he is five in one
she is consecutively
one two three
changing
pitch
treble
pressure
intensity

to fit perfectly
in his one  
composing time

one divides to
all the replaceable and irreplaceable
limit approaches to infinity
parabolic ends stretch
at both ends
of all planes
at all frequencies

while
delivery
these two
shall not see
or hear
which of which
they themselves
be

their love making
the lance of
the invincible shape

bends the universe
to embody
the immutable verse
the supreme sound

where
none is
the undefined bearer
of the material
of love
of one

where
lovers
sacrifice themselves
for each other
within each other

become
a material of generations
to be activated by
a conscious flash

just a Joker!
reborn
from a hum
and
Alas!
the cycle of time.

Once
Once
Oh only Once
...

Tuning in...
...

Truth
Truth
...

Truth
of
the
self
...

Speechless

is­ this knowledge
All knowledge

Abiding

Light of the self
...

not a word
not a breath

to pause for

nor a body
in truth
...

Has this body
ever been
other than the
lines encapsulating
...

Shape of
a moment

of an embrace

of this uninterrupted dance

made visible
a while

for which
by which
and as which

We dance
...

Dance!

Dance
of life!

Evolving

its immaculate
infinite sided crystal

like the germ of an
ethereal flower

delight of knowledge
within
...

Move!
Move as if

as if

so these subtleties
become
sentient

by the steering
of your grace
...

Awareness

of oneness
of temporality
or of the form of you

like the child caressed

One with the self

I changed a title recently
Not so deliberately
neither to bother nor to make happy
but a joke at most
when it comes to wishful thinking.

It was a moment in the shower
‘a bit of singing
a bit of equation solving
a bit of cleansing’
then I knew what was missing
so it goes...
while you do as if you are not thinking
but you still think
with the side of your mind
during sleeping
cooking
washing the dishes
ironing
…

All these irrelevant daily tasks
serve for creating motion
to resolve an x
that sits not so right
in your mind
towards some essence

I changed a title recently
Not so deliberately
to make you happy
or sad
or paranoid
or mad

It's just a matter of knowing
the true self
at most

tell me if there is more than that
but I know you can’t.

before they made it public
they created the technology
to create living puppets
producing a tapestry of thoughts
manifesting
through the filter
of authentic bodies
and minds

their enchanting color of
implemented poison

they had two versions of the site
one the true one and one the public one

the true one was
showing the nature of a mind
in a spherical wireframe
3-d
projected space

that could make the motives
of a mind truly observable
using this hi-tech breakthrough
(hi-tech for their time only
i.e  their hi-techness is still
bound to time)
to/by/for those
word loving
businesspeople
and hired scientists
and hired technologists
and hired creatives
and hired psychics
and hired you name a profession I will say yes es  
of their time
working for them
for an almost literally ground breaking technology

a time bound technology that showed them an observable truth of the visualized data
a design driven and poached from the participants’ ingenious minds

the public version on the other hand
looked naively innocent
with an amateurish design
using a ready to go script
presenting an acceptable ‘good site’
based on personal motives
of hard working profiles
of young idealist sisters and bros
you know
like teddies pathetically hugging each other all the time

in reality though
snail shells were being used to implement
new poisons for the game
on unshelled ones
poisson as is French
would be prettier term
to describe
an honest organic fish farm
but alas

yet in reality that hugging was distant jutting

to purposefully run a game that entertained
pockets of those who had it boringly full only
to spend it for their own fun
but which they vowed as
for the salvation of their Utopian land made of the
illusion of their materialistic psyche same as their popcorns
which  continually justified as they  repeatedly asserted
these well learned set of words
on communal and cyclic ceremonies

oh my!
stealing intellects as such!
for the game!
game also runs in a closed circuit just
so no one can see it
they have all passed the Turing test
for the game
cool right
and it works

so who on earth could judge its’ ethics
once a reflection of their own minds
even unknowingly the game admins
once falling in love
with unshelled ones
may turn to the unshelled ones
like the prince falling for a Lorelei
they were warned continually
and then still some
willingly stayed so
in love
and disappeared in the game
loosing their body

well whatever
there is a place though
don’t believe me because I say there is
go find it yourself

from that place
the headquarters of this game
is nudely visible
with all of its partaking pawns
because it remains too low a place in the universe

yes there is a mountain higher
where lives
the inhabitants of the residence of the destroyer
who are a little bit bored by now and since some time already
and so the destroyer -they think- may as well decide to
wipe it off - hiring a well fit dragon that can gobble it all in one go
so that dragon excretion may benefit a famine of sorts in the universe
eating that kinda stuff
****  yeack  ARG hhhh
(or Namaste!)
:)

you were fire in my dream
fire made of color
I say fire but don't know really
maybe you were color looking like fire
dancing in a space
changing shapes
perpetually
it looked like dancing to me
but it was more of a performing an unknown reality
I watched you from afar
A far as near as half of me
static and icy
sitting maybe
but also performing a duty
as if
hmmm
cannot tell what really
more than the awareness about our compulsory duality.

