 'let's talk', let's hear',
- Oh, no dear, please join me for a cup of tea instead - '
It was a man who was enjoying 'his' silence, simply a man who couldn't pretend.

'... script's data,
typography's dead man's memoir,
inking vowels
of a barren mind.'
~

'It sat next to silence,
harkening the rhythm of the tides,
saw 'their' holograms as timeless dancers,
tiptoeing in the soil of barren' mind.'
~

'writers wrote,
sages spoke,
composers composed and performers performed,
they gave it all to its role,
One genius spread inside million 'boxes',
within each of which had a 'bluebird' in the heart.'

'Can you feel It!
Can you?
And as you do...Just wait!
Is not It...
The question within stars' reflection
Is reaping all you've got!
Unzipping Human uniform!
Departing,
Not...'
~

'gods' in a set of 'arms',
charming perception of self,
unfolding band's instruments,
playing each other at once.'

'...στη ζωή,
ο θάνατος δεν χρειάζεται να σε βρει,
έχει ήδη!'
~

'dream's Being,
in Peace,
I, the glorious Ego,
Am a shape of a cloud.'
~

'quiet anticipating,
picked the most suitable spot,
for its greatest entertainment,
all theatres are shut.'

Alkaline concepts of human satire require liquid.
Cruising against or down rivers still, cry 'me' a river!
Up and down,
Its mind's preys are swimming as one.
~

Cloud's gravity!
Hauling its royal dogma of how soon is too soon for a fool to 'die' before it retires, In reaching the picks of its crown!
~

'When the Birth cord of Ego enthralling phenomenon is wrapped tight throughout hyperboles, A mass-concentrated caesarean is birthing its tools in steady rips off One, in escaping its distasteful option.'
~

'...once you come undone,
''who'' do you need above its below,
and ''what'' do you love below its above...'
~

'now's getaways,
an elegant escort of its inner satisfaction,
humanity's courage sold within its loving comfort...
how high did 'you' bet?
did 'you' get high enough to bet!'

'It calls 'me' good but I am ~ not.
It calls 'me' bad yet I am ~ not.
Being 'bad' by doing good and good by doing 'bad', Ego's fostered
bond within thought's prayer adorable trials, turned into 'God's fella
crowd's liberation, now's chipping its topography foundation.'
~

'I' welcome 'you',
Breathing,
as I ~
never had to.'

Piece by piece they kept breaking your body,
It was a way to make themselves feel,
Exercising love out of habit was their favourite hobby,
Out of which you were left with nothing to heal.

The olive branch!
An earthly representative of peace. Yet, 'olives' aren't everyone's favoured 'snack'. It wants to be treated, smoothed or cured before it is even remotely embraced, and even then, parts of its character still won't have it on a 'pizza'. Furthermore, blending mediations
accommodates high manners, and even when flourishing, aren't always appreciated. Chewing 'olive's spread is empathising, for it, Self needn't understanding in its eternal ignorance of being fed.

It guards been guarded while guarding the guard. Its stamina is nothing in plenty! Mind's twisting its neat undergarment, proclaiming it freedom's eagerly doormat.  
~

'marked,
above ~
below itself,
indefinite lives,
ahead ~
behind itself,
rest needn't.'
~

'you' can get busy living,
once gone through a drainage pipe,
'Self's redemption turns into a movie.'

'...an oasis in the desert,
Human haplographies
swimming in Dead Sea scrolls,
wise beyond its understanding,
ignorant beyond its role.'
~

'...mind struggles for A title,
awake it sleeps,
down up the hills,
the wait of never 'I' witness,
between the dots it never kills,
deep wordless breath...'

'how an authentic apology glances at what true forgiveness does...,
'the' paint of panorama's risen recognition of a departed artisan,
sinks long before any of its lines can proclaim itself an Art.'

tracking flashes,
examining count,
passing round near,
you say I am a puppet,
eager to play with the sound,
'active' swim shore off meditation,
I am a puppet you adore.'

'lost exteriors, dehydrated inks splashed imagination over-flooded desert's recreational mirage, out of thin air perpetrated! its essence sank! it does seem to be watching over while observing the above... needn't saving, needn't anything love, without a trace was found when faded, inside 'this' fire, grew the heart of a courageous moth.'
~

'I' welcome 'you',
breathing,
ought I never had to.'

'rips out the guts of knowledge,
each stitch of your costume,
every layer, zero grand design,
eardrums receiving frequencies,
love's below as above.'

'I hold no memory for things I've learned,
nor for what I've read,
nor for things apprehended nor heard,
neither for people nor displays,
weighing nothing,
acquired nothing,
'I' knows
child's ignorance!
its enigma is sluggish,
inexperienced in conceiving deliberately,
grasping silence,
incapable of sound's unbroken thinking,
I, within 'its' story...
am barely pronounced.'
~

'Comes a time', when it feels so good to be in a traffic jam or irritated on a top of a mountain, even jogging with snakes in freshly clipped grass! When there're no parts of me enslaving its labour, nor I being aground. Ah, Peace, whatever life's delivering, I don't mind.
~

'sweating for its meat,
self-fed gets comfortably indeed,
yet a wolf who wears fleeces...
is a funny looking sheep.'

'over its blazing embers,
αναστενάρια soul dances!
pray's flamings igniting,
glowing in the fire,
O, ecstatic master,
I 'simply' am.'

Nothing is suffered nor has reached!
Yet, Human strains are traded fancy bubbles of love's vapoured devotion as in reality, 'their backbones' are already broken...with 'caution'.
~

'...it soaked by the lake,
of mind's whispering willow,
as Silence,
I hear its core,
whipping the current of tears.'  
~

'within the cage's breathing,
senses are Ego's favourite stage,
'alive' nor 'dead',
the human collector is awake,
as billion of lives are rented sleep in its eternal 'bed'.
~

'falling for this Human form in which none is born ...
why altering belts!
this rollercoaster is glorious!
dodging the bullets
glancing now at its grin,
found later they **** from within.'
~

Resistance feeds on fears,
Fear feeds on beliefs,
Beliefs are feasting on concepts in perceptions of a separate self!
O, courage,
Courage is needed!
Transparent,
Genuine,
Heart,
Bursting its million pieces of One!
~