#alin2015
Whose
heart is
that
beating
love Awe
love Awe
yours or mine?
leaving me
rhymingly
breathless
on such
inappropriate
time!
Dec 27, 2015
Dec 27, 2015 at 8:22 AM UTC
Love
wherever I go
the world turns upside down as if!
so I better get rooted here now
beside these holy waters
where it is calm
and serene
I hope to see you
maybe once
but at a most ripples
right as you are
this time
Dec 27, 2015
Dec 27, 2015 at 8:08 AM UTC
He
whom I once met
along three cities
sends me
fleeting messages now
about suns and clouds
from a magic land
while
I am awash
in the passion
of a gargantuan orange ball
almost bouncing
the pungent shade
of my Nordic dream
Dec 27, 2015
Dec 27, 2015 at 7:42 AM UTC
our immovable dance
threads the great canvas
of no thing
made of and by
our knowing
the carrier of sound
stretches
by love
and plays
lights and shades
along the
ever changing curls
of a velvet universe
---
if there is two
it is not even at two separate
ends
but a base of being
for and of
each other
we cannot say that
for each one of the two
there is a sense of two
when one is not existential
without the other
then the other is not the other
but the way for the one to be
selflessly
then one sees one
then one knows one
Love
one love to one love
like a sheet of purple gaze
flows along
and permeates
one another
it is the dance of grace
in between the two
lies the universe
for they balance
as ever distincts
the sparks of
the tale of things
ah pure love within itself knowing the other
ah pure love source of all divine dance
spans
the carrier of creator’s subtlety
the sign of all creation
living on its own
– apart from its creator
we hear inside
---
silence of
the vacuum
omnipresent
as one sound
-but not a thing-
permanently
enlightening
nameless
it remains
*
in a wisdom
where
time cannot
be traveled
as long as
time is defined
to create
time
*
Dec 25, 2015
Dec 25, 2015 at 2:45 PM UTC
They gave me a guitar
and asked:
what do you wanna do with it?
I said in ecstasy
I wanna be like that once baby faced old
man a street musician and travel the world
with the perishable fruits in my cap
Oh let these tingly breadcrumbs
pave us a miraculous path
where all folks stand tall and free
but
Art is Art
happens as is
Art
doesn't need
my-your-his-her-our-their
words
Are you awake yet
oh my favorite poet?
I can feel your pulse -if I want to
and you may know if you wonder
but it is no wonder
and You be sure You
I identify not by I
and for good
remain so
in the unchanging
purification of my time
observe
you -s
from everywhere
thou art a neutral witness
of such wireframes
embodied by the
conditionings
of temporal
identities
full of blind
desires so
I fast
on mandarins
it is no punishment
neither a fruitless training
but a method
of eloquent technology
blah blah
yeah
something brainy
in short
about our humanity
1-what it means being human
2-what it means to be
3-what it means not to be eligible
to be controlled by nature
as animals
because we are humans
and Not! what it means to be innocent as animals once we are
controlled by nature -because we are not animals
yes and only when you are free
you can play joyfully
with all pronouns
that instrument
called mind
becomes your
blissful tool
for making
Art
just
I said
and
they
they
they
broke my
guitar
Recycled now
thankfully
to a new
instrument
branded
as
Thou Art Art
available
to all
for free
Dec 20, 2015
Dec 20, 2015 at 4:12 PM UTC
before they made it public
they created the technology
to create living puppets
producing a tapestry of thoughts
manifesting
through the filter
of authentic bodies
and minds
their enchanting color of
implemented poison
they had two versions of the site
one the true one and one the public one
the true one was
showing the nature of a mind
in a spherical wireframe
3-d
projected space
that could make the motives
of a mind truly observable
using this hi-tech breakthrough
(hi-tech for their time only
i.e their hi-techness is still
bound to time)
to/by/for those
word loving
businesspeople
and hired scientists
and hired technologists
and hired creatives
and hired psychics
and hired you name a profession I will say yes es
of their time
working for them
for an almost literally ground breaking technology
a time bound technology that showed them an observable truth of the visualized data
a design driven and poached from the participants’ ingenious minds
the public version on the other hand
looked naively innocent
with an amateurish design
using a ready to go script
presenting an acceptable ‘good site’
based on personal motives
of hard working profiles
of young idealist sisters and bros
you know
like teddies pathetically hugging each other all the time
in reality though
snail shells were being used to implement
new poisons for the game
on unshelled ones
poisson as is French
would be prettier term
to describe
an honest organic fish farm
but alas
yet in reality that hugging was distant jutting
to purposefully run a game that entertained
pockets of those who had it boringly full only
to spend it for their own fun
but which they vowed as
for the salvation of their Utopian land made of the
illusion of their materialistic psyche same as their popcorns
which continually justified as they repeatedly asserted
these well learned set of words
on communal and cyclic ceremonies
oh my!
