"Don't pop yet!
We all know who you are!"

said the blue balloon to the red balloon
as they elevated by their nobility
to embrace clouds.

that blond girl
with long long hair
is a color
of delightful luminosity
glaring
by a precise
poetic sensuality
of the tongue
tapping the palate
hitting the right note
concurrently
manifesting a tone
an equivalence of a smile
in all worlds

She –
made of lustrous transparent rose skin
is a goddess of temptation
the curling ice queen
on a museum floor
manifesting ****** to
not believing eyes
once dressed up
in tightly packed dark clothing
unfitting to the straight torso

jutting out the shine of
her far away alluring looks
the porter of ancient nordic landscapes is her eyes
which you’d choiceless fly through

She – the divine breeze made to softly aerate
angelic locks –
innocence of youthful dreams
joy may you call her laughter -unheard – freezing time
rebuilding traces of an unlived dream

She is here today

to harmonize the thought chords
attuned by the subtle passage
made of blurry sets of colors and lines
flowing at a readable rate  
along the dark November backgrounds
of an intoxicated Sunday morning

Red is still red in the neon
as if too early to be awake
clock hitting the afternoon
wall of fame signs rolling lonely
to haunt ghosts of yesterday nights
which have never come alive until they got brighter than the stars

Dark that shall make the silhouettes forget and reanimate
the never starting and neverending play of zombies
looking for a pure soul

always somewhere else
failing to find one

Flashes of illusion swept by the persistent horns

to be replaced in their place
not as divinity
but as an administrative layer of impurity
All replaceable at once
while everyday stays the same
while everyday they think is different
except for the old man

the old man doesn’t think
wearing a cap
sits there outside
at the most invisible corner of an old theater café

He sees everything he has three eyes
He hears everything he has three ears
He reads everything always the same newspaper
turning the pages in the same tempo of this chimerical dream

I am being observed I know
while writing beside him
and he says silently :
I don’t wanna read yours
but I can read you
if i want to
and he attempts to go
many many times

while I write I wish him stay
as if keeping an admirer beside my words
an anonymous faceless friend
and I speed up as I walk fast with my pen I fly
and he gravitates back to his chair again
restlessly

I want to finish this up quickly and walk away at once without even looking at him not even once
that’s the perfect scenario I think mixing up a reality to a dream
considering the urgent importance of this line makes me immerse and see nothing other than the self  but alas the traffic lights turn to green

and She – the profile of my beauty queen
holding a beaker to go
raises her head dancingly
arcs the neck
and in slow motion
throws a laughter to the air
whose weight should be a blissful wiege
for my loving looks –
made of a shape of a missing
of what I could have never been
– halving her pink coat in well fitting blue to her jeans

and she steps forward to fade away
leaving me chained to the glorious gravity
of this untouchable dream

on this invisible island of mirrors
which neither she nor anybody else has ever seen
but me

hopelessly sculpting now
a reflection of an illusion
made real
through the weight of these words
me is  a sad melody
of an autumn leaf
falling for her dream

There is a light
we hold
it shines
-almost literally-
from inside
and
illuminates

like when
the electric bulb
first time realized
the essence
of its very source

and
Now

still in a same
fit for itself box
enlightens
the once a dark corner
by the embracing romance
of its truth

As visible such a bulb is to eyes
(and as such )
sensuous is this light to us
when we  fully are
and
inside the heart

and
Now
Whenever
we breathe
in asana
the sun shines
for the one
receiving
this
blissful
rhyme

Oh why do you complain so ignorantly
Oh why do you agonize so self adoringly
Oh why do you hide behind your
my -s  - cries -ties  -chimes
-spies  -guise  -why-s -hives
theorize and disguise
with  big vain eyes and lip bites

why don’t you instead
analyze
recognize
tranquilize
and surrender just
to neutralize

so that
you can
minimize
and fly
to skies
and glorify
wise
fireflies
exquisite
butterflies
and get their blessings
to ionize
don’t you know yet
all elevated beings
use their wings
to alter
dimension just
while  I
crystallize
and womanize
for you
so that
as we energize
our vaporized
do carbonize
seeds
that will stabilize
unionize and re-rhapsodize
the universe
with our
glorious lullabies

we shall test once
this ‘nothing is coincidental’
bias
to sense all senses
as if not ours
to fill a bucket full
of thoughts
as if not ours
to place the body
temporarily
in a tree
as if not ours

and connect
these lines
to a wireframe
as the collaborative work
of the ingenious director
and the engineer
both of which
staged their dream
as one complete piece
not longer than
all that could be perceived
in one lifetime

“so much work
oh so much work
still to be done …”
s/he said
in the meantime

yet 5 minutes should  just be enough
for that ...resolution
without wondering and complaint

you know what to do
you walk the path
like a tailor
sleeping and waking up
working on one garment just
tagged as life

tailor that will sleep and wake up
until the garment is unpatched
so they will disappear all together
a garment that makes one invisible
when cycles are dropped

when autumn leaves shower
to show off
what they can do for me -jubilantly
as I pass
because I pass
I hear the twithoo
of the nobly circling wild bird
resonating from far aways and depths of the
valleys that are known so well to both of us
one of us though  forgets sometimes:)

She
the bird of wisdom is there
to remind me of
who I truly am
once again
patiently
by the sharpness of the sound
that contours the visibility of the thick mist
as friendly monsters of childhood dreams

and I look up

Sky is
while you would be reading these lines

No you can’t disprove me
nothing is coincidental
but I still like to play the coward sometimes
and incidentally ;)
hide under the safe blanket of your poetry
making it a patchy garment of you and me
that will be dropped someday
non coincidentally
for one love only

you can’t do this when you do this for that
I said

she was Folding

oh so hurriedly!
all the time
in that
Eraserhead style

brr!