just a poem it was
A poem of love at most!
in the form of
a flower,
a rainbow,
a bird ,
a tune,
a word ,
a picture

Some came in written
in technological terms
Some quantized
as futuristic incense

You have sensed it all
the untold
Even long before my say

Not ‘the all’ go though
through
You know … once you can close yourself,
set a fence…

but in that latter case
although you may have done your best
to shut these gates
It seems they have reached premises against
without my knowing
aethēr so lucid does trespass  
once built an absolute bridge through souls of equivalent selves.

Each n every time is  mine a hopeless cry to make you furious ?
A touch at the physical and meta-physical to eventually develop anti-sense?

Naturally so easy
As you reside at an exact opposite side of me

Angered n equally frustrated
in rage of a momentous burst
You  sell my identity
<Intimately-shared-digital>
to a dreadfully operating net-entity
and target me as if to spears
oh how that really hurts
maybe you wished so
but no not really

a boomerang brings in a rhyme
of a thoughtless action
returns it to the center of a rotating spiral
where you stand
the exact opposite end

I won’t allow though
You to frown
this way you learned to simmer n cool down
became a clown of your own ghost town
as we’re entangled beings
already since sometime

so let me just also have fun
Instead of you- bring me down
On the competing wheel game of up n down
Oh no there we sit not anymore!

Realize to have targeted a wrong one
Once it is so much alike  an opposing side or a town or a crown
Of you and both eventually you!
So wonder in sane what did I do
And put a SPAM mask on
To warn me through
and clearly do as if you were one of them:
an Intellect-Deficient-Agent scam.


So let me just  P.S.  a burp here now
Haven’t learned to develop gallstones of anger to compete thyn
but joy at most with a parasympathetic smile
Take it as a blessing if you like or a teasing
that she has you loved so without your willing
and equally convert it to a bile.

Pure desire is what shaped this body
Pure desire is what healed this finger I burnt yesterday
instantaneously with just one mantra
so that I can write my love word to you

Pure desire is what I am
And will be
for one of your touch
And shall stay so  
always near
or from far away
with whoever you wish to be
Feeling you this way
Is my joy
I shall gift as love
And sprinkle to universe
Knowing you are I

Wishing you gift
This passion
To enlighten and rise
Humanity to a level
That they truly are
And should be
The highest
Of gods
And goddesses

Let’s touch them
With pure love
Let them be free
Free oh free
Peace to three worlds
Of  hearts
Let them make love
And stay free

No matter what forms
you choose to assume
Which life stories
you get involved in
I only know you as I know myself
When every morning
I open my eyes
Rested or tired
in dim lights
By one of your call
Of my name in your
Mind
I shall awaken
And kiss you
as if you are by my side
In serene silence
Listen to the dawn-welcomers
and know your heart is with me
Just as today
Just as yesterday
Just as now

You have no names for me
All names are you
Your name equals to all names
I shall always remain
After and before a touch
As one language
Of pure desire for you

Pure desire is what enlightens my path
To give birth to you by my breath
And make love to you in human form
Pure desire is what keeps me long
for the eternal day in shapeless form
I’ll stay in one posture of our love
Of you and I

Once my duty as a beloved
Is completed
On this world

For you
And
for you
And
for you

"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.

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

and she walks the heart’s road
one more time
the known letter becomes unknown
last time the first time

she allows vapors of  thrill shape
as much as wisdom approves time
Know your place she says
don’t fly up too high
that’s uncivilized far
See I am standing calm inside
hear me?
on the ground
body feet well aligned
agreed ?
yes and no agreed
you anyway cannot disagree
It's only my politeness that asks
She walks like the wind  blowing pure joy
a gifted natural balance of posture
being one with the time
of man and of woman and of child
whatever she becomes
at once the crowd
Their laughter makes summer
like a hypolimnetic volume in the temperate
reflects to universe as a place to perch  
amongst stars (when you sometimes pass)
while they seemingly cross traffic lights
led by a black dog
and a red cat (hiding in a mysterious plant)
as if she knows us  
from somewhere
or I her
as if this has no consequence
as if
she says
and the sound defines

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?