stealing intellects as such!
for the game!
game also runs in a closed circuit just
so no one can see it
they have all passed the Turing test
for the game
cool right
and it works
so who on earth could judge its’ ethics
once a reflection of their own minds
even unknowingly the game admins
once falling in love
with unshelled ones
may turn to the unshelled ones
like the prince falling for a Lorelei
they were warned continually
and then still some
willingly stayed so
in love
and disappeared in the game
loosing their body
well whatever
there is a place though
don’t believe me because I say there is
go find it yourself
from that place
the headquarters of this game
is nudely visible
with all of its partaking pawns
because it remains too low a place in the universe
yes there is a mountain higher
where lives
the inhabitants of the residence of the destroyer
who are a little bit bored by now and since some time already
and so the destroyer -they think- may as well decide to
wipe it off - hiring a well fit dragon that can gobble it all in one go
so that dragon excretion may benefit a famine of sorts in the universe
eating that kinda stuff
barf yeack ARG hhhh
(or Namaste!)
:)
Dec 10, 2015
Dec 10, 2015 at 4:33 PM UTC
"Don't pop yet!
We all know who you are!"
said the blue balloon to the red balloon
as they elevated by their nobility
to embrace clouds.
Dec 7, 2015
Dec 7, 2015 at 6:31 PM UTC
that blond girl
with long long hair
is a color
of delightful luminosity
glaring
by a precise
poetic sensuality
of the tongue
tapping the palate
hitting the right note
concurrently
manifesting a tone
an equivalence of a smile
in all worlds
She –
made of lustrous transparent rose skin
is a goddess of temptation
the curling ice queen
on a museum floor
manifesting ****** to
not believing eyes
once dressed up
in tightly packed dark clothing
unfitting to the straight torso
jutting out the shine of
her far away alluring looks
the porter of ancient nordic landscapes is her eyes
which you’d choiceless fly through
She – the divine breeze made to softly aerate
angelic locks –
innocence of youthful dreams
joy may you call her laughter -unheard – freezing time
rebuilding traces of an unlived dream
She is here today
to harmonize the thought chords
attuned by the subtle passage
made of blurry sets of colors and lines
flowing at a readable rate
along the dark November backgrounds
of an intoxicated Sunday morning
Red is still red in the neon
as if too early to be awake
clock hitting the afternoon
wall of fame signs rolling lonely
to haunt ghosts of yesterday nights
which have never come alive until they got brighter than the stars
Dark that shall make the silhouettes forget and reanimate
the never starting and neverending play of zombies
looking for a pure soul
always somewhere else
failing to find one
Flashes of illusion swept by the persistent horns
to be replaced in their place
not as divinity
but as an administrative layer of impurity
All replaceable at once
while everyday stays the same
while everyday they think is different
except for the old man
the old man doesn’t think
wearing a cap
sits there outside
at the most invisible corner of an old theater café
He sees everything he has three eyes
He hears everything he has three ears
He reads everything always the same newspaper
turning the pages in the same tempo of this chimerical dream
I am being observed I know
while writing beside him
and he says silently :
I don’t wanna read yours
but I can read you
if i want to
and he attempts to go
many many times
while I write I wish him stay
as if keeping an admirer beside my words
an anonymous faceless friend
and I speed up as I walk fast with my pen I fly
and he gravitates back to his chair again
restlessly
I want to finish this up quickly and walk away at once without even looking at him not even once
that’s the perfect scenario I think mixing up a reality to a dream
considering the urgent importance of this line makes me immerse and see nothing other than the self but alas the traffic lights turn to green
and She – the profile of my beauty queen
holding a beaker to go
raises her head dancingly
arcs the neck
and in slow motion
throws a laughter to the air
whose weight should be a blissful wiege
for my loving looks –
made of a shape of a missing
of what I could have never been
– halving her pink coat in well fitting blue to her jeans
and she steps forward to fade away
leaving me chained to the glorious gravity
of this untouchable dream
on this invisible island of mirrors
which neither she nor anybody else has ever seen
but me
hopelessly sculpting now
a reflection of an illusion
made real
through the weight of these words
me is a sad melody
of an autumn leaf
falling for her dream
Nov 30, 2015
Nov 30, 2015 at 5:56 PM UTC
There is a light
we hold
it shines
-almost literally-
from inside
and
illuminates
like when
the electric bulb
first time realized
the essence
of its very source
and
Now
still in a same
fit for itself box
enlightens
the once a dark corner
by the embracing romance
of its truth