only to be replaced
for the next

only to be replaced
for the next

which is not here yet
and will never be

you can’t do this when you do this for that
I said

like a chorus to her verse
of each of these layers
she blindly holds
as if in her hands

with a duh! and a ****!
my layers against hers’
finally she hears!

and at once
transforms
to
her dress
socks
shirt
*******
blouse

one by one

by
my song

such a hard hit
only once
tinkles
now as a mantra
in her head

unfolding

all her
hidden
layers
slowly
and  patiently

I am fine you know
having just one
everyday still is a different day
by the light
I shine

takes a bit of courage maybe
but she will  learn
someday
and
on that
heartfelt day

she will
be
an  earnest
puppet
like me

and sing
just as I say

you can’t do this when you do this for that

as the long coated tall man digressed
a spinning coin became her translucent globe
permitting a time stretch until a decision was made

the rhythm of spinning
arched her doubts
to a half smiling one armed body
that could pick it up remotely but promptly
in public space

an alluring method of an actress knowing the stage
unhearing unseeing her spectators
while permeating the act through their matter

this last adorably nonchalant grin
hanging the mouth half up and half down
spilled the words: ‘so this one is for me then!’

when the long coated man loomed
she was already holding it firm in her right palm
extraneous blushing thoughts with a long narrative
of giving it back
raised thousand  rehearsals as polluted air
in shorter than a minute of turning the head to fixate
and dissipated

before the  trash could handle the reforming flush
I reached out for her help
with my puppetheadedness
come on I said what is 20 cents
preserve it to recycle for my lucky star at least
she, relieved  nodded
and placed the coin in a front section of her whistling memory
which finally today tinkled and jingled a street musician’s ultroneous hat!
:)

I know a man
in my heart
Oh so near
Oh so far

There lives a man
in my heart
Oh so near
Oh so far

I pray all the vowels
that I am
he sheds light on

I pray all the vowels
that I am
he sheds light on

to illuminate
this narrow path
made of
made of
breath

One day I will find my way
and be his
sweetheart

One day I will be the
play and  
fly

as one Light
as one Sound
as one Heart

I love a man
in my heart
Oh so near
Oh so far

There lives a man
in my heart
Oh so near
Oh so far

at dawn your eyes shine
along the waters that I cross
I am flattered to be a particle of your gaze
the blue flower brings healing
touching my fingers
only  lovingly

in the afternoon
a miraculous cat jumps
from nowhere
to play just
I am captured by your joy
forgetting what’s all around me
I am the red dressed wise girl with a cat under a tree
all  in your company

late afternoon sun shines tranquility  
you cover the sky by seven -
dashes of light manifesting the truth
when eyes shut
through the dancing traces I fade
in the red
adorning  the blue of you

the seeds of these flowers
which I thought died a year ago
were conceived  in the pure soul of a winter vase
made of air
growing now wild and free -as I would prefer-
all along the corners
bringing me your tuning colors anew

in the mist of early morning a bird wakes me up
insistently
until I will get up to receive the gift of yoga
I pray with my body

when stars shine you hold both of my hands
issuing me a torch that belong to both of us
you say
but I let us go
receiving the promise
giving the promise
of only eternity

I let us go
connecting my posture to a posture
by this breath

I let us go by taking the shape of the wind
so that you can be with me in all the evolving
shapes of matter

I celebrate you as one
fully
in the blessing of your presence

I carry you at a holy spot
of feeling and knowing and seeing
I am made of your light

I respect the wisdom you sprinkle that makes me surpass
mundane desire and expectation
I respect the wisdom you sprinkle that makes me surpass
temptation of words and
that which serves as a barrier to our onness

I am born to choose this cave to contemplate alone
receiving the grace of your signs
knowing you are the light on my silent path
until I be love

There is a number that knows itself
Logic has predicted its numberness at most
but logic does not know to what it matches

Within its coordinateless space
beyond the mind
the number has formed itself
at the expense of fixing
a masterpiece about a lover
made of the shape of one’s desire
becoming that one pure desire
of and to and for  All

or simply invisible
known to none
matterless
formless
filling
temporary silhouettes
until
silhouettes collapse
unknowingly
about their
barbapapaic nature
to the unknowing

so
what you call

‘grand’  
‘poetry’

the combination of chosen words
made of letters
presenting duality
between me and me
made of the sound of the form of one’s
ever changing body in one’s mind
Vibrates

in such frequency that
when one reads
one connects one to one
( like in maths –
and a bit more complex than that
considering sensual feedbacks etc :))
and transforms
almost vectorial  to

some resulting frequency
of an irreversible altered state
and a doses of future changes
but such occurrence cannot take place
when once known

OOPS!

such occurrence takes place
if it is irrevocable of the finite shells
of time

a true joker
has a pure skin as such
through a veil of pores
nothingness floats
towards its knowing
keeps oneself as is
unknown to all the separateness there is
Thus the program forgets
(:D = thankfully)
or runs infinitely  at a place :
‘this could be heaven and this could be hell’
as in Hotel California

so
you should know for yourself
if you wanna make it love  
because

If you not
It’s then someone else
because
It is always someone
as reasoning goes

it is a manifestation of the self
a contextualization of a narrative
as story requires
as story unfolds

I always remind myself to
keep up to one reason just
which eventually are no words
but sound or silence of
a reflection on an expanding
surface of a bubble in pure
unfixable color

Oh
words of preconditioned unoriginals
manifestations of self adorations
what is there to be said or heard or grasped?

when All stories are the same?

