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Joseph D May 2015
Do you not feel yourself grow
As you move your eyes from the stars in the sky
To the blades of grass below

Holding strong to your ego
An attempt to escape relativity
Grip to the oneness we know

Do you not feel yourself change
In the sensation of new experience
Becoming one with you, strange
Em E Mar 2015
1.
One beat at a time,
Sound
Reaching in, pulling your core out
until you are exposed, open,
expanding.
Your chest flowering into eternity with the vibration
Following a stream of being
Mapped out by chords and rests,
pulses, breaths.
The sound navigates you through the waters
Avoiding obstacles
Demolishing barriers and erecting bridges to shores unknown,
so far from home:
Someone else’s epiphany, piped into your lungs and heart.

2.
You’re being pulled out to the event horizon
Stretching towards a black hole
A place of possibilities, not of endings:
Your own boundaries are blurring, erasing.
You, as you float out in space:
You are only your heartbeat, your blood,
life force being pushed forward in time.

3.
The sound
Dissolves your body, shakes apart molecular bonds,
temporality becoming vibration and simple infinity
You are nothing, obliterated
You are everything, integrated
(Perfectly,
Ultimately)
The sound

4.
You find yourself, alive
There in the deep, bass bones of it
And up in the high treble cry of it
And all the substance/flesh/marrow/meat
in between
Amy H Mar 2015
Silence the wisher;
it would be true magic
if only I could
when World doesn't bring me
what I think it should
and time doesn't heal
the wounds beneath
the smile I wear
or the song I steal
when it just ain't perfect
and there's stuff to fix
and my wicked little Wisher
is in the mix
and my in the moment
can't stay the tide
of the emotion rising
from memories I hide

Silence the Wisher
and set me free
so the way I appear
is the way I BE.
A poem about looking for balance
Lilliana Lucinda Mar 2015
I loved you once,
Although I never had you.
I suppose that's why I wanted you.
As I fly over the Rockies, I can't help but wonder what mountain you and your board caressed.
I saw you there last week in photos.
I know your love for flying with the snow.
As I look down over the land the topography brings me back to our conversation,
You know the one we had in the aisle of best buy in front of the speakers.
I was on my hands and knees and you were looking down at me.
Oh how your gaze would melt my heart.
Those eyes that seethed into my soul with understanding and mutual oldness.
I told you about the topography of the land and its similarity to the structure in our own bodies.
The rivers are our veins, the water our blood.
We find these veins in leaves, in intricate patterns in the mountains, in sediment run off and in lightening.
I tried to make you see what I see,
That we are not separate from nature, but in fact we are nature in a complex and beautiful form.
Intelligent and loving.
I thought I could make you happy,
But you didn't agree.
I'm still so sorry that you never had me.

      L.Cole
handsinspace Mar 2015
into you

atomized
every
signal caressed
infused
permeating
these primal fountains
roiling together
this great smiling heart
sun of our living impulse
seed of our being

into
our
depths

two into one
released

holy frequencies
together
dancing

me
into you

happily
headlong
spiraling
for the one I love... as we are joined again
"..so she just comes up to me and I didn't wanna say nuthin' to her
so I'm just like: 'Hey man, I'm just some dude.'
I wasn't lying, man, I mean, right? We all just dudes, right, man?
I be like 'Check it, dude; hows I sees it is: all us ******' dudes is equal,
and it make no ******' difference whether you got ovaries or testicles or whateverthefuck in between. **** like that is just a bad excuse to hate a ******* for no good reason. There's no need for that.
You best be hatin' a ******* for the right ******' reasons
if you gonna be hatin' on a ******* at all, naw'msayin'?
There are too ******' many good ******* reasons to hate on a fool
to let that silly, lame, petty childish **** cloud our judgements.'

