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1.1k · Jun 2015
Aether
Paul NP Jun 2015
Mist clouds forming on my skin
I dye my mind in thin formations
soft sentient siblings aviate my fingers
frost lit prisms projecting visions that I relate to
chromatic distillation fancying the minds eye
dark transient beings no longer apply
dispersing and spilling into stretches of time
Aether, Aether, help me climb.
Written while listening to Thom Brennan - Mist
907 · Jun 2015
Crepuscolo
Paul NP Jun 2015
Cold swift current to bring you down
In the dark, I have you now.

Your mind so full of light; abstract
I'm fading it now, to the ritual black.

Your hands take grip to hold your thought
I'm fading it now, your fate is bought.

Your legs wonder in the endless sea
I'm taking them now, spare your pleas.

Your tongue so tied to traditional linguistics
I'm taking it now, to add to my statistics.

Your breath so cold, to blend my tone
the relevance now, compliments my own.

Your heart so pure, vibrantly awaits it's redish allure
But I have it now, in the devilish azure.

With myself present you will awaken with reason
let the past compress to feed hatred's appeasement

Take back from me everything you lost
a life dissolved is the ultimate cost
Written while listening to Marcus Schossow - Crepuscolo
772 · Jun 2015
Escapism
Paul NP Jun 2015
A warmth awakens from a deep blue sea
displacing the water and shaping the breeze
my thoughts transcend above and beyond
my lungs compress to the impact of song

when your focus directs, a silence imbues
my chest fills up with a lack of you
and the feelings created are internally debated
when emotion springs color, a passion is weighted

my stomach indulges in feather proportions
and my actions resolve with weathers contortion
just exhale a sound to calm me down
your presence abiding; is love renown

now all that's left is this scripture of deity
my trust for you takes-way from anxiety

I'll see you soon, when you least expect it
when I confessed to you, I thoroughly meant it


"walk with me forever girl, this gift of heart will never be sold
our love is the rarest of alchemy, and our chemistry is worth more than gold"
655 · Apr 2017
I Am
Paul NP Apr 2017
When I'm in Ignorance I am Agnostic.
When I'm in Knowing I am Gnostic.
When I'm in Clarity I am Zen Buddhist.
When I'm in Spirituality I am God.
When I'm in Reason, I'm a Logician.
When I'm in Wonder, I am a Child.
When I act, I am The Archetypes.
When I am nothing, I am all that is.
624 · Jun 2015
Message From Home
Paul NP Jun 2015
The days of valiant freedom from dusk 'til dawn.

The erupting coffee all over the stove.
The sense of relief after a period of rehabilitation.
The morning cicadas and the persistent crow.

The rare sense of geomagnetic comfort..
And the wooden flowers hanging by the door.

Do you remember?

The old nameless cpu with the rectangular green light.
The graveyard of electronic snakes intertwined.
The couch that had seen just about every show twice.
The flimsy door that took a punch - and
the edge of the bed that weighed as much as I did

The hot pavement in exchange for a lack of iron.
The green leaves on tall trees and spontaneous summer rains.
The hill that took our falls as we learned how to leap.
The balcony's view hugged by a tree.
The nature and nurture that protected thee.

Do you remember?
reminder to myself, unfinished
612 · Jun 2015
Dry Land
Paul NP Jun 2015
You and I, we're both the same
looking through water, a clear perception
Life and love, we know it's name
ocean's waves and where they're kept in


Awakened by depth, a product of two
the past concedes this gift to you
the innocent nature and suppressed abature
clouds that contour an illustrious blue


Speak no sound, just thoughts alone
a mind so ominous matters most
nothing of others may conflict in stone
intelligent airs will wisp new ghosts


Forfeit your presence from everything new
observe the fate of the human hand
this external shade, defines only few
bring judgement to those-

in search for

Dry Land
397 · Jun 2015
That Morning
Paul NP Jun 2015
They swarmed the sky at morning's high
the space between shook visions knees
as it seemed to be
the gaussian face of many leaves

Over the vacancy of perplexing heat
the birds foreshadowed their own defeat
and the birds flew in to the tunnel and gave
everything they cherished, the alternate behave

With this phenomenon made distinct
the summon of a God, would be the expected link

And when God came through he questioned their race
Why would you give in to a faster pace? Your life is not tamed
by the effects of others, it's the will to live that creates new fathers
and the will to live that everyone bothers.

It's the will to live that everyone bothers.