As visible such a bulb is to eyes
(and as such )
sensuous is this light to us
when we fully are
and
inside the heart
and
Now
Whenever
we breathe
in asana
the sun shines
for the one
receiving
this
blissful
rhyme
Nov 22, 2015
Nov 22, 2015 at 5:54 PM UTC
Oh why do you complain so ignorantly
Oh why do you agonize so self adoringly
Oh why do you hide behind your
my -s - cries -ties -chimes
-spies -guise -why-s -hives
theorize and disguise
with big vain eyes and lip bites
why don’t you instead
analyze
recognize
tranquilize
and surrender just
to neutralize
so that
you can
minimize
and fly
to skies
and glorify
wise
fireflies
exquisite
butterflies
and get their blessings
to ionize
don’t you know yet
all elevated beings
use their wings
to alter
dimension just
while I
crystallize
and womanize
for you
so that
as we energize
our vaporized
do carbonize
seeds
that will stabilize
unionize and re-rhapsodize
the universe
with our
glorious lullabies
Nov 16, 2015
Nov 16, 2015 at 5:28 PM UTC
we shall test once
this ‘nothing is coincidental’
bias
to sense all senses
as if not ours
to fill a bucket full
of thoughts
as if not ours
to place the body
temporarily
in a tree
as if not ours
and connect
these lines
to a wireframe
as the collaborative work
of the ingenious director
and the engineer
both of which
staged their dream
as one complete piece
not longer than
all that could be perceived
in one lifetime
“so much work
oh so much work
still to be done …”
s/he said
in the meantime
yet 5 minutes should just be enough
for that ...resolution
without wondering and complaint
you know what to do
you walk the path
like a tailor
sleeping and waking up
working on one garment just
tagged as life
tailor that will sleep and wake up
until the garment is unpatched
so they will disappear all together
a garment that makes one invisible
when cycles are dropped
when autumn leaves shower
to show off
what they can do for me -jubilantly
as I pass
because I pass
I hear the twithoo
of the nobly circling wild bird
resonating from far aways and depths of the
valleys that are known so well to both of us
one of us though forgets sometimes:)
She
the bird of wisdom is there
to remind me of
who I truly am
once again
patiently
by the sharpness of the sound
that contours the visibility of the thick mist
as friendly monsters of childhood dreams
and I look up
Sky is
while you would be reading these lines
No you can’t disprove me
nothing is coincidental
but I still like to play the coward sometimes
and incidentally ;)
hide under the safe blanket of your poetry
making it a patchy garment of you and me
that will be dropped someday
non coincidentally
for one love only
Nov 16, 2015
Nov 16, 2015 at 5:03 PM UTC
I meet you in a globule
beyond worlds - beyond perception - beyond body
and mind
I meet you there
in our melodic silence
inside an uncollapsible sphere
to continually refract our
illuminating plain light
and reflect
along the perpetually
manifesting membrane
of our ever evolving
ever changing
color codes
when we imagine we make love
endless coordinate points join
to sculpt this dream
it is visible along this subtle interface
as the fugitive perpetual color
of true love
I come here and see you just
inside the divinity made by us
you and I on a brow we are
beyond the eyes we shall always meet
as the complementary formula
evenly made anew by you and I
and here we have always been
axiomatically you are I
so let’s forget and return to our lives again
on this plane we shall write the experience
peacefully apart in each other’s presence
to gravitate and untouchably reshape
our garments which shall be dropped someday
not as a fate
in the hub of this supreme orb
made of the sound of our eternal peak
we are as if two separate selves
trails of my illusory dance
shape all your dream girls
until that all fades
like in the true blue of the sky
all in one I am now for you
and you
you do for each of I
as if you are
you ...you ...you
of all and with whom
I am in love
Nov 10, 2015
Nov 10, 2015 at 6:51 AM UTC
There is a number that knows itself
Logic has predicted its numberness at most
but logic does not know to what it matches
Within its coordinateless space
beyond the mind
the number has formed itself
at the expense of fixing
a masterpiece about a lover
made of the shape of one’s desire
becoming that one pure desire
of and to and for All
or simply invisible
known to none
matterless
formless
filling
temporary silhouettes
until
silhouettes collapse
unknowingly
about their
barbapapaic nature
to the unknowing
so
what you call
‘grand’
‘poetry’
the combination of chosen words
made of letters
presenting duality
between me and me
made of the sound of the form of one’s
ever changing body in one’s mind
Vibrates
in such frequency that
when one reads
one connects one to one
*( like in maths –
and a bit more complex than that
considering sensual feedbacks etc :))*
and transforms
almost vectorial to
some resulting frequency
of an irreversible altered state
and a doses of future changes
but such occurrence cannot take place
when once known
OOPS!
