MIND OF THE HEART

Neither thinking
nor feeling
~ Void ~

Soul penetrates innermost
chamber time to time
takes it on ecstatic
journeys to unknown
ocean mines
zips open my armour
blood dripping
octopus grimacing
crushes, smash
Heart  
to smithers

I cry not for God blinks
mermaid and merman
whips tails together
whale songs in distance
deep dive
Jonah still imprisoned
above an albatross
altitude altar soars

No mind for thoughts
tabernacling
only a spacious journey
across seas silver
star gates I myself
unlock
lymph losing colour
of tailscales tailored
pearlescent
Are these fingers or
toes waking
whispering ?
Not know I

I only know I AM
HEART in obedience
to ONE

Armour crashes onto
bottomless floor  
no grounding lore
I fall, fall fathomless
lie quiet beating
breathing
throbbing exhausted
exhumed encrypted
exposed

I AM liquid Love
sensing coelacanth
eggs in golden keg
Shiva seeps through
viking waters cold
I glide into His
embrace slit
sea salt fed

Naked doorway veins
to strange domains
arteries touch Void
gently become
flickering flames
dice game dance
mitochondria translucent
your merman tail
loses its scales
hair stick to oyster rock
justice jutting
Neptune silent soothes
Jonah’s three days
served staring upward
to Crystalline Light
blinding sight

No thinking no feeling
no thing ~  
I AM HEART divine
no nose, no ears,
no skin sublime
Vulnerable
though you, Soul
swam as Sea
Vulture visceral

Two diamond dragon
drops in Divinity’s
explosive glare
We melt into His
caressing stare
could not blink
no eyes
brown or green
neither lids to
comfort kiss

We attained God
Consciousness
colourless

©GhairoDanielsPoetry
&Song2025

The waves are closing in
As I swim towards the finish line
I feel my claustrophobia settling in
My body swaying left and right

My eyes fixated on being first
Tunnel vision now my guide
I ignore everyone around me
If it means reaching solid ground

Medication's slowing down my thoughts
But I'm running out of time
How many times can I fall down
Before I cannot rise?

Before the water gives from under me
And my lungs let out a desperate cry
Screaming, "Save me Jesus!"
"These waves drag me down to die!"

"Why do you test My mighty power
When I have saved you every time?"
"Oh you of little faith
Rise up, leave your fears behind"

"Your sins have been forgiven
For I became a living sacrifice"
"Your soul has been made anew"
Jesus spoke, as He calmed the piercing tides

Now He carries my anxious burdens
When I'm losing all my might
Every day I get to know Him more
In the morning and the night

He guides me towards the narrow path
When I'm wandering from His design
He quiets my inner demons
Before I lose my mind

He reminds me of my identity
When the enemy whispers lies
He reveals His awesome power
When my doubt begins to rise

Only He can offer resolution
For these problems I face in life
He is my sole provider
Of my needs which come with time

So I urge my brothers and sisters
To call upon our mighty God!
For He will calm the stormy waters
And prove that He is Christ

I was thinking about the hornero bird today
how it builds its little house
Really, God gives it everything
just like that, for free
So why doesn’t He do the same for me?
Tell me where to find the clay
install in my mind
the coordinates
to build my home
and be
happy in it

Oh, good Lord.
Were you borne of love or was woven to a word?
I believe that a choir only have sung hymns — in your name, re-enacting kindness through loud utters of loving cruelty.

Because if love was found in the womb of a human heart, I wouldn't see a false God in my mother's womb.

However,
It is not you who sing the utters.
It is not them who are caged in a web made of purposeful mistranslation.
So, I hold no malice for you.

For you have not a mouth, yet — they feed you the receipt of words.

He called me His daughter.
I told Him if that were true,
then I have inherited His worst appetite

His plague-hand,
His taste for undoing,
His flood-mouth.

I no longer kneel on oakwood,
I dictate in my sleep like a tyrant.
I issue stone-chiseled ultimatums
and twist sheets like intestines,
jaw locked around the name
I refuse to pray.

I wake with my teeth clenched,
my hands full of hair
I do not remember pulling,
as if I am cracking
the necks of angels,
tearing halos apart.

When you call your flock home
I will stand on the altar
in my softest dress,
still stiff with holy water,
and the smell of
my childhood prayers.

I will meet Your eyes,
to ask what it feels like
to create something
you taught to hate yourself back

I will not wait for your answer.

Faceless angels fall
You and I see
They scream and call
No god answers


They're bare
They're faceless
Only white hair
With creamy skin


They Glided
Or they ran
Grace is confided
Never in or out


They got thin
And start to slow
Did they sin?
Was death a punishment?


Death was the end
Or was it the start?
No matter what I send
You'll never see angels

Why is it always about Jesus' Suffering and God's Sacrifice?
Where is Mary?
Where is the woman whose reward for goodness and virtue was to have her baby boy tortured and killed as a warning?
Do you think Mary the ******, Mary the Mother, Mary the human ever regretted being good enough to earn attention of her God?
Do you think she ever quietly, privately, resented her faith?
Cursed her fate to be raised on a pedestal, carved into history as beautiful, weeping, covered in gold, cradling the body of her child?
How would she feel today, to step into a church and see above the pulpit, larger than life, the glossy painted likeness of her boy, thin and bleeding, looking to the heavens to a Father who would not spare him?
Was it terrible for Mary? Did she hate her God, in the end? Or did she stand tall to the last breath, a reluctant but obedient witness, faithful despite everything?
Was as she ever torn between her faith and her heart? Her love and her fear? The choice between loss or betrayal?
It would be terrible if she was in torment, but would be terrible if she wasn't.

there is something
ugly,

about being born in
the dark,

no home, no purpose,
just this ever aching feeling
that you are something more
even though the world tells you
that you are ordinary,

you have no answers,
no one to give them to you,
because nothing is really known,
just something we made up to
cope.

we had to give things meanings,
names, purpose,

humans have an incessant need to
find where they belong,

maybe it did that on purpose,
blinded us from the start,
limited our knowledge,
limited our understanding,
threw us in this place where
anything can happen,
just to see what would
transpire.

Something so ugly, so cruel, and yet,
I understand, and I love it.

I am my own to mold.