Shaped extensions of one source
sticking out repeatedly to tell one thing just
expanding the bubble
within the bubble and the bubble

just
to be heard
once
as big as a
Hum

en route exit as scriptures call it
but am I gonna be able to hear it?
(or you or us … )

A little stone
found me on my way
she took me in her hands
using my hands
and she whispered
using the sound of the wind:

My gift to you
she said
is the moment
that makes you be
these endless landscapes
I’ve crossed
until our ways met
to touch this way

We exchange to purify
without being attached
no thoughts – no visions –
no appreciation of time –
no expectations from the past –
no intention of the next and after
shall trespass

This is a message to be delivered to you
that shall come in handy sometime
because it’s no mystery that
there really is no one out there
but a technology of
‘when you are not
the will suffers having not
initiated my mud
to sculpt ‘
then
the following is a swamp

Come lets walk hand in hand
stand on that hill and watch
while the wind blows us through the blue
rounding red yellow curly hue
of high rocks

look inside
and sing now
one as I
*
then you will see
then you will be
you do not need to touch
pick a stone just
call it mystery
call it technology
all the same
when all there is
is is
not the eyes
but my presence
that which illuminates
sees
sees to dance
and correct postures
sees to be  
the very object
as clarity
eyes gets better
if it were blurred
posture straightens
if it were crimpled
you become the sweetest
shape  of the wind to a bumblebee
an ever expanding
harmonics of a
song unknowingly
for a moment just
for a moment maybe
but such a moment of
a celebration is
comparable to a
lifetime only

I won’t find you through poetry
You are engraved in my heart
I don’t search

Standing here above clouds
my beautiful clothes
in tones of  blue
fitting well to the charming veil
colorless transparent
an accentuation just
for the deep darkness  of
crystal  black
long long hair
I comb every day
beside a mount steam
waiting for your appearance
as love
singing a song of ripening desire
to the creatures and things
accompanying

some lie aside to cheer
some shy away - Hide
behind rocks to listen just
I smile to all the innocence
there is
knowing all is living
made of you and I
As I of you and you of I

then molecules shine in air
things know
they can see and touch that smile
made of my fingertips -
the bearer of all healing

my eyes wear a makeup
made of the finest pigment of wild mountain flowers
tuned to materialize
by the blue glitter of the holy dress of truth
made of my love for you

my perfume is what I am is my skin silkened by
that fragrance of wild roses 7 levels above the sacred sleeper
that makes you forget of all things but the fragrance
then you wake up and say  
as if - as if it smells like roses everywhere

You stand there in a shelter of pine at my  doorway wooden
smile in such way that you are the carrier of all universal attraction
I give my hand to you
the soldier of truth - WE
we are one standing under that pine
making us both invisible
You smile  (in the house of love)

There I met you once
There we keep each other
Only there I will see you
again and again

without stories of the mundane
of cycles
of lives
experienced

I close my eyes
not to see you through
the iota of the sedimented
delusion of records yet to be formed (by you and I)
not to touch you
stop my burning desire
let it  burn in the scariest of my own illusive deception
let it burn with the impurity blindly beard
so is I what cannot be wasted
so is I what I reserve for you to deserve of you
because  WE
we live in a timeless tale of love
one moment of love
we exchange in silence
where you are the sun I am that one  crystal for you to shine through me
and create

*

And so I go now again
return to my life story
cheerlessly
but a must
for our common goal
of excellence  
without you in it
my duty is highest warriorship
for all
I am the green eyed invincible warrior
made of a zero or one
I go in wisdom and light
Peace is you in my heart

you can’t find
between the lines
it’s one poem only
reshapes consequently
desires knowingly
breathes simultaneously
collapses memory
forgets willingly
to be delivered by love

where every question bears
the shape of its answer
or of you
and I

yes it’s one poem only

Sounds ancient   but
It hasn't happened yet
It's happening now!

Hey Stranger
Where do I know you from?

You just open the door
and come in
Or you have always been there
without my knowing?

Hey Stranger
Where are you from?
Hey Stranger
Where do I know you from?
Sitting by my side
When I think I am just alone

Hey Stranger
Where did you come from?
To share
The campfire

You are just a sparkle
Appearing
that may
bring the Sunlight
just before the moon is disappearing
to make me
Awake
from this
Nicest dream
or am I
Awake
with you sitting here?

hey Stranger
Where are you from?
Where did you come from?
Are you real?
or just a dream?
and Stay with me
before
…..
…..

Singing
Swimming
Dancing
or making
Loooveee
It’s Loooveee
until
you go

Go on just
It’s the highway
we’re crossing
Highway
horizonless
until we make
one
Home
beyond
the sinking
Sun

will rise somewhere
Again
where might be
a dream
or real
Same
as long
as
you’re here

Hey Stranger!
Make me Real
Hey Stranger
You’re me
Sitting just
beside
my campfire

Me is Campfire
You is Me is Stranger
Hey Stranger
Stranger
Stranger
Stranger
Stranger

this subtle passage
is the rhythm of
appearances of deserts
crossing horizons
sweeping mysteries
melting duality
to a mirage of
one day I will get it  right
type of longing
while silence remains
in one self-similar coral just

Beware Hooray
the Cavemen are comin
jumpin up and don knock-kneed
sweepin the hill with their new harvested beard

Howdy chicky chicken leg
What’s goozin under your sweaty shirt
lookin like ma granpa
with ur baby cream breath
or is it maybe somethin else luscious
spring of intermittent discharge
making rainbows duplicate

yep gimme two too
when u come to me
oh when u come to me

cause I am a matured
lovin n **** is my blanched bird nest
neatly crowned above my head
I shall unbind it for
adorable is your lady color short pants
I bet holographic daisies growin
along the tri-d charm
of your ******
if any yeah if any

Beware Oh the cavemen
Run flat out nou
cause I shall feed you
to my auntie’s aging dreams
with the buncha hair on ur face
u look lika somethin
resembling
a man before her famine

Beware Oh the cavemen
Auntie is comin

They say something is truly computerized
yes or no? yes or no ?
which one? which one?