such occurrence takes place
if it is irrevocable of the finite shells
of time
a true joker
has a pure skin as such
through a veil of pores
nothingness floats
towards its knowing
keeps oneself as is
unknown to all the separateness there is
Thus the program forgets
(:D = thankfully)
or runs infinitely at a place :
‘this could be heaven and this could be hell’
as in Hotel California
so
you should know for yourself
if you wanna make it love
because
If you not
It’s then someone else
because
It is always someone
as reasoning goes
it is a manifestation of the self
a contextualization of a narrative
as story requires
as story unfolds
I always remind myself to
keep up to one reason just
which eventually are no words
but sound or silence of
a reflection on an expanding
surface of a bubble in pure
unfixable color
Oh
words of preconditioned unoriginals
manifestations of self adorations
what is there to be said or heard or grasped?
when All stories are the same?
Shaped extensions of one source
sticking out repeatedly to tell one thing just
expanding the bubble
within the bubble and the bubble
just
to be heard
once
as big as a
Hum
en route exit as scriptures call it
but am I gonna be able to hear it?
(or you or us … )
Aug 12, 2015
Aug 12, 2015 at 6:12 PM UTC
A little stone
found me on my way
she took me in her hands
using my hands
and she whispered
using the sound of the wind:
My gift to you
she said
is the moment
that makes you be
these endless landscapes
I’ve crossed
until our ways met
to touch this way
We exchange to purify
without being attached
no thoughts – no visions –
no appreciation of time –
no expectations from the past –
no intention of the next and after
shall trespass
This is a message to be delivered to you
that shall come in handy sometime
because it’s no mystery that
there really is no one out there
but a technology of
‘when you are not
the will suffers having not
initiated my mud
to sculpt ‘
then
the following is a swamp
Come lets walk hand in hand
stand on that hill and watch
while the wind blows us through the blue
rounding red yellow curly hue
of high rocks
look inside
and sing now
one as I
*
then you will see
then you will be
you do not need to touch
pick a stone just
call it mystery
call it technology
all the same
when all there is
is is
not the eyes
but my presence
that which illuminates
sees
sees to dance
and correct postures
sees to be
the very object
as clarity
eyes gets better
if it were blurred
posture straightens
if it were crimpled
you become the sweetest
shape of the wind to a bumblebee
an ever expanding
harmonics of a
song unknowingly
for a moment just
for a moment maybe
but such a moment of
a celebration is
comparable to a
lifetime only*
Aug 11, 2015
Aug 11, 2015 at 6:39 PM UTC
I won’t find you through poetry
You are engraved in my heart
I don’t search
Standing here above clouds
my beautiful clothes
in tones of blue
fitting well to the charming veil
colorless transparent
an accentuation just
for the deep darkness of
crystal black
long long hair
I comb every day
beside a mount steam
waiting for your appearance
as love
singing a song of ripening desire
to the creatures and things
accompanying
some lie aside to cheer
some shy away - Hide
behind rocks to listen just
I smile to all the innocence
there is
knowing all is living
made of you and I
As I of you and you of I
then molecules shine in air
things know
they can see and touch that smile
made of my fingertips -
the bearer of all healing
my eyes wear a makeup
made of the finest pigment of wild mountain flowers
tuned to materialize
by the blue glitter of the holy dress of truth
made of my love for you
my perfume is what I am is my skin silkened by
that fragrance of wild roses 7 levels above the sacred sleeper
that makes you forget of all things but the fragrance
then you wake up and say
as if - as if it smells like roses everywhere
You stand there in a shelter of pine at my doorway wooden
smile in such way that you are the carrier of all universal attraction
I give my hand to you
