Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
 Nov 2014
Musfiq us shaleheen
///
one real feel
I want to share with you,my friend
the shells of strata has three layers:

the upper shell of strata,
alluvium-
very polished-
straightforward-
black and white-
seems nothing wrong-
optimistic-

the middle shell,
the secret song-
surface has hidden-
dialectic-
partial red line-
pessimistic-
pressure on both upper and lower,
uncovered ultimate-

the bottom shell,
compact and tiny-
the hidden beauty–
the ultimate love--
after losing time,
spiritual---
///
- @Musfiq us shaleheen
shells of strata: the different layers of strata deposited in different time that played the unique event and it makes the layer.........
My life for you
is an open book
For others, it is 
a closed chapter
Give and take
With empty hands
In closed doors
With open minds
Heart to heart
Ecstasy unravels
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.
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.
;)
Never ending
war within
in search of
an everlasting peace
 Nov 2014
NuurSeraph
Such intense pleasure grows out of the Soul potted in phase shift Soil.
The Heavens watered her petals to bloom, flowers of everlasting peaceful serene.

I am drawn into calming bliss, basking in her intoxicant solution of fragrance ~ wafting in the wisp-ers of wind, rising my eyes to the heart of her mind.

*My humble Soul shudders ~
My manners have no muscle
Your muscle has no manners
Let my manners & your muscle
take us forward
God is not a living entity
But a loving eternity.
Next page