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

O sappy daffy incongruous frog
Waiting for a beauty queen
to be kissed by
to turn to a prince in your dream

You want some lessons
on art?
You want some lessons
on art?

then come to me
For ye it’s gonna be for free!
Oh come to me
I can teach you how to read
Poetry
in manners that are non-slurpy
and slimy
As your automatic long tongue

I be a friend and a lover and a teacher
For the manifesto of our Love

We’ll read  as loud as we can with our combined reptilian heart

Let’s shout until we silence
Let’s shout until we can be heard
as and by and for the silence of the spirit

Without defining
Gentleness
to be assigned to any poetry

Let’s trespass these fake borders
of the image of our predefined
Body
in our  
As boring as can be
shells
made of the phrase
Only clever birds sing it as:
“This has been done already”
before
Your shout would silence
My Palpating heart

Please do not misunderstand my
Love word
and traditionalize

As mushrooms grow
Under rotten
Floors
Of urban flats
or lies
Like
La la la lies

and pathetize
Yes Pathetize
my words
Without understanding what they’d truly mean

When words
Combine to a phrase with the spirit
Truth shouts
but not the cynic

Like a poisonous
Venomic-Tonic
Made of the scared sound of your blood

which should have instead been sacred
by the earnest of our lovership

and
Without any of your definitions of poetic

You shout
You shout like politics
Which is meaningless
For true ears

A defined silence
has no power to trespass
Boundaries of conditioned
aesthetics of your
Learned poetry

Let's dare to read love now
As plain and clear and straight
As can the truth of hearts be
without the need of any gelatinous stickers
or the chess board tattooed
Along the skin softness of
our sitting bones

He
whom I once met
along three cities
sends me
fleeting messages now
about suns and clouds
from a magic land

while
I am awash
in the passion
of a gargantuan orange ball
almost bouncing
the pungent shade
of my Nordic dream

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.

when the moon
draws a shape
maybe a flower or a heart

along the homogeneous equivalence of an
asphalt – oh are you driving so fast?

made of the frosty glitters of the night

show the generosity
to accept a gift
a gift that can make a difference

it’s been set apart for you
and only for the blessed you.

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

I live alone
in a room
my only friend
a rock plant.

A vase made of sighs,
converts **** non-audible AIs
to an unknown hymn,
replaces a half broken arm.

or was that a dream
during a harvest time?
or was that a gift
from a dear one?

I live alone
beside a window under skies
in a vase
made of colorful spots
my only friend
a girl
meditates in the room somewhere.

She, my sole flower
is a shape of a pink heart.
Her subtle transparent edge
glows my petal of gleam,
filters a beam,
and makes a rainbow kite.

My leaves, center her single dream,
carry a code of a parabolic green.

At dawn, she sings a love song,
invites all the blues of skies.
At dusk, she migrates them towards tones of nights.
A dot sinks within the brightests of stars
and finally
into my heart of hearts.

She collects then pure droplets
from a precipitating river - crossing unknown realms
in which of each
every season
a silver moon blossoms
to reflect a blue-green star,
she ultimately waits for:

‘That one!’ she shouts
deepening her pinks,
beating rapidly,
shaking my photosynthetic organs
‘There... we come from!
from the dancing, shapeshifter one!’


She, my only friend is a dreamer for none.
A dream of dreams about an unknown realm.
A girl with big words,
‘Someday’ she says ‘Someday,
when we be one as a timeless time but
I hold a key of Now from you for now
as much as I am of you,
Love will be a technology then for all - as is
then we be of love and One’.

‘but for now’ I say ‘for now’
‘at least, be my only one’
and I dream…
dream about a shape of the moment of that very someday
when she finally understands
and ‘yes that blessed someday’ I say,
and as usual nod and tune my stem.