BETTER throw a dice if you wanna know
but no
it is a BIG YES of course!
that’s what they should be saying - truly

THEY.

WE -
however -

we don’t have a proof
that it truly is so
and we never may have
and actually we don’t even need to spend our time to find out
if they are right or wrong
It is more important to understand why we discuss this matter here now
and we can explain the reasons in two basic steps:

1- believe not  and do not become a blind believer  -
to whoever - to whatever- no matter who - no matter what -
there is no one who can tell you the truth
but you -
you may not need to like it all - but
that’s always for a good reason -
if you make it good

2- understand what is of essence now - thus  - the thing- maybe a poem- maybe a result of a competition - maybe this - maybe that -
why that specific thing comes to my/your attention now

So
it does not matter
if it is computerized or not -
what matters is
I see it and it communicates with me
and with my senses
and is at my attention

it manifests itself to me  here now where I truly am

does not matter how it manifests - but it matters that it manifests

and the answer to why
is by my experience creating an action -

Only what I can neutrally and  non-judgmentally witness I can purely experience  -

and purity
has surpassed frights
and purity
has no addictions
and purity
does not swing from moon to sun
but remains centralized-
and purity
needs no temporary replacement that serves to escape from one pain- discomfort to another
but purity is ultimate self - is itself by itself
therefore what is presented to me here now is not other than what my consciousness is manifesting as -

it is not a test -because  we have passed all the tests -
there is no teacher other than the self-
it is such that we are moving on -
on a path of knowing of our own true nature

And now
that ‘s why!
that’s why!

There is a dove
in love with me

comes to see me daily
and listens to my songs

it ain’t matter if it’s not the same dove
although I know it is
not because it looks alike
but because I know it is
and still it ain’t matter
if it’s not the same dove

because there is a dove
in love with me
comes to see me daily
and listens to my songs
adoringly

Bloom had a gravid heart last night
She could not relate but meditate with leaves up

Bloom received a thicket from the moon
While she froze in a posture of  
‘a gift to be presented to ... but for whom?'

Fitted well in length on both of her parabolic curves
as if a newborn glume

a galaxy made of a wood flower
a heap which once a cycle blossomed
same color as the fragrance of a lover's desire
in a deepest clearing at the heart of hearts
at a holy spot where a ray shone
Just one night falling on one cycle  
to awaken a moonflower

She sings the magic wood's tune
to matchmake destined lovers
living in such mirrored cycles

....

The golden  bunch which she then gently grasped
until a fist would became its skin and pulsate
in mindful rhythm

reintegrating the nature of nodes within

reanimating the beat from and through the leaves

delivering health to All its unitless dimensions

The nourisher and the rejuvenated
the heart of joy
a flow
to  find its way this way
along the equifying particles
on one smiling body

she dreamt of

....

Next morning I got up early
seeing the municipal cars aside
with stacks of healthy roots inside
all to be planted in a day
to grow trees
in front of her little house  

and yes she could relate this time

first with bewildered eyes
then with bewildered mind
then with a breathing belly
then with a full heart
she smiled

....

*She was a mystery studying  facts only

Hello Little Prince
Your Eyes Shine
Like Emeralds Of Pines
Your Hair Made Of the Sun
You travel from Star to Star

I draw  each day since you are gone
in all color and form - sound and line
for our rejuvenating living particle
made of crystal of truth
I sense you water my lost dream

I the lover the queen of All Darkness
I the lover the goddess of All Light
remain unreachable
reside on  both -
of your own making they say
- undying and unborn star

Outside of the two or one
you travel to All the glittering
unknown but remembering
of those starting and ending
to recollect living pieces
of that forgotten dream

as if a scent to remember
from lavender fields
brought by a distant whispering
of a northern sky
to fade away
if you choose not to hear

Your experiences- real - reach as vivid pulse
of  a song -  a mantra of love
My roots sense to mature wisdom in all tones of Reds
Innocent is my heart longing for your glowing face
the greens of my leaves reflect
the color of the light of our secret seeing

I shall play no more games of extremes
for you to visualize of me other than what I am
I surrender to you  fully because I know you have seen
many of rose gardens and touched and smelled and cherished
each one - as vital as the cool mountain stream singing for
me the myth of your love spreading

I shall no more play games other than the truth that connected us inseparably
We gave birth to fertility through the bite not more painful than a thorn on my stem
Our love born of the poison of the serpent that connected us
We travel to be healed and to heal the universe
in our shell as we experience to learn and teach
not a mystery but a technology is love where
I shall see you again beyond the body

I the lover of healing fully flowing on one line
Crossed valleys made of fractals of blessings
My colorless strong hair carrier of red blue yellow and green glitter
on streams reaching the oceanic clearing as the victorious salty jump of a whale

