Getting in touch, well,
That's the main thing I do;
Tuning in to me
And taking notes from my soul,
Then weaving a tapestry.

Silver Bullet Synchronicities, Literally, Layer into my Space a Perfect Union of Oblivion
The Ying, to The Yang, Baby....

Micro to Macro, Anomalous Events Don't quite Strike Me as anything Other than Normality in and of Different Scale

A For Instance

To my Eyes, the Sequoya Tree Appears to Tower, the Highest of the High
While our beloved Earth Teachers....The Ant....Grounded above and below the Mother Clay,
Will Look at Me as a Colossal Mammalian largely Trembling the World with Weight Infinite

To the Point

Perspective is simply a specific view, an angled ray of Light, Thus Strikes the Object in it's Own Precise Uniqueness

Note of Importance

If only One ray strikes angled Light, One angle of Light just won't Suffice....Every Perspective must be Offering of It's Own Accord, thus Strikes the Creation True....

Wholeness is Truth
Truth is Coherence
Coherence is Smooth and Steady
Do I know if I'll be Ready?....Not Really

This I Do Know

All Matter is full of Wholes of Space, NOT EMPTY, but Full of Life, Feeding the Flow into Motion, Flowing the Motion of Inert Mass, Spinning the Soul to Life, Spinning into Infinite Bliss

LIFE IS BEAUTIFUL MOVEMENT

Some will make Life into Art with Dance
To Live Life at the Threshold, DANCE Your DREAMS into LIFE
Everyday and Every Night....DANCE
                                                  ­DANCE
                                                  DANCE

  ­              Bless You.....Bless Me...Bless Us All

Love is buoyant
It keeps afloat
Even in turbulence
The hearts don’t sink
We may cry oceans
But remember
Love is buoyant
Novice swimmers
Also keep afloat
Tragedy may strike
Upheavals of waves
May pull us down
Yet, we survive
Love is buoyant*




© Amitav (Radiance)

As the ink sinks into the paper
i burrow deeper
inside of myself, until i am lost
in words, alliteration, commas and
full stops
to crop my faults
and tie my edges together
sew myself,
with rhythmic leather
in an attempt to hold secure
My frayed mentality,
conceal the reality,
That i have fallen apart,
Glue together new beginnings and fresh starts,
With ink at the heart,
Of it all.

And those pretty little firefly's
that used to illuminate
the sockets of your eyes
must have been soaked up by your crys
must have fizzled out and died,
inside of you.
Because there's no longer
that burning light
that used to ignite a room
And put the stars to shame.
And since they died out,
you haven't been the same.

And honey, i can try to ignite them again,
With all i have,
But I've done all i can do
darling the match lies in you.

Life is a maze,
Some of us get lost along the way.

A fairy poked my little nose
And gave me a sense of adventure
And now every time that I'm held back
I wonder what that scent was meant for.

I didn't feel cool when I came here
Old jeans, and shirts were worse
But my one consolation
Was that I had my converse.

Dandelion Flights, so Dandy
He's a Swell kinda fella
If you catch him at a proper Hour
He gets the Rosy Red, ya See
Reviews Legends, some about
Storming the Beaches of Normandy
Gritting Power of this Jaws,
Leans in close for Dramatists Pause
An Aged Mouth, the Black of Life
Spits over into his World of Words
Spirits gathering, the Deadening in Delivering
The Tales of the Long Lost Listeners
I Revel in the Imagery, Mindsight Sees
Battlegrounds Soundtrack
The lapping Tide, the remote Tanks and Warplane Engines, the dusty soldiers yelling out commands,
Words too faint to Understand
but the Sound of Fear, Gutwrenching, Rage, Pits of Painstaking, Heroic Strain

I'd so easily slip back in Time
To relive his Stories of Lucid Dreams

WAKE-UP ISN'T CONTRAST

I Only Will my Eyes open
After a Silence has Befallen
My Lids Jolt Open,
As I survey the Scene, Listening, Feeling for any Sign and Everything The Moment collapsed
In to the Present Presence.

Reaching over the Table
I felt for breath and the Old Man's Essence, I sighed and shook my head Knowingly  
This Man who fought all Those Battles and Lived to Tell,  Would not leave in It's Retelling,
not from this World nor the Next
No way, Not this One....He was just One of the many Spirits that passed through from Time to Time, and needed
an Ear to hear His Story...
I certainly didn't Mind...
Ethereal Sport is my Truest kinda Scene.

Dead girl swinging from a tree
As breezes blow melodically
She sways almost erotically
Blackening necrotically

She loved a boy who said goodbye
And laughed at her when she asked why
She thought that she might like to fly
And swing, and choke, and lastly, die

The noose around her throat, she jumped
Her neck bones snapped, her long legs pumped
'Til every bit of breath was gone
Now it's the wind she's dancing on

Her flesh turns putrid, then it slips
Insects crawl upon her lips
Flies infest her, north and south
Feasting on her crotch, her mouth

Some days later, she is found
Split skin sagging to the ground
Hung from a noose so tightly bound
Dead girl dancing 'round and 'round