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Nov 2017 · 214
Prologue
Imaomouto Nov 2017
Being perfectly honest, I have no one to blame but myself.

Right now I sit, fingers bleeding and raw from too much picking, biting, scratching, pinching my face and holding or wrenching my head and hair all because of me.  There is no answer, no burden relief…. just the truth.  And maybe that’s too much for one person to bear.

This has been going on for a long, long time.  Personally, I think it all started with diversity.  We all know energy cannot be created or destroyed; it just changes from one form to the next.  Everything goes back to that and this godforsaken planet.  Why did our god-consciousness devise a physical realm through which to express itself?  Why did our god-spirit, a universal entity ‘spinning in infinity’ choose to become man, and experience a life of restriction and decay?  Out there we were…. pre-conception, unlimited by time, space and biology.  All sensation was total; arguably far more real and tangible than anything we have experienced since.  We were intrinsically one, not a part of the universal whole, for we, together, constituted the whole.  There was no you or me – we just were.  When the first chemical isomerised, or the first whatever polarised, a self destructive chain reaction set up an evolutionary time bomb that would ultimately(?) produce organic form ‘sophisticated’ enough for our god-consciousness to parasitise and torment.  Well brother, sister, hold on tight ‘cause that’s you and me.  We are all experimentations of our divine selves in a game to see how we would cope without our god-knowledge and god-experience and god-perception.

And I wonder why I’m going nuts.


Day Zero. . . . Day Zero. . . . Day Zero. . . . Day Zero.


‘In the Beginning’ there was no time.  Nowadays there’s still no time, although nowadays it’s more no-time-for-anything; whereas way back then there was no time for anything, but time for everything…. if you see what I mean.

On the one level (or dimension if you like) there was the god-consciousness – the zone of ephemera that just was.  A heavenly realm where all spirit dwelt in total communion.  As I sat in her presence she took me within herself and my physicality exploded; every building block of my familiar self was phased, so I could become one with the entity.  This transportation facilitated communication with the Other that I had now morphed with; a communication so basal and profound but so simple and totally gratifying the remnant of me that I could still perceive wept openly and eternally.
At the moment of initiation I became aware of so many secrets that had for so long troubled my man-self, and wanted to comfort the weeping of my dormant spirit but had now way of communicating these inhuman messages.
A few things that underpin the whole event of understanding was the knowledge that all these thoughts were based in eternity.  Like I said, timeless, but that’s just one factor.  It is impossible to answer questions of eternity with a finite brain but (thankfully) not impossible to kick a few of these questions around (which we have been avoiding like dog-****) and come up with some interesting ideas.  It was in this way I was able to communicate these ideas from my god-consciousness to my man self, and thus take a few philoso-theologic steps.  I was willing to learn how to walk again slowly, and to be honest would have been overjoyed if I was ever able to walk without the steadying hand of the god-consciousness.  But little did I know it would send me to the edge of destruction - on the shore of the real fiery pit.
Perhaps this was why, theologically, man could never see god and live.  For to see god is to know god, and the very being of man is not designed to deal with godly things…. If too much comprehension is taken on board, the mind ‘short-circuits’, and fails to deal with the most basic of functions.  We’re not meant to know that much.  It’s as simple as that.
So while my man-self mourned the loss of innocence, the god-consciousness that I was now part of continued our holy communion.  I became an integral part of a vision: ideas, concepts, images flew around and through ‘me’, no language was spoken, no stimulus triggered these responses, but I understood all and roamed the universe in spirit.

We have been so repressed for years – not by a dictator, or a society, but at a basic level, by language and communication.  Our brains are so finite and discrete (or at least that portion that we employ seems to be) that when we try and relate even the simplest notion, we have to select a word, phrase or image that at best approximates what we are thinking.  Even art and literature, when descriptive powers are maximised, are still only pointing to the feelings, the motives that made us create.  In the god-consciousness, all language filters and communication barriers were gone; thought drifted in purity and totality from originator to recipient, for we were all part of the Whole.  This is the (sadly limited) translation.
Imaomouto Nov 2017
Melting orange disc aflame
Half hidden on the hillside rests
In salmon soft pink sky
Nov 2017 · 136
William, 6 weeks
Imaomouto Nov 2017
Slowly blinking dark pools of soul
Just discernible in the nursery gloam
Eventually close to sleep
Nov 2017 · 341
Lie Down, Brother
Imaomouto Nov 2017
…a moments reflection
in sands slowly drawing
self onto the outside of being.

Winds of Wisdom with an
ocean of Love
…flowing.

With time the only tutor
Rest, calm and peace reward tranquility.