As the Heart purifies its Crystal - We Be  One -
Our Home - You - I -. The Rose -
Not the Unreachable - The Dark - None of those Extremes -
but a Rose is I Just  like One of the Many Other Ones -
but One Of a Kind on A Tiniest but A Home for Us Planet  Under Stars
Us --  The Little Prince - The Rose - bring love to universe - when whoever on planets looks up  in pure knowing - to Skies shall sense among all other  Stars Skies and Hearts -  a Universe  made of  Glowing  Vibrating Expanding Delivering Joy is  Divine Love
of the Rose and the Little Prince and the Tiniest Planet made of a living Crystal Heart of Dreams
of the Drawer or of the Reader or of the Dreamer or of You or of I

living particles
made of color
hang light
on top of an unknown
mountain

I do not have any space of time to cry
because I maybe miss you
there you stand right in front of me
at a distance that I can see

a clearing made for us is made of us
a stage of well fit grass circling us

you stand strong long hair maybe
a suit resembling iron
a suit that is a part of your being

you a warrior from timeless time
you came to me now
to stand across me

your gaze
that I surrender to
validates each particle
I am composed of

at rest is I innocent
pure balance
of peace and of joy
magnetic is our love

all the static is you
airy converting all the temporary is I
your endless silent gaze is now
our unconditional presence
made of a posture of standing is one

I won’t ask you why
when my knowing knows
why  

beyond stories
I am
an extension
of
unfinished business

answers to
Q&A; s
precipitate
as mind bound realities
on mundane plane

while all stories remain
mutually exclusive

I remain
irrespective
of your content
my awareness beyond
questions not
I am indiscriminately open
to all your appearances
and know this
and know that
is of I

it creates this
it creates that
to question
if this or that

this wants to beat that
to be one for it

that wants to beat this
to be one for it

it thinks as such

because for it
if this then that not
if that then this not

it thinks as such
not knowing

bearer of that is this
bearer of this is that

both an appearance just
both valid as much
for it to experience
but
it sees not
what is not made of its material
and seeks
what cannot be found

when I catches of you in I’s mind
at once I converts  to a cloud in the sky
because I knows a cloud is no different than you

a basketball bounces to  draw the boundaries of a back yard
a bearer space made of sounds of a game

cloud is such a temporary vessel
carrying you’s finiteness  
or I’s desire of home coming
distances in between  disqualify
exemplifying all I ness outside
you becomes I

Lost in the dreamiest corridors
of presumptions of love
We play hide and seek somewhere
Hung as a  coordinateless  terrace
All made of glass
We perpetually follow a fading echo
resonating our halved hearts

The horror movie made of our minds
A game of endless seeking made of defined time
A jarring laughter of fleeing lines
Sweeping long hair before or after an
edged out fold of an elbow
In prison we are

Caught in  an incessant illusion of expectation of body mind
we seek a time shell
to become the bath of you’s holy breath
and always to a you we cling on as a superfluous desire
misting the enlightened transparency
reflecting the hues of time blurred gleam
An ever escaping dream I am in and
I am hurt until we shall forget to be the very
not resisting move of a prayer
and so  we shall convert  to a thoughtless residue of our own light  
and so we shall pass bodiless through to the lover or I

hihihi
so let’s make him fall in love with her
for fun
so they can play hide and seek
in the endless corridors of their spaceship
where time doesn't exist
All made of a dream
anyone can visit
and listen to the echoes
of a never found love
bouncing back in minds

Imagine
randomly distributed
never settling cycle
dissolving details of cutout silhouettes
resembling maybe a hand
maybe a heel or a skin
always a tip of something fleeing

you name it then
we make it - a classic
always just around the corner
a Fun-set that can easily convert
to a horror movie of one’s mind

It’s a choice really
the hihihi
bewildered eyes indissoluble
Is sche cryin or laugin?
kinda thing

so let’s make him fall in love with her
for fun
so we can see the
hihihi

She shaped as she
on top of that one mountain
carrying all waters of the world
with one of her infinite hands
on top of her head
under that night sky
an offering she was or it
to the moon

the carrier of half moon a copper plate
the lover the moon a reflection of herself
inspiring beauty as a shine
she could reach to the non condensed matter
of a planet where you and I come from
pure light of our home to refract the unseen
that could travel as fast as love
to awaken the rainbow
of our combined heart
a rainbow that could appear
on the world after rain

Rain was her true name
she meditated as her name
for you
as you wished for her
to inspire the smells of condensed fume
she evaporated under that moon

Next day
I guess on a Sunday
one day after a sunny bright cool day
I woke up
not opening my eyes
I knew
the sun would be behind the clouds
I knew unmoving how air felt
I did not know why
until questioning stopped
until my choice of unacceptance of
what is -
what I am -
what I created to be for that day -
gave up
for that was not an affordable weight
morning called instead
maybe a gift the greens said
as they got deeper darker in their greenness
to be praised by the clouds
settled as if they have always been  on these skies
they always do so arrogant
it’s their nature I say
they are as is required to be
I did not mind
and
it rained

and
it rained
and rained
and rained
and I knew
I was awake
and I knew
I rained
and rained
and rained
I rained
for you

Farewell my bike blue
I know the day would come to say goodbye
as it goes with any loved one
My eyes still searching like a hungry creature
every point on the street every blue is you
a hope of light but I know you are gone

I mourn today and share it with the world I live in
the blues that my heart sadly sings is for the departure
of the synesthetic joy we exchanged
during the star-years of change

I received the learning of each and every moment
by seeing you again amongst many others
standing there humbly
waiting for me
as if one of the others

We always knew a secret to shine for each other
You as the blue of the morning sky to release
the heaviness coming from the mind to deliver
a shine of hope in less than a moment of recognition

so way I convert to a light to alight light
and fully become one with you again

we come from a world of soul
you and I
not different in the essence of awareness
definitions separate us just
In our world all things are alive