Of the many birds that chose a devilish fate,
incinerating themselves in the volcano's slate
one stood by with the natural confusion
of the choices to make beyond the group-and

That morning everything had changed, the troubles in
the world causing everything pain
had put a hold into instinct and a shift into reign
The droplets of life escaping the vain

God:
Beyond instinct there are benefits to the mind
make it strong, until it's hard to find
Others cannot see it, hear it or sense it
But those with will, will surely inherit

Those with will, will surely inherit.
Written while listening to Leon Bolier - That Morning
363 · Sep 2016
Prose - Vessel of home
Paul NP Sep 2016
His breath is a breeze with lungs that bellow the fire of his
senses or soul.
His veins are like vines that spread out like a growing tree.
His blood a river that nourishes his inner nations.
His eyes are like galaxies with black holes at center that
consume and expand on interest. The soft sand or soil of
his skin bear mineral within (bone).
He is composed of the same amount of water as the planet he indwells.
In him, neurons that harness the power of electricity.
They say nature vs. nurture yet nature nurtures us, and so we strive to nurture nature. Like the symbiotic nature of Mother and child.
And so we are nature in its many ways, the systemic nature of the universe.
Composed into one being.
359 · Jan 2019
Silver Light
Paul NP Jan 2019
Golden Radiance met in Reflection
Penetrating all areas of Infection
The warmth and the love of Affection
Altering Perception, Mirrored Perfection.

Silver Light, Pacifying
Little Child, I see you crying
Silver Eyes Dancing Rain
Droplets of life: escaping the Vain.

Though like a Vine you Tilt.
Though like a Flower you Wilt.
My Will is Endogenous.
The Light of my Soul is growing within.

And as I lift your spirits, With my Consolation
My Comfort grows in you to hold your weight.
My little Blue Spirit, what shall you create?
In the Nous, that is your Space?

My little Blue Sun, what shall you create?

Your Dawn of Dreams awaits.
305 · Nov 2019
Hempathy
Paul NP Nov 2019
Just kidding, not into division. (timesweeper)

My Rhymes smile with prejudicion cause I'm frequently adoring a story that was meant for poor oratory Fridays. Select the mate of your worst violin, strung and rung pains, tides that share aims.

Peel back the written envelopes of a mail suggested and offered to the salient spaces of first men on the bridge. Newcomers all hearkened to up-let the steam in event of a seeker.

Don't do a little piece of writing. Don't do a small breath of typing. I'm squaring up a fools cloak with letters that feel like dying, (sigh)..

I'm lying, they-are-a sleepy Arcturian's artistic filing.
(austerity measures)

Drawn out, yawned in, super perceptible precepts of fallen identities. Christ's idolons on the pond of a simple Wednesday..(bellow)



Congregating Unity with The-Taurus of my beloved memories in witnessed 'n kissed weddings of a scholar sitting in the thymus of a souls uniquely paced sage.(Time)

Forget about the homies making me soggy, flashing glares of shadows stare at the bare minimum semicolon semi-auto corrected suggestions fouling the circumstances by willingly peeking and dismounting a worried dagger.

Green rule for the sage , resurrecting : reassuring cues... of the upper... middle fumes...ballooning the chest of a few this divine breast is be you. reassuring  reasserting  resurging might. Time well spoke.

Crafting The
Passage of Time.


Listen to your heart's virtue, let the rhymer and the seeker enloven eleven. The doorway to the chest of a soul's pure fire. Forever!

Green when you yellow your souls dusty dove. Doer's and clovers laid out like a flood.
Let the meek soldier see a soldier. Let the meek hunter see a daunting thunder. Let the seeker feel a little love bite, no shame it's a dust mite, a precious jeweled thunder when he's up right.

Seeping into the floral dynamics of the Anima, questing questions arise: "Who is governed by a whole hearing, all feeling flower?. I must be off my hinges, dark umbrella masking a holding hymn for the Greek Fin that spindles of discipline I am Yin Sim, Simulating hymns from the closeted pact of an old brittled, speakless... immortal sin! Never again, will I! contend! with a soul who knows how to shame, outside with the pin! (needle) ((Eminem, I am Smarties.)).

No worries, all plenty, I shook my head when I met me. Non Jin dreamer. Non Yin eater. Non dairy diaries no milk only honey, I'm sugary like nestle, I'm nestling with empathy resting on the balcony yolking the Tolkien talks with bruxby. I'm go feed, on the go, give em that nutrient rich sap de-tapped from the soul. My yin isn't for sleeping, smoking nor vamping it's harder for me to unwrap when noisy, so I pay some homage to the talky walky critters by living quiet and balanced, weighed in myself as your pause.