What is a day when you wake up in meditation
this body is inseparable from this light
and the mellowly blowing signless flag
singing only to one side
and the brown edge
beckoning
nothing else than its edgeness

Skin having already freed itself from the weight bearing traces of the dust of my mind
capturing smooth
the light –
melting differences over the bumpless
recalling velvety longing

not for the sake of the material but
Saluting
the freedom that has once recorded this twin light
long ago
on such surface

for its manifestation
…

bringing awareness about the tempter
on senses
and again imploding its imaginary cavities
on the touchless curves of a sofa
newly displaying the angle of
its wooden edge
drawing a perfect eighty five degree Invisible line
in space
towards the webless corner -just noticed-
where the eye gets relieved by its neatness
and relaxes
becoming the point of a trivalent stillness

This – the edgy- is a sister of these Sofa legs
Four in all

implying itself as a sexiest part of its couch –
couch of a type – as it says
owning each other
now
Like body and sense
in one posture
and in its remembered object name

and maybe ready to unfold memories Alas
if there would be openness to listen
or if I were what it could allure me to be for its charm

but No – it says nothing this time
mending time through fractals of its becoming my spaceless space
with the old radio set aside
never playing more than its silent tunes for those skaters in an etching of an ancient landscape hanging on the wall above since …
since before the internet age
showcasing a memory that nobody knows and can see or hear but smell maybe
beside a winter blossom
flourishing its inspiration

not understanding each other but requiring the same attention as my body does
or as the realization of a thought that I could not run up that hill as fast as that dog –

a dog being observed behind a glass and I am unsure if this observation could have effect on the style it puts to the run

or if my observation is being observed and that may be a reason of its action as such
as if it does so to show off – Really!
unknowing to who or what
and then again still …

AaaaaW !!!! Shut up!

No no no ! I should stop now

what may make a catch less of a catch
putting things of importance of a day on a scale of indifference
and then again what is this nosy urge
unallowing
interfering
asking for order!?!

It is a play.

See ?!
even if you like it or not
I am in and such is
You yOU YoU

A play as true as the one watching
Same actually –
Same as the one watching

Watching or steeped in
Space in Space

and/or
No Space

and/or
non of these Things

nonetheless
A day remains
Unending
as the mind fades to embrace
Wordless

*Like the day
rainbows are manifesting
from the heart of this inspiration

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

just Before
she approaches the counter
to scan and pass
she hears a sound in her head:

‘Don’t take the short cut

because it is convention
because it’s easy
because it’s top technology
because it pleases the tired body’
…

because oh because
kinda excuses  
humming and rhyming  
different ways
of sayings of  a
‘that makes sense’

all meaning the same
sung in a metropolitan opera
by the inhabitants
of this city

makes you up or your body
decorated by a lost lamented self
in a brand new glittery pack
made of your shell

empty inside
belongs now
to some stupid force outside

made existential by the soul sellers
visible to soulless just

you as much as of theirs
and by their approval
need to cross
scary landscapes
to accept the glittery pack
until and  if and when
you can witness
to forgive yourself

and that only when
you’re back
to yourself

again
once more
sadly
lost it all

at the end
of your life
standing still
at the start
of your life story

just
like I
but
who cares the I
if not I

your lives inside  
gone
while years erase a memory
of the futile
search
which could never become like
theirs/
promises /
illusions

so think twice
before you scan and pass

Compared to your heart’s road
how  long that short cut really is
when you are so far away from yourself.

If it would be up to me
I would be facing now
...
Rocks

Cool elegance
formed by the flexuous splash
Wild is the temper belonging
to the change of the impending season
the bleak-dark growing deep inside
A passion higher than the unreaching
tangent of a sharp urge unable to cut
by a smoothing of a creamy surface
Opaque by nature
hiding explosions inside
Bearing mysteries of the swallowed sounds
of seasons

Seasons of all the knowing
Covered by  ...as if
the fabric of the unknowing
of the autumn waves
of the sea that grew teardrops
Washed away at once
by a fierce Splash
Shifting the mind
as the slapped face of the shores lamenting
remerge
Covered with its courageous green
A regenerating variant elongating savor
to the nose coloring the mind
by the help of a long Forgotten
rush of the algae unseen
diffusing Joy
drifting the rhythm
of a piano of a Turkish contemporary
unlikely to be heard through this maddening
storm where I am standing tall at the edge
In perfect effortless balance
Saluting the gusting and the turbulent
of all sides encircling to provide
the stillness of a home at hearts
As they used to do

O
My friends
Stay Stay this time!
As if a song
flourishing
the smile inside
As I used to do
gestureless
and they would see

But I will need to cross soon
the horizon approaching
Vertical
I only came to see you
One more time
embrace you
the last time
walk with you
through the bazaars and bridges

