Deep In the Universe of which we perceive but a fraction:
Exist an All encompassing Mighty Goddess of Compassion,
Whether scrying a Luminous Being immune to any curse,
Or a simpleton Women, with a few worries to nurse,

Whether at home, or some world's distant shore
Whether sentient ones in distant Heaven adored
Whether in silence or at war, Goddess we whisper or roar!

Wisdom sweet like the Nectar of a thousand peaches
Worlds at Peace, Passages to Endless Realms within our reaches
For Love, Peace above us to Crusades beneath
A Goddess Bold, a Heart of Blissful Eternal Heat.

We fight, and strikes red devils, black knights
For the ones innocent with truthful plights,
Our Hearts in our chest, Truly Only One Holy Crest!
Hearts and Minds United with The Goddess, Eternally Blessed.

Whether one lost or confused,
Whether sad, much trust found, lost then misused
One who speaks dearly forever to those abused
Goddess of Compassion, Light with All Hues.

Even when facing immeasurable defeat.
Whether in the Cold Hells frost or Hot Hells heat,
Whether trouble or sinking fast and deep,
Or perilous journey through Mountains; passages steep.

Compassion an elixir and sword of eternal heat.
With Wisdom together, an improbable defeat.

(edited 9th May)
Whether evil in the Battlefield or crawling evil hidden
Reading Ancient Wisdom or Knowledge Forbidden,
Even if a thousand vile voices slander in unison,
The Goddess of Compassion Eternally, is Warm and Singing.

The Mysterious Goddess
There is a Unknown Goddess, shrouded in Mystery,
Her Temples; desecrated, destroyed since history,
Since time immemorial she has existed,
and somehow, whispers of Wisdom persisted.

The points She makes, mostly missed,
Knowledge She offers, widely dismissed,
For Her songs of virtue, and of beauty,
Are viewed as primitive, exposed so crudely.

Many sail to a far away place,
To see only followers, Legacy disgraced,
Whether be it the place; Her Sacred Books speak of:
An Imaginary Heaven or the Hell beneath us.

However She guards Wisdom like forged iron doors,
Her mind sharp like a Thousand Cleaving Sword,
Her Eyes penetrating like a piercing lance,
Yet when She see her followers, at glance...
The Universe shall sing in song and dance,
as if all for one;
and self in trance.

For darker days to come, many a day without Light or Sun,
Time, one evil and ignorant to strike war drum.
Brightly, unison, shall strike the final blow.
With the Sword of Wisdom, the Sword of Swords:
Better days for all,for evil, will lose, the final war.

Nothing wrong with a little fornication
It's much more pleasant than all the allocations
People have daily
But I'm more of a creator
Than a destroyer
So that shouldn't be too shocking
You just got to be smart
Nothing wrong with getting down and low

The words I create, I rarely do comprehend,
The meanings behind them, the messages they do send,
I am not the poet or the god, I am just the messenger,
A marionette in the masterpiece theatre,
Am I the created or am I the creator?

The power of intent, will, thought.
The minutest beginning
of an idea you conceive
embodies a force
that can debilitate
The Power of Creation
oh, so amazing
Everything completed in a snap,
in a blink, in a flicker
I am a Creator
and I am my creation
We are Creators
and we are our creations.
We are in them
and they are in us.
Diminutive but infinitely vast.
Multitude
but One.

Poetry doesn't always have to rhyme.
Sometimes it's just how you see life
Or how life sees you
Or sees itself.
It's a strange concept- life.
I was once asked by a younger friend of mine, although I am merely twenty-three, what was the meaning of life?
I, like many others, didn't know the answer to such a complex question, but still I pondered it.
I recalled a moment in my life where I had been experimenting with marijuana, not as a means of simply getting baked, but as a tool to experience.
In one of my psychedelic wanings between time and space, I found myself asking questions.
I swirled into myself, my true self, and found that, from my perspective, life is meant as an experience.
To live
To love
To feel
To learn
To understand
To teach to others what we have learned.
And in knowing this- life, and the world I see from my infinitely finite point in this mass of perplexities, became all the more beautiful.
I began to see things as others do.
And still, it was beautiful.
Beautiful, because I was allowed by the creator to experience and wonder the poetry that has been laid before us.