Empathy: Blue and Yellow.
And the spaces in between are Dan Winter's bigger Picture.
progress made
281 · Oct 2018
Becoming One
Paul NP Oct 2018
What freedom it is to be nothing among everything.
The point inside the wheel cycling for words, knowing
myself through mirror's reflection forever like air under wing.

My Soul becomes freer, growing ever fractal
upgrading it's software, such as they in the sea.
They who jump forth by thy will becoming distinct
by that of beneath.

Positivity through connectivity, I am In Charge.
Love in Phase, will resonate a Standing Wave called Ki.
That which Resists only exists when it passes through the
body of me.

In such the Capacity of Responsibility remains for the taking.
My soul yearns to lift the torch to teach those in a lesser light,
forever above is my Zenith in which under such flame I cast
no shadow, or as it be that which rests underneath the souls of my
feet may be freed.

In every step I take toward my goal.
280 · Jan 2019
The Poem is You
Paul NP Jan 2019
A desire is a suffering passion that blooms from the fruits of wisdom. It's a yearning for a new sense, a greater pleasure, a sage's joy. It is growth itself, the season of spring extended and stretched out forever. It is Lucifer's Sorrow transfigured by The Sun. The flame in the Mind is Reason, The Mourning Star. It secretly mourns it's innocence and ignorance, and it's own Tears grow it. When you weep he laughs and when you laugh he weeps, tears of joy. Your depth mocks him and his depth mocks you. His roots grow down like tentacles, dipping into the red mantle, drinking his death. His branches grow skyward and **** the life out of the Sun. He is childhoods end. But through him comes The Foresight of The Forefather who has tracked every poisonous path. And he revivifies his youth through his youths, protecting and showing the way, he is proud of you and you are proud to be his son. His son is the Light of his life, and the light of God. And God is revivified in him. Together they cross paths like Christ. Desire becomes the fortitude that protects peace, so that love can never be lost.
247 · Jan 2019
Silver Tongue Gold and Blue
Paul NP Jan 2019
Silver tongue, Gold and Watch:

That which I speaketh Illuminate

My eyes stretched across a euclidian landscape capture the tings and rings of Spherical Sound Souls.

I see saw gently, rythmic gentry. Sea sowing seeds in the sands of time.

Eclectic Suns and Moons share space. Warming rays upon its face. Golden eye, no doubles, 1 and 7 in my name.

Dark Gold, brilliant silvent solver, dissolving desolate dollars.
Caccooning above its collar, the sounds of a scholar, holler.

In the night, wolf pointing bright , howl at the temple, flaming candle, waving sight.

Better fly high up above the city sky.

I spy with my third eye, Ra El. Spiral inspired by the spire, I inquire the next desire, mastered mystery cold blue phire.

So De-Sire me , I fly up the ranks. Strike One, Rank One, The One is Won. I am Wonder with the Word in My World in Thine; all seeing eye.

Eyes Shine.
I Sign.

The Nameless One
158 · Nov 2019
Across Talk
Paul NP Nov 2019
I'm calm in division.
Gentle in worries.
Kind in uniformity.
Loosening down my cloaks.

I'm wrong in forums.
Right in solar arms.
Hugging my own boredom.
With Truth and life for her armies.

I'm intrigued by depression.
Pulled into other's storms.
Without the emphasis of beloved.
Quelling Calls of Simple Feelings.
Don't be Afraid, I too have Fallen.

I'm sort of oratory.
As I speak, I whimper.
Courage dressed in empty sets of practiced int.
Tinted yet still painted and not panting lengthy essays.
I'm a winded sage.

Arching time, I am a tenement.
A pulley, pulling the soul through time.
To restore the operators of an equidistant root.
Roots, Lines, and Mesmerizing Lives.
Studying and dramatizing secret skies.
May the golden-handed, life-bestowing, well-guiding, exhilarating and affluent Savitri [Asura] be present;
for the deity, if worshipped in the evening, is at hand, driving away Rakshasas and Yatudhanas.
– Translated by HH Wilso
131 · Mar 8
The Sagittarian
Paul NP Mar 8
ice fire and the cryogene.
clear water with most love.
sprouting the finest being.
The god of love.earth.
echo haiku
97 · Apr 6
The Other's Inside
Paul NP Apr 6
People say that I'm enchanted and deserving.
I am a tad insecure.
They come by after years of dissonance
to play prayer on a lost consonance.
This unison of a depraved boy, or a talking poet.
Shining through the undersoul of a lost half.
The self of a loud sun. Alien to money.
Riding a fume that was long begotten, causing storms in
the compass I've got. My heart.