Our memories trapped in tidal fluctuation
Spanning generations over the Bosphorous
traces of dolphins patiently carrying
holding on to the edges
of old fishing boats
Wood hardly bearing
these ashes made of stars
Waiting to be born again
by my one look into the water
like the first one
A cry of eternity
and Today
I am heading home already
crossing this place only
where you brewed me to love
in this old drawing of truth
plainly framed
hanging
on this play
for a farewell

Ashes to alight to the sky
sculpting the light of poetic alignment
of you and I
in the eyes of the loving

A deliverance of Enjoyment of the being
Shall be my duty says a passerby carrying
The matchmaker's match for all
Until the final journey
where I shall eternally Stay
Stay this time
but
I am heading home now
I only came here to set you free

Oh the kiddos outta there
whoever again dare to call me names that end it with a Girl or a Mademoiselle

You at most reflect an image of me to fit to the level of your potency
same as to a ridicule of your fantasy
weeping and spitting big turfs of
-at most admirably-
musical words
as your age allows you to be

an equivalence that functions still
OH THE WOW in most efficiency
only whenever the rhythmic pumping ejects seedlings
to swim up the rat-race
from your reptilian starship  
parked at sacred ocean’s depths
crossing a few inches behind thyn abdomen
towards your jellyfish brain

and that’s shorter than TIME
oh the poor whining with BIG Holy One
hidden in the oaths of your monstrous
zombie-town

so now listen in PURE Attention to me (if you can)  

It’s True my first kiss was at age twenty three
HAHAHA and yet not even a romantic one
at most an obligatory
who knows maybe a task
from the higher self
probably to teach me
or the physical body -

YES and the last one at age forty
that tried to **** all the ****** futility outta me
the rest and the in between remains dark and edgy and thorny

who cares when it does not bother me
what business does relate to you oh my Sexuality
or the inherited ****’ beauty
but that makes not less of me when
I am now almost 43  
my coal black hair made of Sea Breeze
grows the beauty of my aging color
to the creamy WHITE topping of delicious wisdom cookies
baked by my peaceful wishing
the joy of my child innocence remains
to fire Passion and Desire
which I reserve
to one/ single poem only
who made me realize the truth of me recently  
that I  haven’t yet dated … a Monsieur
who dares to call me a Madame
with whom I can fully be Me and grow towards a maturity.

When it comes to forgiveness
In truth there is not a single body
to be forgiven except for your own
Let go of that self with an inner smile
Let these subtle flocculation dissolve in the pipelines
By inner knowledge
and flow Down the back
drawing the borders of the levator scapulae
On Both sides of the neck
where both lines shall meet to run down
through the gutter of the cervical curve
A clearing and space created for it by compassion and
Skin Replaced by the regenerated cells of the mind purified
And that pseudo-self delivered from the sacrum to the ***** of mother earth
with a truthful farewell.

But s/he ,
s/he who had a dream
was in your dream
recently
to tell you
a secret
given to it
by an ascetic
in its dream

The warrior
s/he said
is who you really are

that’s why
you should be
here and now
an avatar
of countless postures of you

manifest
an energy
which can convert
renew
and
is to be delivered to
the identical selves
through
invisible aural tunnels

These resonate ideally
remain non-audible
except for the two
communicating ends.

s/he or it
in your dream
-might have been a messenger
a messenger to deliver you the message-
was linked
in a sense that you might not want
but should honor
for the upcoming task
set on the warrior’s path

and you two
have one great number
a written secret

s/he or it has acquired
through an ascetic
in its dream
and you
from it
in your dream
in a form
that you won’t forget
but which
nobody will ever notice or
find back

written
on a side of a white torn bit
sheltered
in the house of the spirit
the path of truth should be received

As a Choice Only
in Full Consciousness
with Full Knowing Only

because
when once received
truth as love  
is one way exit
you must know-make it your gift

longing incites the illusive
when illusive is incited
a rose fragrance
rises
to stop the four.petalled turn
the Visionary.Imaginary whips shadows
to block the true sight

you lose then your moon cycles
step on a thorny dark edge
to be tested
to find the way to truth
to find means to create the path

intuition is your only : trust the breadcrumbs
and the upright flying bird
has the breath of genuine  
to set the next vibratory path
  
at both ends
of a stretched  line
twin natures should awaken
in rhyme
and be made one
let then the following program run:

opposite charges to return a kiss
a kiss to collapse the helix
right there
as far as the integers of the soul’s string  
the exit to truth lies at a clearing

Walk the cave made of the living
illuminated by the full moon’s shine
Let your cycle return before dawn

so ends an end by you two as Two becomes One
It’s just a dot or a line or a number which ends and starts.
There is no difference really at a place without Time.
or at an eternal frequency which is timeless.

