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spark the fire, and with each inhale,
I begin to drift further
in and out
of consciousness

deeper in,
further down
and somewhere between
exists inspiration

coming through
in waves

so I jot down what I can
because I don't remember dreams so well

but other times,

I just enjoy the vibrations
as they pass through every cell of my body
Keith Mitchell Oct 2018
Georgia O’Keeffe
In her own right
Melting away
In a gas guzzler
Meditative escape pod
Disguised as a thermal barrier
Your mind is out there
You pay attention
Everything is Alien
Luna appears
Radiating Bull horns
Like a crescent moon
Balancing on the horizon
Magically moving along
The plane of the ecliptic
Maybe for a millisecond
Crab Nebula
Sneezed the brilliance
That caused the most beautiful
That is you
Only the very lucky
Get to see
Black feather floating
Like a random propitious sign
From the heavens
I ******* love you
For showing me
Every forever is a
Second to enjoy
One Love

Wrote this to inspire the painting in the back ground.
nawke Jul 2018
She hears beyond ten,
the sound of one hand clapping.
Nothing comes to mind

Business of being
is busybodying self,
needs no false witness

Mental o' pedal
tormenter love to meddle
what a nomenclature  

Left behind, acres
of forest writings. None
the wiser on walls

This life's an empty
breath.  A garden ain't here to
impress or placate.

Dumpty the great fall,
silent while branches grew tall.  
Come hear, creator
To scramble mother's nature is human nature.
james m nordlund Jul 2018
As my breath is the one, prana,
And the life's pulse, pala,
Reaching angelic source, Sura,
So is this mind, manas,
A flowering unfoldment,
Unendingly reaching
The Eye that would it see,
Unbeckoning unto Thee.

As well, this Bodhi, a temple,
Of the four and fifth, nur,
So entered by Atma,
A Ray of Thy Sun, thus being
Winged and as such with wind,
Flying only in Dharma's dance,
Is returning to, Brahma, You.
There yet, by Thy Grace, go i.
Written 25 years ago.   My latest: 'Oracle', by Hale Mednik, on Amazon, is epic.  Recent larger productions: 'The Promise' with Christian Bale, and 'The Last Face' with Charlize Theron; epic.   As well as 'Brain On Fire' with Chloe Grace Moretz.   Rediscovery, 'Songbird' by Kenny G.   reality
where does the line between rose and blue lies
opposite directions meet me at the edging spot
is it a coma or a dot?
melody swings like bird sings swimming in sun dust
some silent men and women clear that noise in the time sun rises hold their brushes
clean streets today have no smell of spring
i paint a lot for that, the smell of start
my hands are aching drying out black inks formed to letters
formed into paws
long pauses
and a quick jump of a cat
chasing birds feathers
cry of help
breath in paint smell ,crush, cross, ruin that line
Imagination is fooling you
start the lies.

no cream can help to cure your featherless skin
Sunburns are breaking walls. isn’t it heartbreaking?
i bite my hands to the blood
meeting dead birds
they are the first flowers in spring
victims of unclear hands
turned out to be dusty paws
last breath of aching winter
long long time before rose blooms
it has her spines
sharpened before strike
no one can get inside your mind
line of thought is under words
line of rose is under spine
line of blue is under song
of a bird
carryied away with the gentle touch of a watercolored brush
of a woman
or a man.
Scratching for a meaning.
Deep down, you're tracing holes for the rain.
Forgiveness is not remembering a whole **** thing.
Breathing in, whilst hopelessly trusting the clocks will stop.
The mask slips down,  yet still,
It's knotted around my neck.
The vacancies turned on its side,
Neither open nor closed.
And this, this is the current state.
It is full and waiting to let go.
Rick Warr Mar 2017
what is it about water
so calming and meditative?

spent most of my life looking at it
bringing on muse and contemplation

watching the flow lines
of surfers at wave play

gazing at
the ancient river red gums
bowing to the muddy Murrumbidgee
in reverent silence

and now watching
the flowing gutters
and umbrella parade
over a beer
in a Newtown bar

water makes me wonder
in a peaceful way
of the beauty in the world
like the dancing air-borne plastic bag
in American Beauty
Muse while the rain came down

"In the world of mortals there's no greater perfection than music."
~ Impeccable Space Poetess


Divine music beats
bombard my being
as non-rippened ripples

The surface of my ear drums aches
without perfectly harmonious

Roses blossom in a quiet garden,
some lavish quietudes here, where
I've got enough peace and not
the right space for a siren's songs
enthralling enchantment

Searching at the random pace
for the most peculiar music ~
thunders in my thoughts!

Those undiscovered waves
appear as lustrous song lenghts,
as limbs of a sound corpus slumbering
in the solace of silence and rhythm

Deep bits bite my emptiness
and this wanton yearning  
forces me to reflect upon
this uncultivated
what's there to miss at all means


lovable etudes
classical chello drifts
bansuri flutes

*In the world of mortals perfection does not exist!?*

Auuughhhhhh......... still searching for the perfect music!!!! this stage of my life. Please, please! If you have your most beloved music, post it as a link here. Thank you from the depths of my yearning heart!
The Art of Poetic Creation and Inspiration is necessary for the World to detach from the Trickster Mind lying all the time to us and others, distorting perception of reality and sustaining our false ego, causing innumerable troubles.

Through Art and Poetry we develop the higher Intuitive Mind. The only place I know bearable enough to exist within.
Imagined by
Impeccable Space
Poetic beauty
K Balachandran Nov 2014
"Let me do it for the many worlds I simultaneously exist
as birds and bees, beasts of pray, majestic tree or tiny organism
human beings of diverse persuasions , male , female, inhabiting
in parallel time lines, sinner and saint seeking salvation together"

He delves deep in the heart of blue, fathomless, abyss, a country new
where meanings differ, voices are petering to the valley of silence.

The rivers are silver bands, mountain peaks soft pillows,
the clouds sheets fresh and crisp, spread gently over
the undulating water bed of seas, so inviting, soporific,
fire lovingly ripens the fruits of temptation that hangs from branches,
drink the bubbly white wine of rain pouring in to your cup,
breezes are nice silk, towels to dry one softly
after sweating too much, when ends the frenzied search
through the mazes, for each other, in the play ground of
wolves  and panthers, friendly beyond belief. 

Day and night, one comes to know are made from the same cloth,
wearing a day easy is difficult as evening comes closer,
it gets soiled, however careful one is, needs to stuff it in a container
the dark sea, tame like a bucketful of water, it takes so long to clean.

Morning,  time to wear the new dress,  embark on a new day again
we are men and women here, creatures of circumstances, in disguises
don't ever pretend there is a world real, and you exist here just for fun
like a fish coming up for air, now he surfaces with a sly happy smile.
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