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the dead bird Mar 2016
the dust
that collects underneath my
bed
flakes of old
skin
are more myself
than I am

the person I was
when I was seven
is not me
nor
the person I was
on my fourteenth birthday
the person I was
yesterday
is not
the person I am
in this moment

the cells
the building blocks
of this body that carries me
are constantly
changing
they die
and entirely new ones
take place

how can I say
I am the same
person
that I was at fourteen
when every particle
of myself
is completely different

what is it that has
kept me the same
person
throughout my regeneration
is it my consciousness
is this my soul

I am a tree
grown from just a seed
every year
my leaves
shrivel up and die
and every year
I grow
brand new ones

it is still the same
tree
because it's trunk
remains the same

I am still the same
me
because my consciousness
remains the same

after a tree
is cut down
it does not disappear
it's trunk
remains

smaller,
yes
but still there
now a stump

if I am still myself
after my body
changes every molecule
of my prior self
this begs the question
will my consciousness
remain
after this body has died

if
I
am not limited
to a specific
chemical makeup-
able to transcend
different bodies-
does that mean
I will transcend
this
life
as well
not that I believe in an afterlife or reincarnation, just a theory I was thinking about
Emma Hill Mar 2016
Put me in a chokehold and press my face into goose feather
Pillows
stained with mascara tears, acid rain rolling down translucent
Cheeks
glowing and painted with rouge the color of
Fire
hot in my heart and pumping to the furthest reaches of my
Limbs
bound and held captive by smooth black ropes leaving me
Helpless
to go against your will, I am at the mercy of games we
Play
rough and don't treat me like I'm fragile I'm not meant to
Break
down barriers and ascend stairs toward the gates of
Heaven
Is found in leather and lace, cuffs, safe words and
Submission
resonates with angel wings beating as drums
Unedited /
Akemi Mar 2016
the fog rolls in
a putrid headless thing
trailing its jaw on string

where is the edge of the forest?
mother’s grave
[i am i am i am]

severed at the neck
dragging the head of a dead deer
screaming

[summer flesh ripe rotting pores in the sun pour water quench the throat fill the rot run the flesh higher stretched pale hollow translucent breath on water lake swings rope frayed death soak the dirt autumn hair twisted wind swept leaves cracked skin cold lips bitter blood burn the sheets burn the sheets burn the sheets burn the sheets]

1:20pm, March 15th 2016

There's a lot of fog.
I am at peace
Grasping gatherin"
Marble extracted pieces

Dust all over deep  ye
shallow crevices  cry
A white dove's  fly
free of sorrow

I'd love to seal a millionth
tears on your lips kiss my farewell

I am the deep Space
I am the Brahman
I am the fine firmament
You are all best
Such is the truth

I am blood flesh body consciousness
Such is the Truth

I am the firmament
Go down on fantasy
Burn your fleshy
Languish fingers
And see where they land

Into the neverland anythin" is
Laying the sea **** as it were
A forest's tapestry ready
Finally
To recall the roll over
The magic Moss
and the razor sharp
entwined stares are infatuated
entirely, submerged in carnal
Pleasures and driftin" as
Smooth as our palms
explore the desired
Softness
Surfaces
Flowerin" as
Transcient
Shapes of heavenly
waves
wavin"
Shape shifti'n
Shinin' within our legendary
Black holes of perception

Rays fall exposed to the
Light
Acoustic fractures resemble
Ray's glimmerin' under
Undulated  brilliancies

Hey you, painter, a wordsmith of a happy fiddle tunes
All over the the land, ripe harry hills, bush berries and burgundy
Grow infinitesimal promises

Step aside for a while, apparitions of your wildest abstractions
Mean nothin" Come and take my breath away by the hand
And swim me to Swimmers' simmerin'

Endless Time is a ****** illusion
A Reckless hope drivin"
Without a licence

Ricochet
Toughts
Trickle
Riot rascals
And ******* concortions
Emanate radiant embarassed
Spirallin" shy blushes
To hide and die of this word: Anguish

I'd swallow the swell day
I'd let you know your golden and crimson
Violet
Deep Thoughts of Goodness

Precious precious Indigo
Ageless darlin'

Step a bit further
And see it (for) yourself
Eruptions
Coolin" within
The open space spiced
Dee light danger liasons

Ferocious I'm borne
Ferocious I give off
The light

I dye
I diamond you
I die dao the way up to you into the uncountable fervored Future

I burn I burn

I am the Sun
And the stars and the galaxies
I am The earth
I am the forest the mountains
I am the lake
Call me a fake
And mockin" will explode
Around your sweet grinin" face

Do not agree that we only read
Some make bread with sour cream
Some make cookies with a bit of green
Some throw flat stones upon the mild surfaces seen

Mirrorin" their minor inspirations tryin" to put others down
Hey, here is your crown! Bittersweet! Clown!