Take time, friend,
Rush, haste and worry are old
Enemies that destroy.
This time is our time, now
Forget the fight
And enjoy the freedom rightful,
Plentiful and eternal.
It’s here, it’s ours….
Acceptance in Love.

Out there
Is still conflict politic
Is still hurt romantic
Is still pride in *******…
A joy from power, from rule.

But I lie down.

Out there they can still dictate
For when I see my trouble free dawn
I smile at their struggle
Their stresses to control and repress.

My freedom is sure and eternal
Inside my heart is a joy unbound
That no ruler,
Aggressor,
Or overly proud and self tormented manipulator
Can steal away
For I know my way…
Peace…
Love…
Calm…
Kindness…
Tolerance…

Because they don’t need to be told
And I won’t waste my life telling them.
Pain and hurt are apparent…
If you are its source
Wait
And it will return
To haunt.

So lie down with me
Breathe this fresh earth air
The scent of long awaited rain
The smell of a lover on your skin
See the stars eternal.

And let ‘them’ try and trample your peace
For ‘they’ will try.

But, brother, we have the answer…
Just…
Lie…
Down.
Nov 2017 · 193
Haiku #1
Imaomouto Nov 2017
Greyness, still and wet…
calm yet strange, desirous…
the whirlwind whips, my breath gone I gasp.
Imaomouto Nov 2017
With beauty all encompassing
like stone we sat
unmoving....
unfeeling....
losing our heads in a world of sophistication
unthinking....
unseeing....

Now?.... We dwell in the consciousness of the Gods
we travel....
we touch....
we experience enchanted lands –
for the whole world is no man's property,
but belongs to us each....
freely.

So now let us sit as calm as the stone,
and be one with thought that can no longer be held captive in our mind....
to see with eyes the un-visual;
phenomena beyond the comprehensible;
and feel the flow of nature's energy
revitalise lost dreams.
Nov 2017 · 233
Butterfly
Imaomouto Nov 2017
Solace drifting in crystal blue,
a tumble dance of delicate perfection,
on currents of Love you glide.

I see your wings,
your freedom in frailty,
a beauty unveiled,
sweet divinity.

Guide me to your home, your rest -
a garden filled with flowers, incense
on warm breeze,
tranquillity.

My friend, a single butterfly,
a triumph over days gone past,
a lesson of hope,
metamorphosis of self.

My Lover, a woman
whose own wings only I perceive,
whose own beauty all admire,
whose laughter is my Universe,
whose smile makes me whole,
whose body I caress as she dreams….
My butterfly.
Nov 2017 · 184
Bóló
Imaomouto Nov 2017
Slow-beat throbbing rhythms aflame
Evoke
The deepest awakening of life.
Earth reveals a long distant symbol
A secret of all things
Etched
in charred soil.

Ancient Spirit-Man, and
Unseen Lovers dance, entranced,
Enchanted
in souls of tribal escape (1999).
In Ritual, message received,
In sleep, sky journey travelled.

A low mountain quakes below the Birdmen,
Fire consumes the sacred ember,
Soil cavorts in a relented Lovers soul, and
Young men shiver with terror of Spiritual connection
and Ultimate Truth
Revealed in tormented simplicity.
Nov 2017 · 151
Untitled
Imaomouto Nov 2017
A silence held, a silence that will hold.

The loss of time and tales that never will be told.
Nov 2017 · 188
Lovekill
Imaomouto Nov 2017
Again life draws her darker veil, not death
draws softly on the oar stroke ‘cross the sea,
a journey ‘gainst the tide of Cupid’s wrath,
the lonely isle Her barren sanctuary.
She hangs the Love strung noose, my fair ‘Lisbeth:
another final dance with Love for me?

Again I feel the sweet scent of Her breath,
against my chest I hear Her tears burn down;
a lush green valley’d world becomes our rest,
Her tears are wept by me; she soothes my frown.
Our pain subsides, alone we conquer death,
drawn over into Love, we are our home.

Called beauty (she) enlights the heavens, divine,
I’m consumed and consummated by her glow,
I melt inside Her heat, Her flame refines
from impure into Pure, my souls desire
no longer lusts but lavishes sublime,
our spirits sated two ‘come one combined.

Again we are alone, Her body warm,
She holds me, paralysed I feel her glow,
Her neon spark anticipated, sensed,
our feelings found and fought, for who will know?
Both Love and Languish secretly expressed,
forbidden bliss through decency unborn.

My tearful swell upon a maddening hour
cools painful stings within, without the will
to grieve, for all Her sweet-lip’d words turn sour,
a hollowed heart where Love now lifts its loss.
Her momentary blooming, precious flower,
my spirit drowned in seas I dreamed to cross.

— The End —