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.

Sara L Russell, 27th Oct 2015, 00:50am*

I send you out into the world my dear ones.
Here is light and shade; and I see that it is good.
Here are the waters of life poured forth in shimmering splendour
all for your delight and to nurture your thirst;
behold, here is a paradise of sunlight scattering
diamonds of fire on the ocean,
sunlight filtering through the leaves of tall palms and little olive trees
in splinters of dappled emerald light and shade;
here are dazzling white sands and shady mangroves
it is all for you, for I love you, my children;
you belong to me
and to all of the earth.

I send you out, dear ones, amid the steamy jungles,
out to swim free in the dancing liquid light of rivers and streams,
I set you free in a garden of plenty.
Here are fountains and waterfalls overhung with intoxicating
  swags of white jasmine and scarlet hibiscus
entwining with vines heavy with ripened grapes.
Flamingoes and bright parakeets fly out of the
greenery before you, in a flurry of rainbow fire.
Rejoice in this life I give you
and take care of this beautiful domain.
Keep it safe; make it last
and you in turn will last;
safe in an infinity of peace.

I send you out into the world my treasured ones,
free to walk naked, resplendent in the satin of your skin;
needing to conceal nothing from the sun's nurturing rays
or the eyes of beasts, or each other's loving gaze.
Behold, you are pure and untainted with shame;
you have the freedom of earth's bountiful beauty
and you are lovely as the flowers that carpet the forest floor.
Taste freely of the berries and the sweet delight of earth's nectar,
Let the pollen of the lotus bring you dreams of deep serenity.
Only touch not the fruit of the tree by the dark
fountain sealed. The Tree of Knowledge
is mine to know and yours only
to behold in silent wonder.
Mark this well, my children,
for it is my only rule.

Reality is treacherous.
Its conformity is maddening, and the rules insanely sane,
The walls of uniformity are clouded with illusions that seem delusional,
And freedom and constrictions seem one and the same,
I am a dreamer, yet I fancy myself a creator,
I build worlds from the shards of a life that lacks flavor,
I prefer the freedom of love, hope and death,
And I crave the obsession of life and birth,
I am a dreamer, and so a world of facts and truths I shun,
I am a dreamer, a dying race, under the setting sun.
But the optimism of a dreamer is maddening,
Filled with hopes and dreams that are inherently saddening,
I am a wordsmith, a romantic and some might say a visionary,
Creating universes and queens from the extraordinary,
I am a romantic, and I desire the audience of the stars,
I am a romantic, and carved on the walls of my heart are a million scars.
I am a wordsmith, building walls from worlds torn at the seams,
I am a dreamer, fleeing from the banality of life through my dreams.