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It.




It is.


What is it?

That's just it:
it just is.

Fight it if you will.

Will
does have certain power that knows no known bounds,
but Will is nigh useless unless you act.

Action
can be a step in the wrong direction
if you don't stop to consider the implications of the choice.

Choice
is both a gift and a curse,
for we can never know with certainty.

Certainty
is a generalization for a particular probability
that we see to be in our favor.

Favor
is a slippery *****
inexorably leading to isolation.

Isolation
is what mind felt
when saw itself as the pilot of matter.

Matter
is frozen energy-
potential en potentia:

Potential.

Everything is potential.

Create the future you wish to reap.
Have the courage to blaze your own trail
if none you've found is as you desire;
there's nothing wrong with that:

It isn't selfish
to seek what it is for which your heart and soul cry out.
It isn't selfish
to refuse to follow a Path laid by another.
It isn't selfish
to pursue happiness;
rather, I find it to be quite the contrary:

If we all, independently, could bring about our own ecstasy
try to fathom what a rave life could be.

Puns may be intended;
ne'er forget to read between the lines-
read between the words themselves,
and look within them as well as thyself
for comprehension;
for understanding.

Words are such funny tools.
Such is a theme of mine.

Tools
be not at fault
for the evil that is so often wrought by them;
they are a catalyst; a medium:
a sort-of transmittal of intention:

A hammer can build or ****
with similar effort and ease
if only the Will is so inclined.

That is the boundless power of Will.
That is our responsibility as conscious beings.

One must seek construction of the Self,
rather than destruction of the Other.

For,
what is destruction of the Other
if not destruction of the Self
from the outside
in
?

(All off my questions are rhetorical and not.
Answer them. I dare you. They are my challenges.
Therein lies the journey to understanding the Self;
or, as they call it in academia: "Philosophy.")

I find that One finds what One seeks,
whether it is harmony or dissonance
or anything else in between.
(Or, maybe that's a product of my own bias!)

Thy every moment may differ,
but t'is of thy Path that I speak.

Tread lightly, my friend.

Only you can bear thy torch-
but, the true crux
is refusing to drop it
until you no longer require it.
I just sat down and wrote this. No forethought.
Lots of afterthought, though!
There's somethin' kinda 'zen' 'bout that:
if you will not actively seek meaning, you deserve it's absence.
It may sound harsh, but if you think about it, it likely doesn't apply to you.
Also, humor is a wonderful multi-key for the door of understanding.
;)
Spiritually speaking,
though a hole can be dug for thee,
the only one who can force you into it
is you.
Once therein,
only you can climb back out.

No assistance
will do the work for thee.
Though much of it may help,
if only you'd remember
how to make yourself climb.
Simplicity is not stupidity.
Simplicity seems to be wisdom
that is not so well understood.
 Nov 2014
Amitav Radiance
Are we hiding behind a mask
not willing to come face to face
with ourselves, and others
why hide behind a face
and not reveal the heart
no heart to dwell
and fear of facing
or have we created
a world around a world
which should have been
now the only reality
hiding behind our lies
or the reality we perceive
why, how and so many questions
not yet found the answers
perplexed by the paradox
are we not allowed to know
or live in the dark
and just continue as it is
we are not what may have been
as we are not aware
of what we actually are
so, the mask
always with one
for different occasions
never the real face
 Nov 2014
Amitav Radiance
Soul stirring kiss
Feelings are aroused
veils lay scattered
only the bare truth
articulating love
revealing secrets
of the souls
world’s anonymous
this, the only truth
 Nov 2014
Jon Shierling
Apparently I have no voice of my own
merely crowing sick imitations into the wee morning
moonlight as waves crash upon the beach
and I find myself in this ****** den of a room
again swallowing poison to drown my anxieties.

Is this really happening all around me
as colors start to blend and the one and
only Velvet Underground is pounding away
somewhere inside my seemingly mismatched head.

Run run run and type type type
cry cry cry and drink drink drink
**** **** **** and smoke smoke smoke
keep on keepin on and fake it till you make
it and eventually I'll wake up and realize
that all of this is just some childish acting out.

All this crap I call poetry, all this festering wound
of a single minded attempt at self validation
really and truly and unnecessarily is an attempt
for me to try and feel like a human being while slowly
inexorably slogging my way into a one armed knife
fight and all I've got is something that couldn't even
get it's **** hard enough to shoot that miserable
IED makin ******* in the face as he sanctimoniously deserved.

You wanna talk about real so then let's talk about real
lets dare some wannabe ******* to talk to my
pasty white *** about hard decisions and true to the
***** maxie pad core of human experience.