I quit playing with fortune, living the rest of my life is no burden.
Comfortably summed up in the touch of God.
91 · Jan 2019
mother magma
Paul NP Jan 2019
Sky rise eyes rise, Awareness fixated in heaven
look down, foot down, enter into the kingdom
magma magic mother, warming oozing lover

Aethera Cadabara for my dear children
thunderous thoughts of appreciation

Dark stormy clouds storm and disperse
clear radiant crystal sun
my eyes, your eyes, our I's
we, light particles extend, infinitely embracing
the whole of the lower totalities
and in between and in your being

so open your chest,
Divine Spiritus Heart.

Let your Truth shine Green at last.
81 · Jan 3
Riverb
Paul NP Jan 3
Reverber, I have a fervor to take you to a place you may not know.
The unforested flower, unfostered yet gleaming lilly.
Under the unknit stars of our flames.
Un unified, totally speaking through empty
reverberations of breathing. Sharing space, it's there right now, calling your famous face to the crown, the crowd.
61 · Jan 26
Water Spark
Paul NP Jan 26
Electric rips of ether, electric eithers spreading fathers of featureless air.
I'm not a backward brother, not a fallen intelligent mother. Not a dream speaker of an other, or an otter, paddling the current of a smoker. I am not a dissonant freak, with ears that peak through a veiled talker in the center of my breeze.

I am a Human being.

Electric coronal blotted ego, spread across a lamented dimensionfull Ether. Spirit of the earth ling, child ling, child hood - emasculated - with the muscles of neither bronchial clearing nor chest's breathing in fear. Clearing the sound of a speaker, I'm a single monadic breather, breathing for feelers in the healing vibration of a sparked be-ing.

I am being concentrated, content with the illusions I magistrate in empathetic sound bites of foreign homes I sound right in. My old futile following is my governing responsibility, aisle of a lost ark holding up a souled spark for the presence of a real breathing continuity in the summer in the summer, golden guilded memory, I was home.

170 Thornhill
35 · Jun 16
Noir and Soul
Paul NP Jun 16
Her eyes, piercing through the veil.
Felt as if she was given, but she had chosen this way-in.
Introverted visionaries of extroverted politics.
Picking up rods and staffs out of the abyssal airs of
Storm. Thunder in the hands of a victim, clenching
the black sands of a vision-less torment.
On the sands, on the sands of an Empath.

But out from the mud and clay of a silver and blue oasis. Through the steaming council of a warping wall. A Portal opened up her thirst to this thrall. Where the day's moon  pocketed the corner, of her upper most thanks to think things over.
She paced elegantly, closer and closer.

And through the mist, a mysterious bliss kissed the tip of her upper lips. The scent of a cool memory. This water of Mana, that quenched the flowering stanza's of a blue lotus vision.
In depth and revision.
Through the tingling sense of forgiveness.
She was beautified and living.
Paul NP Jul 1
She who is well spoken has a mind of worth.
Takes giving and lesson from the soil out of
Air and Earth.

Two works.

Of Feather, The Father of The Aether, of thin air, this thin veil we spare from our Mothers. The Mother, The Healer, mediating sands. As the waters of our souls get poured into the land.
(Ambient splash sounds)

Breath by breath. Wave by wave.
This is the song of sentience in thy name.

Breath by breath. Wave by wave. This is the song of sentience in thy name.

By The Spirit of heat in sand.
I flash step in the spirit of my hands.
For the rest of my life I stay true
I will, I will do.
Each little grain supporting all our fame within the flames of fortune.
Fortunate to love my cells, and my calls.
Draft
31 · Jun 5
True Blue
Paul NP Jun 5
Can you hear me?
(While the birds were chirping)
Her voice was outside and inside at time same time but not in the same place.

Truly I heard her voice about 12 feet out and to the right of me.

But in my mind, in a place where there was or is nothing. I thought about those birds chirping. I did not see them in my awareness but I felt those sounds tingle in my inner ear. That vibration and that bump. That feeling accompanying a rush in my chest. The voices of a subtle crowd of sounds in vertigo.

And her voice, what was her sound? Can you hear me?
All I heard was her elegent beauty.
In, I responded with: yeahh... once before. But this time around I said nothing. And the breath I"m holding back as I wished to react with, hurts like a broken telephone.
Quelling desires for new ones

— The End —