Clovers
Piment
Flowers
Horns
Thorns
Ageless
Aureolas
Borne

Scented oils linger in a sanguine air
Upon your tangible surrender
I fall and kiss your kiss

Rivers run wild flowering seeds
Rivers carry them to Toward n" a while deeds
Within cosmic symphonies by Oceanic all blueness

Blatant and Blissful
Ponds dormir

This all comes and goes
like ripples    
Upon the jade pond
This comes and voes like a vessel
Transports all beings

All beings engage in their essence
Liberated


While the noble sage
Disillussions own Self:

Subtle and ethereal body

This I am
This I am not










The wise
The names
The forms
The invisible
The intangible
They do Keep on goin'
Manure for the soul body mind.
Manure for the truthful seekers.
Major influence by Deepak Chopra.
Minor influence by the truth which lies in each and every one of us.
Hope you enjoyed the conducted narrative. Take for granted only what you percieve to be (your) Truth. This is poetry! This does and doesn"t speak of love. Tho" it aims to divine blissful revelations.
Life is a sacred journey.
No two are the same.

Respect for divergence
is paramount
to a holistic experience.

Life
is not about
status-quo
or
expectations,
t'is simply what's made thereof

Lyphe
is a sacred opportunity
not to be taken lightly

Our Bodies
are our umbilical vessels
which tether us
as mortals
to "Reality,"
which, in itself,
seems to me to be
a reduction of potentials
from chance
to actuality

such ephemeral eternety;
infinite limitations;
actualized potentials;
possible paths-
these are but some of
the koan-like attributes
which lead me to use
the rather ambiguous
and ambitious
term "sacred."

Truly,
it becomes
whatthefucksoever
One may well will
to create thereof.

Action is Manifestation,
yet Thought begets Action.

Therein lies the sacred gift of Life.
'T'is all too oft taken for granted.

Every living being
(i am convinced)
has an equally vivid depth of experience
and I find it more than somewhat offensive
that humans (with a lowercase H)
feel they are the penultimate organism.

All is One
in that existence, itself,
tethers us all
to everything
and probably even beyond,
and so
to be so
hubristic and arrogant
as to assume a hierarchy
so convieñantly crested by mere
**** Sapiens Sapiens
seems to me to be
an anthrocentric and narcissistic projection
of that meddlesome ages-old archetype
of the "Ego,"
that is to say "God,"
whatthefuckever that means!

Find it in thyself
to be humble enough
to accept that each and every iota of "Creation"
is, by virtue of association, equally sacred; divine.

Heirarchy, thus, seems to be a manifestation of some desire for order; control; a yearning to alleviate some hypothetical insecurity as a result of being essentially "absolute, infinite" (vis-a-vis the domain of Consciousness) yet contained within a vessel that is mortal, and, thus, ephimeral.

The Ego doth so loathe it's own limitations:
too bad it's far too arrogant to realize that most of the limitations it experiences are illusions, allusions;
charades of an insatiable Consciousness
Hell-bent on experiencing something
it won't redily allow itself to experience!

What a Holy fuckton of
incredulous, ineffable, impalpable, inspirational **** that would be, eh?! (insert interrobang)

I am me (I think...)
as thou art thee;
so why can't that just be good enough?

Could it be?
What obstruction precludes such harmonious divergence?
I reckon 't'is but us;
and very little else, indeed!
You know it's genuine inspiration if it's highly inconvenient.
I figure that's the ****** up sense of humor God has.

Thank you for reading.
Blessings upon thy Path!


-Disclaimer-
I am not religious.
God is a word.
Words are not the things they symbolize.
'The map is not the territory.'
My brain ticks with a different kind of vigor
My brain licks at time, tasting new flavor
My brain thirsts for what isn't mine, nor my neighbours
My brain bursts at the dreams by a prickly Jailor.

Hail her, she mounts the mountains in attempts to see thee.
Completely unphased by the fountains that writhe beneath me.
I turn my back in revenge, revenge that bleeds me,
Dry of my vigor, dry of my fire for I am clay. See?

Mould me she said, with eyes deeper than gold strewn caverns in the beyond.
They perplex me, so, oh, so greatly they vex me, they stress me of concern.
I burn, nay, I am clay, so I yearn for this. Fair lady may I ask for one last kiss?
In my stead she kissed a statue instead, and left a mark, a deep copper red.

Goodbye she said, and she left the statue be, till the earth caved in, and so did the sea.
I cannot tell you how, or even of when. Or of when, or even of how can I not tell you?
Wow, I can tell you I saw a sky blue.
Or black, after Jailor's attack. Halt!