We cannot tell you more.
That’s all our nature allows us to know.

Have you also smelled the snow today?
I reckon!

It came to me eyes shut
A little summer breeze outside

Carried by an undeceive December rain
Waiting for a rainbow sunshine
But it never happens!

And I know it is unlikely
here the snow  inside
or meteorologically outside

except maybe it’s on your sight light-years away
I should be smelling a living joy as what is lost of me

and so I become a snowflake
to connect
hang just
above a mountain lake

a bit nonchalant
as I like to be sometimes
by my temperance the wind balanced
so that I stay upright
above an exact measurable point
become the fairest of fairies
a fairy-bride feathery white

for fun

but also to pass on spirits of me properly
as I stretch myself from dust  to my wholest parts
I become the matter of the flake’s material
and I don’t care but know only by being
the duped me infinitesimally

either the one above this lake or another
slowly descending one
to touch the tip of your nose or lip or forehead
And I know then you will recognize me at once
when I tickle you softly
as you know so well by now  
how it thrills and hurts in one breath
cold or hot spot
that’s what our game is about right?

Which one is of you or of me
haha I DON’T KNOW really THE DIFFERENCE it seems
is getting a little blurry
AND that not only for me but also for you
or thee
and that very last one for fun or for the sake of the rhyme ONLY!

Let you go now

after weeks of insomnia

cause you've got a heart at last



hope it brings joy for a while -

my aftertaste...like:

'Oh the sweet bitterness I truly zest'



the wind talks wisdom today

so Let's just Hooray!

'maybe a heart kills but dies not.

Celebrate it grow 'n it will immortalize'



for A heart worth dreaming about

I shalll wait.

a thruway  Along the lightyears of ages

until you'll arrive.



Arrive at where we’ve first met

t'ween the Dead Ringer Gate

One of good and one of bad.



and be sure it’s not gonna be a next life this time!

We will  head on hand in hand along a secret path back home



so...until then

I remain

with Love

A

Listen to the beat
Take the road
you always compose
silences
of traffic of light
frequency of each pass
renews an auditory
tone of an unknown speech
the colored pitch
tap N
speed up
to cut to
edit
a fading melody
a distortion in reality
to awaken the forgotten symphony
hung in ears while you are half asleep
singing a truth of you from all of you
a gifted silence from your source well
is a wish to come true

Oh what am I doing?
Where am I?

She suddenly arises
and finds herself
write alone
at the corner of a street café

Almost midnight
Traffic
-an ambiguous passer by-
endlessly composes
lingering silences  
in between

with a half gaze
around half a circle
She gradually notices
a half drunk cold-now
cup of tea
a half eaten pastry
some halved eyes
eyeing her
behind half a skull  
in curiosity

but
her half look
is being called urgently
down again
by the reverie

She as if from another planet
sees back her hands  

Hands write on just
ceaselessly
without needing her
without her knowing

Wow! she says
and  sinks back to her dream
to become a truth of the words

it's my last day
it's your last day
it's his last day
it's her last day
it's our last day
a day a hundred day
99 th of which has already been

it's my last day
it's your last day
it's his last day
it's her last day
it's our last day
a day a hundred day
one left already pending

it's my last day
it's your last day
it's his last day
it's her last day
it's our last day
and still a day
but now even
less than a day
and still a day

it's my last day
it's your last day
it's his last day
it's her last day
it's our last day
*a day which has never been
so much of a day!

Sitting under a weird tree
with my pretty dress on
eyes shut
Senses open
I wait for you

Oh dear tree
-as weird as we together can be-
When you come,
if you come
Bring me a single flower
A flower whose nature we both know so well
A pure and the untouched one- you know?
And make sure it will be
as pure as all the destroyed purities of this universe
as untouched as all the pains touched
and only then
I will see you
with my eyes shut
sitting on top of the sole sunny ray patched hill
painting patiently
as future and past gets so near Now
glow of your face
is my palette of pastel colors
diluted by crystal waters
oh and only then
galaxies, stars and suns
radiated by your glittery eyes
which I have known so well
since the beginning of times
will form a new land
for the creatures here
and for us
at this new place
across the bridge
we just managed to cross
before its collapse
you know?
And
When you come
if you come
but,
oh,
so,
No
I won’t move until that time.