Dude's a dude is a ******* dude no matter ******* what, man.
On a cosmic scale, I will have you know, gender really ain't a thing at all.. yo.
(Not at all to be confused with ***, which, as it says here:
"can surely be cosmological in effect, assuming proper conditions.")
A genuine dude ******* can't be trippin' on petty ***** **** like what the **** is or isn't between your legs! Seriously: grow the **** up.
I mean, if I may, there be bigger issues at hand here-
bigger players in play, as it were, than
what the **** side of what ******' line on the beach you're from,
or what ******' skin you got,
or what genitalia you have,
or what genitalia you like,
or what words you use,
or what the **** versions, translations,
or versions of ******* translations
of whichever-the-**** books
you do or don't happen to respect, man.
Just remember we all just dudes, man, okay?
That's all, really; Just be cool, and we cool.
It's really very simple and could be easy.

Now, I beseech of thee to dig it, dudes:
yea, though it would surely seem
we are physically different dudes,
there's really just this one Dude
with a capitol muh'****** D, right?
That ******' Guy is really every-******'-thing else, man,
and we're all, like, little dude fractals and ****
aspiring to be spiraling out of his head and **** like that, man,
and Mr.Dr. Big Supreme Badass Cpt.******'Everything Dude's all like:
'Go for it, my dudes! ******' right! Rock on! Yeah!! Get some!'
and I'm here to ******' prove it, man,
but, I mean, we're all here already, dudes,
and that's really all the proof of my point I think I need:
it's the Dude that's ******' everywhere, all the ******' time, man,
and, like, we've just gotta recognize that ****, man,
and reflect it. We gotta respect that ****, you know, man?
It's, like, soo super ******' far out, man,
that it's really just super ******' far in, maaan!
It's all the same, dudes.
Dudes. Hear me out, dudes.
It's all just ******' fractals and crystals and vibrations n' ****, dude.
Reflections of Dude everywhere, dude.
I am Dude. We are Dude.
Dudes ******* abound, dude.
Keep bein' dudes, dudes.
Be excellent to each other. Party on, dudes.

Hey, woah man, what's that like?
I heard about that..
Pass that over here, dude, would'ya?
If you're into it, I'm curious...

..aww yeeeah.. thanks, man.
I appreciate it. Respect.

Now..
where was I..
****. I lost the trip, man. Oh well.
There was gonna be a point to that,
but I forget now. ****, man.
I feel like an idiot. I'm sorry, I just wasted all that time!
What were you even asking me?
I get a bit carried away at times.
Huh?
Oh, yeah, its'..uhh. about three-fifteenish!"
-Jesus/Krishna/Horus/Me?/Etc./[You?]
I will have you know, this is easy to say but hard to write, let alone read aloud. Seriously. Try it. Please. Just this once, for me, baby, please?

For this trip, we're gonna need a ******' translator from Californian to Greek to Aramaic to Latin to Saxon to English to Arabic to Spanish to Ancient Egyptian to Hindi to Afrakaans to Portuguese to French to German to Norwegian and then to Russian and tradtional Chinese before coming back to Japanese and then proceeding south to Nepal and staying for a layover in some tiny ******* village that uses bad-******'-*** Nordic lookin' Runes somewhere long enough to become fluent before finding another person who speaks Californian just to make sure if I would agree with myself, if I needed to, man.

-Context is Key!
So much colloquial *******!
May this serve as a glimpse into the fine vernacular often drawn upon by the folks characteristic of my brand of Northern California as interpreted by a, at this point, raving ******* lunatic.
Is it blasphemy if it means well?
I'm almost in disbelief that I wrote this.

I hope at least one of you is laughing as hard as I am now.
If so, I like to think I've done my job, man.
..raw..
(Ideally, the reader is listening to Eugen Cicero's jazz rendition of "Hungarian Rhapsody No.2" by Franz Liszt. Were there only to be a link in the note...)

Everything
going into making this experience even possible
is so ******* incredible
that the very very very very least we could do
is learn how to some ******* respect and gratitude.
If not for the whole Universe,
at least for this opportunity to live
and for One-another
no matter how flawed or unideal the real is
regardless of what your epistemology says we can know real as-
keep it real:
real is what is made of it.
I think that's simultaneously the most frightening and liberating realization that one can have in this life-
say what you will about biology,
I'm quite content that the Body is a Vessel, not a pilot.
Science addresses the realm of the physical.
I have an intuitive suspicion that there's more to the universe and to our 'reality' and to our 'Self' than meets our particular **** Sapiens Sapiens sensory organs.
Of course, that's not to downplay the sacred art of Science,
nor the sacred Science of Art,
but that I simply perceive the Physical as a sort-of crystalline Echo
of that which cannot be perceived, named, or depicted
in any form
other than
Time.
Life.
Experience.
It's the pilot of your body's vessel that I'm trying to address now.