Stop dreaming! Oh please, do stop it henceforth!
I am mightily weary, must make trip to the north.
Lonely I have been, for you have not been.
So wake up and walk with that lop-sided grin.
Oh, what a tiresome companion you are,
Since I have made haste to journey thus far,
With you left behind after I had begun,
So pick up those feet, and away wierdy one.

Off we went, with my dreams in tow.
Whether I will have chance to taste them, I do not know...
But I know one thing, a something so grand.
When I next feel weary and dreary of hand,
I shall await to journey, that dreamer's land.
I wrote this on February 23rd, of 2011.

Five years, eh?

Yeah... five years.
Somehow, I'm learning to be a poet all over again.
Jeez.

LOL
the dead bird Feb 2016
life is strange.
I wonder frequently
why I am conscious
did the me that I am
spring to be out of
nothingness?

"energy cannot be created;
nor destroyed"

what was I, then,
before I became me?
sometimes, I daydream
and imagine
that before being born into this hell
I was just beams of enegy
shooting out
from a supernova.

flying
past
star systems
and
comets
and nothingness
being almost nothing
no
consciousness
not yet

that is just
a daydream.
I am not religious.
but
the concept of heaven
seems pretty ******
to me.
bliss, ****
I don't want
eternal
anything.

I would get used to it.
living in bliss
would become normal
even if
it is a stark contrast
from the way
I am living right now.

no,
personally,
my idea is that
when I die
my consciousness evaporates
my soul becomes
what I was
before me
and I no longer
have thoughts,
or emotions.
that used to scare me.
it's not frightening,
because in nothingness,
you have no concept
of frightening.

you also have no concept of happiness
but none
of sadness either.
no embarassing memories
or boredom
or headaches
or being sick
I won't even
be able to miss my dogs
for I will have no concept of them.

I am not scared
of death
nor
nothingness
I welcome them
but will wait
until I get an invite.

one of the biggest questions
that used to plague me
was
why does anything exist at all?
I don't think there's an answer
as to why.
I think it just does.
and existence
means
experiencing
all of it
the happiness,
the *******
the anger
and depression

duality
is in
everything

I am not horrible
well, in some ways
I am
but in an equal amount
I am also
wonderful
and the same goes for you,
too,
though I see
each side
of the duality of your being
as something beautiful.
trying to write about something other than depression or lust. I don't like it. I feel it lacks passion. But they are thoughts and here they are
George Krokos Feb 2016
The whole of the visible universe appears to be just like the tip of an iceberg floating in the ocean of Infinite Consciousness; the body of God, expressing itself as space, time and matter, which converge and are fully integrated in the universal mind of the person who has achieved Cosmic Consciousness. That person stands at the very forefront and pinnacle of human evolution and existence, as it were; master of them self and their environment without any ignorance or doubt. Within that person human ignorance and limitations have been purged and transcended in the fires of the Divine Bliss, Knowledge, Love and Power of God Who alone exists and Who thereby also realises Himself to be, through that very rare individual, in essence and with absolute certainty, the One Infinite, Almighty, Eternal, and Omnipresent Being.
That Cosmic Conscious person is no longer aware of being just an individual soul with a physical body but knows and experiences life on  multidimensional levels including subtle, mental, supra mental and spiritual states of consciousness and can move between physical and non-physical dimensions. Having attained a fully developed sense of intuition that person sees into the hearts and minds of all and can influence others and events for necessary outcomes in line with a higher purpose or Divine Plan that they have become an instrument of and in accordance with the karma of the persons they are dealing with. They can know and have a clear insight into the beginning and end of any situation they themselves are confronted with, or for that matter other people find themselves in, and can offer timely advice for the benefit of one and all. They are continuously established in the perception of Truth or Reality as that is the underlying eternal unchanging Cause and Essence of all existence. Their very physical presence exudes an aura of love, peace, wisdom, bliss and power that becomes tangible to those who are in tune with them or have somehow been guided into their sphere of influence and acknowledge their unique attainment.
Although they have achieved all the above and have become a truly remarkable person they are however neither boastful, proud or prejudiced nor do they harbour any ill will towards anyone and may even keep and maintain a low profile in the world. They live and teach by example and where possible through compassion, provide support and help to others that may be or are experiencing the vicissitudes of daily existence and caught up in the web of illusion or Maya which they themselves have overcome. They have become the very epitome or ideal of the human being everyone aspires to be in one way or another and unwittingly and unequivocally act as a mirror for those who have accepted and acknowledge them for what they have become and represent, seeking their guidance and benevolence in daily life. They are the very embodiment of the Divine Supreme Being and use the Wisdom, Power, Bliss and Authority vouchsafed to them for the good of all mankind including, needless to say in various ways with considerable empathy even those who oppose them, because they see and experience themselves in all others; and of course depending on the nature of the situation; where it stands in relation to the current scheme that is unfolding and is also in keeping with the overall Divine Plan. They can also bestow a spiritual awakening and even that of enlightenment to one and all who come before them either by a thought, word, touch, deed or just by being in their physical presence, which is a rare privilege, but this depends in part on the readiness of the aspirant and usually comes at a cost. This procedure is known as the transmission of energy or initiation of the master otherwise called “Shaktipat” and can also be given through an agent of the master – an appointed dedicated disciple or follower.
Some examples of people known or attributed to have achieved true Cosmic Consciousness throughout history are the founders of all the major world religions including a person by the name of Meher Baba in the 20th Century, to whom this thesis is dedicated, and also the numerous Perfect Masters (those who have reached the highest stage of spiritual attainment on the 7th plane of consciousness) who may have themselves, over the course of millennia, also founded or established their own respective religious based institutions, sects and spiritual organisations. (See note below)