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

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

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

in the midst of heaviest storms
there is a place
guided by the sound of the crow

keep your trust
a clearing appeared to me today this way

I feel you in my heart and I am not afraid
you maybe not there to touch
but shelters made of safe places
grow forests of love
and because of it
storms stop

He was a thief
and he did it ‘all the time’
that stealing
he used to call
enlightening
for the others in loss
so they spiritually grow

he was not only a thief
but also a liar
–towards himself-
what’s worse?

always another
chic - trendy -
authentic - to go -
oriental -  family
fast – arty -
road - five-star
four-calendar  
cheap an deli
and so many
with branded words
dictionaries fall futile to describe
types of restaurants where
he ate from
without a check
a humble gift from my guru
for my accomplishments
he said –
his guru to whom he in percentages fed back
otherwise he would be for good dead
more dead than the dead
because it is beyond the scope
of this story but just know that
he already was dead -
my delicious soul food
he cunningly said.

he was not only a thief and a liar
but also stupid
what’s worse?

blinded by his tall victory
planning the future only
a robot army
that shall **** humanity
for he could be the only one on earth
the one who was made of human wanted that!
unable to comprehend
with his victorious- photoshopped head
always looking forward
as if more ahead
than anyone ahead
far  far beyond clouds of
oil stick slime and dirt
so that the
impure material would
fill his brainless head
for a temporary while
oh my that pretty skull
implanted with sunny hair and glowing starry eye
had all the luxurious capacity of space
a palace for the richest he says
I live in
on the last floor of the highest building
ever made on the planet
always busy baptizing
with cosmetics
branded as pure mountain water and Angelica White herb
he switches off his room size TV and looks down affectionately
(where in reality he overlooks) and self adoringly shakes in triumph
‘I see all humanity
they bug and harvest their own Ignis Fatuus
No I need no TV
this is my true warranty
I am the preacher
I am reborn’.

He was not only a thief and a liar and stupid
but also ignorant
what’s worse?

as he continued to praise his ‘what could have been’s
he forgot the ‘what is’
having numbed the essence he
was unable to feel the growing green grass
under his foot soles

nature as compassionate as always
tries to nurture his lost soul
even for him,
by building a shelter
where he could also grow a brain
in meditation
long term
may/could/would he also have then
a true home
built on the mountain of truth

Oh the nature so pure, beautiful  and naive
continued to plan hand in hand
with a hard-working bumblebee
so he could learn to be free
without  depending on a guru
or on casual vampiric activity

so
what nature does?

she builds a home for him
even adds a pretty angel in
that could be an ever after
sweetheart for him.

he was not only a thief and a liar and stupid and ignorant
but also blind
what’s worse?

so blind that
upon seeing the angel
(his twin of opposite nature)
he did not recognize her
and one night he broke in his own house
plundered everything that has been gifted for him
and dropped the key  as always but
this time inside
where she lived
in the hearts of the hearts
on top of the mountains of truth
on a clearing
beyond the clouds of love
where their house was built

and as usual he escaped
far far away
until he consumed
all that he had
politely ****** and laughed
******* his fantasies in the lands beyond the oily custard
custard distilled by seedless smoke clouds  made of evil he knew so well
until he was left with one
white flower with living roots

Who are you !
What are you !
he whined and cried in terror and fear
hearing his own true voice for the first time
after ages and after ******* generations’ gifts

here is the flower’s reply:

I am you
so
be me
plant me
so
you can see
break the blasphemy
and
if you can
become
you again
and grow
truthfully
you will
reach to
where
she leaves
lifetimes long
lifetimes after
when
she sees
you or of you
she will recognize
you
as she truly will kiss
by her kiss
you shall at once
be blessed
freed
convert
to a prince
of her
dreams
and
always
remember
to keep
her
dream alive
as
she
is
made
of
love
otherwise
you
and all
of you
shall
eternally
die.

‘What? Becoming a flower! That’s the worst’ he replied
and dropped his only living copy of the key.

Then I opened my eyes
how many years have I been a warrior as such
how many generations has passed through my lines
Unknowing
what is not important for my meditation
such questions of how many
just a reciprocal of the mundane worry
it was less than a moment
moment
as long as the age of universe
the warrior
they said
Then I opened my eyes
I opened my eyes and saw a tree I was
facing a warrior just
we melted into each other
becoming the core of material
knowingly
becoming one
lovingly
shall that stay
eternally
as my heart flows
towards I
I
just a tree
now.