Call me a hipster and a beat while burning the pretty
marijuana fire that some use just as pervasively as others
drink while calling it medicine since it comes from a plant
but it's still a crutch unless you actually have cancer.

Maybe I am indeed just an angry kid fighting to find
a place in this metal shod ******* of a country
that we pray to like some slumbering god but
if that's the case than that is really what we all are
who live here and dare not take up the honest
trade of making molotov cocktails.
Perhaps we should call it happy ****** day instead.
 Nov 2014
Jon Shierling
Hey there hott stuff why don't ya bust
out that saxophone and play some serious
New Orleans Blues while I drink a beer and
try to calm the **** down before I start crankin
out some seriously ungodly **** that I'm possibly
going to regret in the morning.

And then it hits me that I'm having a
Bukowski moment and maybe
even channeling the spirit of that St. Paul
of new age seekers and left out hippies
shooting up in broke down cars while
holding some sort've seance for he, Jim Morrison.

Or it could've just been a convenient excuse
to get a sad lonely hipster high and
**** her brains out since she was looking
for something that mattered and happened
to find your crooked *** and a **** begrimed needle.

So don't ask me why I take concepts half baked
such as just go with the flow and all things
go according to the will of the universe
and rub my perfectly shaped **** all over them
since 9 out of 10 it's an excuse for terrible
**** that people do to each other in the name of
great grandpa experience for experience's sake.

I'll laugh in the face of people who ***** platitudes
and I'll teach their cats to **** on their
newspapers in the morning just for the
pure naked mischief of it.

There are so many lives out there in the big blue
world full of so many hopes and dreams and
loves and hates and memories and futures
that no one, any where, has the right or the authority
to infringe upon for any reason especially
that golden calf of fearful worship
the supposed Great Scapegoat of the Greater Good.

So come along with me and my people,
we who do not bow, we who do not submit,
we who wake up in the morning filled with
a burning insatiable need to take our world
by the PMC encrusted ***** and make something new.
 Nov 2014
Aaron Mullin
In pursuit of an elusive harmony
     summer nights rolled away from us
     reverberating into a numinous bass line
     while reconciling our dreams
     with a burgeoning truth

Flustered with desire
     and walking in a non-ordinary reality. Lost within the Source
    of all there is and ever was. We re-animated
    navigating through portals unexplained
     to retrieve this love

We plied our differences into commonality
     and re-aligned our fractured selves using the agency
     of synchronicity - having found
     an immutable archetypal truth
     and having found from where our self-portraits flow

Much more than soul mates, Plato
     offers stories of Zeus splitting souls in half
     as punishment for pride.
     In this incarnation, have we found humility?
     Will this be enough to carry us back to nobility?
    
It is challenging to find your way back
     into a lover's arms. Mistakes haunt us eternally (if we allow for that)
     but every morning if we awake
     and let go, using the suns setting and rising as a reminder that
     with experience, guidance, and repetition ... it gets easier

My half soul
     awoke as my mortality decomposed
     when half becomes one, then the real turmoil begins
     from the shores of St. Mary, Raven calls
     and I follow my destiny into an Obsidian Night
'If I cannot deflect the will of Heaven, I shall move Hell.' ~~ Virgil
 Nov 2014
Aaron Mullin
Every evening I sit on the banks of the Old Man
Withdrawing the gurgles and churns
And applying it as salve to my soul.

I meditate on the modernistic monolith
Perched on the banks of the coulees.
A castle made of sand, so to speak;
A house of learning; fiat lux~medicine rock.
The name isn't important, its role is.
The binder in the masonry is metaphor that I use to
Bind me to my duty on this plane of existence.

I am a miniscule piece of an eternal pie.
Still, my actions are important.
Every choice I make sends a signal back to the pie
Reminding It of its essence.
It is not apple or cherry or pizza, even
The eternal pie that we are all a piece of is Love


Those castles I spoke of earlier
Are continuously flowing
Back into the love
From whence they came.

Why the duality?
Why not just stay in the spirit world and commune with Love?

2 reasons
1. Our souls need to grow: for growth we take to the physical, mental, and spiritual plane

2. Love is imperfect: the definition needs further unraveling

1 word
< ~ ~ Evolution ~ ~ >
 Nov 2014
Kelly Rose
He touched her soul
oddly making her
feel whole

Her dreams fulfilled

The gentle breeze
reminding her of
his caress that teased
across her body

Beauty
blossoms
within her

Yes, dreams fulfilled
as her ghost lover
whispers
of his love
11/10/2014
Seconds come first in time,
Minutes are mostly on time,
Hours take their sweet time.

Days come time after time,
Months are from time to time,
Years have long waiting time.

You and I get living time,
We have a testing time,
Let us live for full time,
And leave the world in time.
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