I knew this would happen soon
three days long I received signs from the universe
that you will be gone
could not /did not want to believe
I did my best to keep the key in my heart
and until today
when a moment of courage was lost
when you were out of sight
and I lost

learning my new body unsupported
collecting  my new mind like
laundry spread on a field
a field where I wish to  kick a ball only
they say you become normal finally
like us you can cry
like us you can feel tired
like our period wish for chocolate
and halt and stop and accept that you cannot swing from a star
why not add a bag of chips to it and a TV screen
I politely refuse each time
I say then I have my bike blue waitin for me sorry I gotta go now

They try  and I try
to understand what they say
Do they mean they can learn things without becoming things?
but do they -those who assign normal -
not know that I have not enough intelligence to do that?
they also see I fail each time I try
as I failed today and also yesterday and also the day before
I don’t believe in normality definitions
no  we cannot be normalized as such or domesticated
but love
because love

Today when I got blurred he showed up
as predicted
at the side of a shadowy street
he gave me a slight sight look just
In the suit of Mr. Passerby
one of the innocent silhouettes doing as if he is not meant to be a silhouette  i said
not suspecting the angel of separation
they always take an appearance of someone
it is for a reason I know and I shall not cry
but I even cried

the reason let me prepare you well at least
for your go last night
It was a sign of a bird
so I cleaned your seat
changed your cover
emptied your bag
tidied your reserves
adjusted your saddle
on my return you were gone
with the key

I sang My Bike Blue written for you all night
still feel you under that star
and I know
I will never see you again
but the song brings us back
to salute us on your moves forward
let they be blessed on their journey
then I am happy - peaceful
each time a joy felt
I am touching your spirit again

she gave me white light
it looks like a light sword
making numerous echo in space
I did not ask for what ...I know
no ornamental word would do

futile definitions
flashy ads
waste of breath

15 minutes of clutter
15 minutes of fame
15 minutes of a life
yep Warhol was right

empty containers
to be filled up
to create -fillers
a byproduct of ego
of a selfless time
oh what an an illusion
I live in sometime
not knowing media as the bird's call

true technology is my received gift
with me inside or you
is there a difference?

we are all embodiment
carrier of the code
essence of eternal

not to hurry though
not to resist
resist resists the self just
I cannot trespass the chanting
I shall not think to try
thinking is my only sin

why do we fight?
mo and mu were the same guy
two incarnations in one or three
born at different times
their writers failed just

the difference definer
yes definer and not the creator
'create' remains holy
with a spirit – like words with
spirit-  
running memory
activated by sound maybe

the difference definer sets bricks
of flamboyance
en route escape to escape lifetimes
invites the endless cycle of fight

could fray be for peace
and not by cowardice?
fear is my only sin
born from ignorance
of self
as in my- as in your-
not a portmanteau but
an affix by nature
so there is no difference

let fray be for peace
then A joker's viola
let it be a joke for
a joyous while
for a joyous halftime
you don't need do much really
if you can whistle once
under the golden sun
through your belly
somewhere in a cool place
selfless illusion fades
there is nothing else

no book could describe
as such
I have crossed libraries
with my starship
but the source light
not bound to time so yes
for whatever it was
I closed my eyes

slowly learning to dance now
along its wings
it has more to tell then its aesthetics

we cross dimensions while
we perpetually make some
the reflection the waveform
in a little note we harmonize
my fingertips- carrier of a glow
I - the particle of light
we pass
and yes after each turn
there is a you to learn from
or I to be.

Mi and Yu are well tuned on a common line of blue
When Mi strums blossoms a flower of blue
When Yu plucks flutters a bird of blue
Along the blues of blue highways
Mi and Yu shall meet one day to sing a song of blue
so that  the blues up above can tune to marry rain clouds
so that the blues down below can bloom the gloom
of lavender fields  
so that the blues in between can bolt airy shapes
to glitter their star thymidine
for waters
to mirror their matter
along the supreme
in transparent tones of aquamarine

When Mi takes off her blue flower patterned blouse
Yu holds a blue flower to touch her silky skin
all that love making happen in ripple glitter
along the surface of  a blue lagoon of my childhood dream

so ends the Mi line that starts the Yu line
so ends the Yu line that starts the Mi line
singing a neverending circular song of love
rounding hues -
expanding primary blues -
blooming glooms into
the coalesced blue
heart tones of Mi and Yu

I play a game of chess with Marcel Duchamp
Stripped bare totally but with looks still in the mood
I make a final move to rook him into my moan
'You know I want to be the darkest queen of your dreams'
He lifts calm his queen as his eyebrows but without really looking at me
picks up my rook contiguously
deepens some of his penetrating basses and whispers playfully:
' You already are my sweet Rose Sélavy and shall stay so eternally but …
you know … for now...'
and that 'but...for' mutes my **** mount line
highlights a grin of an ingenious rhyme and briefs a victory
on every strategic corner he knows to reach so well to
at once turn me on at an endgame pattern of check
to mate
'... c'est la vie sweet Monsieur S' he whispers
' I want to be the lone king for my queen'
and pushes solid his queen towards my defenseless territory.