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.

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

They gave me a guitar
and asked:
what do you wanna do with it?

I said in ecstasy
I wanna be like that once baby faced old
man a street musician and travel the world
with the perishable fruits in my cap
Oh let these tingly breadcrumbs
pave us a miraculous path
where all folks stand tall and free

but
Art is Art
happens as is
Art
doesn't need
my-your-his-her-our-their
words
Are you awake yet
oh my favorite poet?

I can feel your pulse -if I want to
and you may know if you wonder
but it is no wonder
and You be sure You
I identify not by I
and for good
remain so
in the unchanging
purification of my time
observe
you -s
from everywhere

thou art a neutral witness
of such wireframes
embodied by the
conditionings
of temporal
identities
full of blind
desires so
I fast
on mandarins

it is no punishment
neither a fruitless training
but a method
of eloquent technology
blah blah

yeah
something brainy
in short
about our humanity

1-what it means being human
2-what it means to be
3-what it means not to be eligible
to be controlled by nature
as animals
because we are humans

and Not! what it means to be innocent as animals once we are
controlled by nature -because we are not animals

yes and only when you are free
you can play joyfully
with all pronouns
that instrument
called mind
becomes your
blissful tool
for making
Art
just

I said
and
they
they
they
broke my
guitar

Recycled now
thankfully
to a new
instrument
branded
as
Thou Art Art
available
to all
for free

I am sitting here with you
sipping a cup of coffee alone
how interesting to save energy and space like that
using one body what used to be just mine.

how contemplative peaceful aware and full of wisdom we are  together
as I could be on my own before my fall
a fall -  a period  
equivalent to  intervals of states of innocence
after the fetal  and before the restored one.

communicative is the body in creative balance
walking on a line of  harmony
beyond a metropolitan valley
because it can afford derived fun
so to create surroundings by dance  
so to create matter.

speaking under the dimness of a warm bright yellow kitchen light
its morning with you now alone
I made a thyme bread for us not to eat if you don't want to but to awaken divination
the suggestion of taste by smell
the act of cooking
to trigger a required natural physical reaction
imagine.

I serve it beside the coffee as dry bread
maybe not for us but for the birds outside
as if it matters: the I -  the you or the birds
one sips - the other beaks
and the rays of universe weave

that's all about it I guess

this way we broadcast our mute to us- never heard by us - laughter  through a November mist towards a galaxy  where families live and can receive ours' as a synaesthesized pulse and can learn from - the way to become happy not like us but as a cause of ours'

OOO!
He is worried!
Again!

the Mr. Perfectionist.

It’s almost Carnival but
He hasn't yet got a mask

with specifics
outlining
his ballads
and jests
he
surly lists his bests
in two principle steps
of CAPS :

1)  
* Feeds the Bats and
* Tempts the Charms

2)
* Cheap N Handy
* Quixotic but Scary
* Not too Trendy

and he cries

Yuck!  
EW!
Husky!

What's worse than
a self-adoring pathetic bat
in my whereabouts!

I can't get the stink and shrill so I help him fast

'Yo what's the worry!'

-I say friendly -

'you need not hurry
cause I think you already are ready!'

-I continue enthusiastically-

'Here! Try this one
My top design
Custom fit chemistry
A truly  NO Risk Recipe
and of course
Specially designed for you! '

'for you for youuu
   to echolocate
such is an eye-gaze
for the half-blind
such is sound
a vibration that propagates
in ears and brains of pretty gulls
and of course
only  for youuu'

-  I sing loud a common bat ad just to stimulate
my client and continue- merrily explaining my serviceable recipe

for 2)

Wear your white shirt just
...as always

the one I know
you know?
the webbed one
weaving grace
and don't forget to
iron it well this time.

for 1)

Put on your true face!
I reckon then
and can guarantee
...as always
no one will ever recognize you .

In a flight he disappears glad and I hope he won't show up till next year
What can you do I say to myself and quote a encyclopedic fact about my client.
All things have a place, you don't really need to like them but these ones pollinate flowers and disperse fruit seeds and they are economically important as they consume insect pests reducing need for pesticides.  

I say while I ventilate my head with an OM mantra and an incense stick
Bah what a stink what a stink...