NOTE: It should be noted here however that not all religious based institutions, sects and spiritual organisations have been founded or  established by someone who has achieved true Cosmic Consciousness no matter how appealing or widespread they have become even though they may claim to adhere to and follow the tenets and principles of a major world religion. Nevertheless, if the tenets and principles of a particular religion are followed sincerely with devotion the Grace of the Founder of that religion is available and flows through to the aspirant irrespective of time and place. It should also be noted that over the course of millennia some of the written accounts and records of those major world religions have probably been changed or altered in various ways by their respective clergy either due to translation and modernisation of the original works or for the sheer sake of maintaining authority and power over that religion’s followers. Hence, we have today so many diverse views based on dogma and doctrine regarding what has been handed down, particularly in regard to those professing to be knowledgeable about that religion, without themselves having experienced or achieved that state of consciousness (Cosmic Consciousness of the main  Founder) but are just quoting the words of the Founder and others in that particular religious tradition.
From the above it can be stated that there have been throughout history complete and major as well as also partial and minor examples of people attaining Cosmic Consciousness. It also seems evident due to a Cosmic Universal Trend regarding certain factors influencing human evolution and concerning the progress or advancement in knowledge and technology through the current understanding of the relationship between science and religion that there is a general increase of people who are finding a greater interest in the pursuit and study of the subject in one way or another.
Cosmic Consciousness is also known variously as God Realisation, Self Realisation, Enlightenment, Nirvana, Sahaj Samadhi, Liberation, Christ Consciousness and by other terms which indicate and point to an irrevocable union of a human being with a Divine Supreme Being or state of consciousness that is indescribable, except perhaps by those who have achieved and experience it in every moment of their daily fulfilled lives, immaculate and the All-in-All of Everything and Nothing; the repository and Source of all existence and the Eternal, Infinite Unfathomable Absolute.
_______________
Written in 2015. I thought this would be interesting to share here on HP.
bex Feb 2016
I can't tell where the sound of my lungs end and my heartbeat starts.

They blur together similarly to how his body and mine are entangled under the layers of blankets. From another perspective, no one knows who is who and what is what.

My lungs are so disappointed in me. I breathe in nicotine more often than I should.

I've poisoned my veins and liver with cheap *****.

My eyes have grown sullen and heavy. Dark bags have found refuge under my tearducts.
This is just another stream of consciousness poem. They are the only ones in decent at I guess.
Emma Hill Feb 2016
Tripping over his feet like so many shoelaces he danced clumsily
Calloused hands holding loosely onto the featherweight of my neglected body
Breath
alcohol tainted and stained with years of nicotine inhalation
raises goose flesh on the whole of my being
My vision is doubling
the dogeared books decorating the walls of his room
pristine white candles glowing hot and soft on the altar
wine glasses silently radiating with a deep maroon
He spins me slowly round
I imagine I look like the ceramic dancer
inside a music box
Inside a fantasy world all my own
My head is getting dizzy from the alcohol from the smokes from the movement
and I stumble
Everything round me slows to an unsure crawl as the world shifts horizontally
Hands grasp the air as my feet pinwheel
Flowing fabric floats away from my body
an angel falling
Mouth opens and a soft gasp is allowed
This happens within the seemingly unending seconds
between leaving the relative and drunken safety of his arms and
Cracking my skull upon the altar adorned in so much white flame
Everything stills and again
There is silence
I do not
hear his screams as my heartbeat matches that of a hymnal I used to sing in church and
I overflow with the memory
As my blood pools beautifully
Complimenting the darkness of the wine stained crystal
I imagine
The altar had been built for me
The corners of books folded to please my eye
The drinks the music the melancholy all exist for
My epilogue
My epitaph
My eternity
All of my poetry is about death
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