I never knew
trees move
always
with all of their insides
along horizontal lines
and towards vertical ups
in curly circular
turbulent motions
and never keep still
reach to the tiniest
veins
on top
one by one
time by time
non stop
and unitedly
create wind
All of the winds of the planet!
I thought it was otherwise
I thought they kept still just
Wait to speak somehow or mumble
until the winds would show up or
bow their heads
until they'd be swept away
choicelessly accept move or die
but no
they move as such ...
by all their insides
so that
winds are created
upon their dance request
It is a call to ventilate the earth
and they have eyes !
different than ours
they can see multiple skies
they whirl
so clouds can pass  
faster than we know to see
they see
as if we accelerated a camera motion
but also they see more skies than one
not like us ….just one
not like us …...only when we look up
cause their eyes make the clouds and skies pass
and all that they do  is all they can do
because they are rooted to the earth
fully …. here they are
always one with the earth
always supported by the earth
only to create that curly vertical
neverending motion
so that it delivers
same frequency creatures back to the earth
I never knew that they are so busy
always at breathe is not easy
for simpler ones like us
imagine not a gap alone
oh no
I never knew
until I became
a tree
alone
:)

You don’t have to come
when it’s my call apart!?

I am following the route of
my promise
given
to a child
a girl with a stray cat
always found by the same cat  
different color
different shape
once she also read the Tripods
long ago
but

No
You are not
her White Mountains
I met you on the way

Find the truth
for me- she said
in plain joy
bring us home
when you grow up

Home was where you could create magic

A spherical  -transparent ball
a living crystalline - singing
made of colorful -universe particles

don’t forget
this one also has a crest
remains invisible to
they who do not
already know
the way - inscribed
along caves
above the eye-  and
promise to keep me
alive by your side
as a beat in your heart

I promised
...
I grew up
...
I forgot
…

Forgot to remember

until I met love
until I heard the beat
and remembered
and escaped just

No
You are not so near
You are always here
It was me who ran away

I saw it all coming
before
our roads crossed
and planned to
lend you my heart
for a temporary time
of mortal maybe
while
calculating
if -s

If
I were
not
good enough
for me
for you
for her
…

Keep it well I said
and plain for me
cause I gotta be free
and promise to always
stay oceans away
from me
is
our decree of creativity

Pains I passed
belonged to
the absence of
her or of you
were set as traps
on  both sides
of a rewinding tape
each gaze pulled us back
to the same awful track
until I learned to move ahead
cause you gotta be free
yeah and  keep it well for me
cause we gotta be free

For we
I travelled worlds
of  the destroyer
until I learned to destroy time
and move ahead
from a central soundless line
some of the illusionary erased
others of truth stayed
to make difference
at shores of wisdom
at  waters of innocence
at crests of all sense
I was healed for
the healed is here
to heal
but
alas
in the meantime
you made my heart real

Choiceless and reduced to one
I bounced back to you and
to a place where we started
as if  a promise is broke now
or of decree surpassed
hoping the -only if-
by creativity
?
all we can do is walk
the unknown verse
made by a quest
towards the sun
we shall see then
the golden dawn
at rest is at now
blessed we are and one
truth of her dream we become
or else none (be destroyed by time)

and they sang bold
the chorus of her dream

Is she home yet?
or still out playing ? ...again with that cat
mom said
as if
...
but no
all I heard was my heartbeat.

As I walked
the usual
dark alley
unhurriedly
I looked through
the living room
of three figures
standing around
a table
under a huge
glassred lamp
discussing something
maybe about the glow
which seemed nothing important
to discuss about
but crucial
to keep them together
implying the warmth made
of their circular bright light

I did not slow down to look further
just rendered quickly
the visible to eyes subtle details
of their well chosen wooden furniture juts and
the color combination fitting well here and there
to complement the tones of the woods as if
things were meant to be useful for them
were in fact secretly placed to color

I will also have a red lamp when I grow up I said suddenly

Just the fool’s remark longing to reserve a
placeless thought in my mind
Placing me in a long forgotten abandoned time
in no time
smiled
and realized
only after they all passed
as  if a ship faded
I remained
within an illusionary mobility  
swept in waves
dizziness like sea-sickness
reminded
through a fresh splash
of tiny airy droplets that
I am already grown up

Were these the call of the stars
I looked up
and left a frozen smile amongst

No I am not intending to own any red lamp very soon
Owning things require an objective responsibility
to build their unleashed memory
to be passed over to nexts
by smells by touches by lives to commemorate  

Stars justified just
They were my ceiling since a while really
of streets that  I live in to dream only
about tales about houses about little things mostly words
then again cannot really rely on or be relied on

Words follow each other and not always can I stop to pen
I immerse and be one of them
that’s then home for me
for a while for a moment
temporary
as is life without a purchasable red lamp
or haven’t I yet found that very roof  
made of all of me’s each fully longed
there is one obviously one
sometime
sometime when time is not questioned
and that’s only when I can make one
maybe yes make one
is an egress
like she always says
draw one
write one
as I do now
or maybe one physical one
that may be the dream of someone
who knows
as long as it grows
to something that can be passed on
full heartedly
with its imperfections
signed by the spirit only
for hearts
may they interpret it as freedom
and yes that’d be something
to travel with
further than the reckoned
counts left from now
39 maybe
if I am lucky
and for that kind of measure
if I am one
now
there still is some 18 counts more to go
till the Red Lamp
would that number also be good enough for growing up
Right?
or was the logic vice versa
hmmm so
obviously there really  is a subject matter of growing up still
the fool was right  in the end
right again in fact
with its flourishing heart
so I can then also stand to see
the you
in the glow of my red lamp
with me
Would that be in the light of eternity?