Does that make any sense?

You'd think you'd know if you knew,
but what if you'd just never thought of it like that?

You know-
We all suffering.
We all imperfect.
We works in progress,
but we all worth it.
So, show some ******* respect for this opportunity
and respect it and take heed
when people call it divine or sacred
because it is
even if the people that most often use those words sure are not.

None of that changes what simply is.
We all know that already,
we were born knowing;
t'is remembering that's the problem.

We all came from the same Source.
Everything had to have.
Bring the Source forth through what you do each and every day.
That Source, for lack of a better term, is God.
Or, any of various translations/conversions:
Jehovah, JHWH, Yahweh, Allah, Jah, Zeus, Jupiter.
Even Jesus, or Krishna.. Whatever.
I prefer the concept of the Tao; impersonal.
Pick your brand. You get the idea.

You have the powers of intention and manifestation.
You have the power of attention.
You have the power of choice.
This is why they fear you.
Not people; the Energies:
we're too mercurial for the Gods;
we can't even be trusted with ourselves!


Go all the way or go back-
but there's no going back shy of death,
so I guess we may as well go all the way
while we still have a shot at it.

Thank you for reading/listening.
Blessings upon thy Path.
--
Oh, there is one more thing:
if you can't have a childish and fun-centered sense of humour
about deep, lofty spiritual matters
then *******-
we must attend different schools
'cause I'm independent but draw influence
and you probably should be the same way.

Humor is a fantastic tool.
If your life struggle has not made you callous enough to make dark and twisted jokes about the very nature of the human condition,
I'll have what you're having
and if you're not sharing,
at least hook it up with the hook ups
if they're so worth having.
I mean, that's just etiquette!
;)
..so raw and empowering..

Something between a prayer, rap, meditation, rant and catharsis.


Putting energy out into the universe is a crazy ******* thing.
The thing about energy in the universe is that there's just so ******* much of it.. it's sort-of a big deal.

The thing about the universe is in the energy, man!

Also, Jamo, you were so ******* right.

Parts of this I was practically in tears writing,
at other parts I was even saddened!

I guess that's called "Art?"
Sure, we've got a box for that! Just throw it in!
Just, don't mind the breaking sounds..

This took an hour, and it was done for most of it!
Time to go sip some cool red wine in a warm bath
and see if that doesn't persuade my brain to wind down;
at this point it seems like it'd only be fuel for the fire,
but there's only one way to find out!

ROCK FORTH AND BE KNOWN.

Extra Credit:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=k9SZL0_1n7I

-
Manea Radu Jan 2015
We are creation and creator, we are light and darkness,we are white and black. We are as eternal and ephemeral as the day, fore just as it does, we carry the light and recreate ourselves in darkness.
Mana Jan 2015
Life's your own boomerang
Shoots you forward
Flings you back
Its no wonder with this lurch
That im a crippled insomniac
Its whack
How i take a few steps forward
Only to get smacked
In the head
Maybe i dont have enough street cred
On this path of Life
Its no wonder im a **** head
Cuts the anxiety like a knife
Couldnt wake up from this limbo
Couldnt fall asleep to dream
Only stuck in this middle space
Gotta survive by a solo team
So ill go on shooting forward
remember where i return
Makes the next wound a bit easier
Less strong of a burn
Doesnt mean im going backwards
Just means i must revert
To this origin
This oneness
And my mode of thinking
I must convert.
Chartreuse Light

What brilliance Yellow might you be
Maybe green contours don't you see
Bled into one another
Limestone edge of mastery.....

Echo blend and mortar
As cool as the evening light
Feel the shivering soul
Oneness with brilliance control...

Alive with Amber flow
Steep with passion
Eternal light torn in afterglow...*

Debbie Brooks...2014
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