The Sun Is Shining Today
The Storm Has Finally Stopped

a statement says:
<we have done something yesterday
nothing like our best
just something
to stop that storm>
the statement returns true as fact

inconsequent gestures of nature
we weave
to serve an unknown wish
-made of numerous physical and non-physical senses-
so that fabric of a network  
evolves  itself
materializes sense
sense to fabric
fabric to sense
scientifically improbable it remains

an infinitesimal loop
unwinds when you are not there
runs within an ideally operating closed circuit
remains invisible to the factual eyes of daily lives

an etheric vitality
materialized by our definable senses of touch, of smell, of see, of taste
and some of yet undefined ones
- possibly  assigned to maybe a Poetic Variable-
executable within that program of simultaneous causalities only.

So then Only then
When You Combine the patchy Network
of Things
of Beings

You Can Dance Them
Sing Them
Play Them
Make Love To Them
Become One With Them
Compose Them

but

All these on condition that
it remains as an unpacked gift

Without telling to Yourself  
or to Others
or to That Storm
because
You Don’t Even Have An Intention To Stop The Storm
All you do is Wish for Sunshine so you can maybe bike tomorrow

But again

How important is it really that biking tomorrow ?
I mean when sighs and cries whirl around?

a statement says:
<you can’t stop wars by fights>
the statement returns true as fact

And

if I know that
you can stop storms by touches

touches to smells
smells to lights
lights to metals
metals to elements
elements to stars
stars to flights
flights to a breeze on my fingertips
breeze on my fingertips to an auric kiss

then

I think maybe it is **** important to keep a seemingly futile wish to bike to a beach of my dreams tomorrow
so that I can be blown away on a broken December day
and let my long hair collect dune corrals  made of cosmic ray

Huh So Yeah

I can Stop Storms if I want to or Create Some!
- not because I need to for my own sake or think about it.

your arousal fantasy
is a catch for me
comes in sound waves
enters my head
from the right ear
but no action required
I say
just observe
so I
pull it up a bit
- the activated tip
in the crypt -
from the line beneath
towards the umbilicus
spread
- the well calculated
as if instantly
phononized insanity
validating
vibrational ascendancy-
along the void
and render
all the whatever
patiently
in less than a moment
lest the mind won’t interfere
amid balancing the belly
I half
the remaining
equally
push one lump towards the zenith
another vis-a-vis the right feet
so it finds a correct exit
while especially the
toe tip
beside the small one is affected to be
the immediate target of delete
I shut personal sensations
of ‘I don’t like it’
so that I can dump
with a pure desire
to return to sender
as is required
as much as earth receives
air insists
for its ascending part
an accuracy of might
a simultaneous rush of flow
a cause of cranial vertigo
lasting less than a moment
on the right
quasi ready to squad
the head
but No - I fight not
fighting means slavery at your side
whereas your side exists not
without that foxy fight
hidden under smarty pants just
a mystified puff-gloom intensifies
but gets shot
in one bite
ready to gobble the pretender
which I am not
and flushes oh the so lonely
oh the so broken hearted
transforms to a flatus-cloud
heads up and up
en route the dark
skies full of angry-clouds
oh my brrrrrrgghhhh
even they take it not
hurriedly move aside
an irregularly contoured
eloquent ******  
ethereal space shapes
softly
along the
cotton like subtlety
pliantly tight
so you can pass
while I happily look up
to sing the
Oh Lovey-Dovey
See!
You also have some use
Finally
and Yes!
The sun shines for us
most beautifully
diminishing your blues
through the enchanting
blue of the patchy

when angels get deadly bored in  angelland
they decide to matchmake yin and yang
a breathtaking game of -love and hate- kicks off
their watch broadcasts meditative brittle glitters
as expected from the dutiful glitter brittles

finally they also have fun
oh the glorious common hearted one

but for a while it remains
and ubiquitousness escapes

within that while infinite loop
while with
condition always returns
true
  
assured  they are
to have hoarded a concept of none
because only none can break the program

it runs
through
curls and whirls
attracts and repels
hums and vector sums
bubbly groans
made of sour cherry wood drums
asymptotic shapes of ascension moans
'Oh yes this surely is miraculous!'

one for fun
one for ‘oh please be my hon’
Stay at the jolly night of proms with us
we are so heartily amused!

They travel beyond ignorance
to a pointless point of their own absence
‘for the land’
they repeatedly say
from far far away

lost words as such
slowly produces by-products
made of tingly-wiggly bugs
capable of delaying holiness
of now
capable of creating time
for no one
with a halt sign

until game of supremeness bears a ...
break!
made of HUM
a Sound
like none
heard once
along the aileron of  a vitreous dome

while
the unheard stays
with the one
and which is of one

wipes off that angelland
for the better I guess

when we are truly free
Mountains are our rocks
We their ears and eyes
meditate
Monumentalized
Watch oceans and skies
Sing a sacred song
outside timeness
Unknown to our minds
but with our hearts

maybe it really is
as my good friend says teasingly
that I be no good
with kitties n kiddos

“But you are good among them!
There is difference you know
They love to play with what
they recall as one of them”

No offense!
he adds and laughs
I smile - Yeah?

Does he mean ...maybe
These kitties and kiddos
are some sort of teachers?

which I mix up with love?

while they only mean  to break
my circle symmetry so I can rise
up a spiraling uncertainty ?

Is that why I fell for Second Law
then crashed ...with the all of me
gorged inside to be scattered outside?

Easy way out I guess
sleeping with books
cheating me
I can read
while asleep

and now
from these times and lines
dunno what really still trails
hopefully a piece of mind
that dares
to question the essence
of the glorious teachers
who illustriously tried to show
a fleshing out truth
of me

it’s no mystic the reply to the question
‘but when do I see?’
one step away lies truth
always in love and made of now

I better be asking… then
when dare you pass?
and stay
and be
now?