the soldier of truth - WE
we are one standing under that pine
making us both invisible
You smile (in the house of love)
There I met you once
There we keep each other
Only there I will see you
again and again
without stories of the mundane
of cycles
of lives
experienced
I close my eyes
not to see you through
the iota of the sedimented
delusion of records yet to be formed (by you and I)
not to touch you
stop my burning desire
let it burn in the scariest of my own illusive deception
let it burn with the impurity blindly beard
so is I what cannot be wasted
so is I what I reserve for you to deserve of you
because WE
we live in a timeless tale of love
one moment of love
we exchange in silence
where you are the sun I am that one crystal for you to shine through me
and create
***
And so I go now again
return to my life story
cheerlessly
but a must
for our common goal
of excellence
without you in it
my duty is highest warriorship
for all
I am the green eyed invincible warrior
made of a zero or one
I go in wisdom and light
Peace is you in my heart
Aug 1, 2015
Aug 1, 2015 at 8:09 AM UTC
you can’t find
between the lines
it’s one poem only
reshapes consequently
desires knowingly
breathes simultaneously
collapses memory
forgets willingly
to be delivered by love
where every question bears
the shape of its answer
or of you
and I
yes it’s one poem only
Jul 27, 2015
Jul 27, 2015 at 7:30 PM UTC
Sounds ancient but
It hasn't happened yet
It's happening now!
Jul 26, 2015
Jul 26, 2015 at 5:15 PM UTC
Hey Stranger
Where do I know you from?
You just open the door
and come in
Or you have always been there
without my knowing?
Hey Stranger
Where are you from?
Hey Stranger
Where do I know you from?
Sitting by my side
When I think I am just alone
Hey Stranger
Where did you come from?
To share
The campfire
You are just a sparkle
Appearing
that may
bring the Sunlight
just before the moon is disappearing
to make me
Awake
from this
Nicest dream
or am I
Awake
with you sitting here?
hey Stranger
Where are you from?
Where did you come from?
Are you real?
or just a dream?
and Stay with me
before
…..
…..
Singing
Swimming
Dancing
or making
Loooveee
It’s Loooveee
until
you go
Go on just
It’s the highway
we’re crossing
Highway
horizonless
until we make
one
Home
beyond
the sinking
Sun
will rise somewhere
Again
where might be
a dream
or real
Same
as long
as
you’re here
Hey Stranger!
Make me Real
Hey Stranger
You’re me
Sitting just
beside
my campfire
Me is Campfire
You is Me is Stranger
Hey Stranger
Stranger
Stranger
Stranger
Stranger
Jul 14, 2015
Jul 14, 2015 at 9:24 AM UTC
I eat cashews for breakfast
and all kinda luxury nut mix
Kookoolookuu
and all the jealous chicky chickens
at the backyard cluck cluck bra:
“We shall also laugh...
when it’s thanksgiving time”
Poor pulltiepullies
they are so stupid
I wanna Hop Up on them
they do not know how to
Impress!
miserly is their earning
after daily laying &
they gotta yearn for a
thanks giving!
for good grain
yeah
for good grain
like mine
yeah
like mine
KookooLookuu
Oh only if they could fan out tails beautifully like me
Oh only if they could gobble so loud like me
they need no-nothin then
to get
better grain
It’s eventually give and take - Yeah
Give and Take
…
but Now
I have to badly
Eject
...
KookooLookuu!
Jul 12, 2015
Jul 12, 2015 at 10:17 AM UTC
this subtle passage
is the rhythm of
appearances of deserts
crossing horizons
sweeping mysteries
melting duality
to a mirage of
one day I will get it right
type of longing
while silence remains
in one self-similar coral just
Jun 27, 2015
Jun 27, 2015 at 7:16 AM UTC
Beware Hooray
the Cavemen are comin
jumpin up and don knock-kneed
sweepin the hill with their new harvested beard
Howdy chicky chicken leg
What’s goozin under your sweaty shirt
lookin like ma granpa
with ur baby cream breath
or is it maybe somethin else luscious
spring of intermittent discharge
making rainbows duplicate
yep gimme two too
when u come to me
oh when u come to me
cause I am a matured
lovin n **** is my blanched bird nest
neatly crowned above my head
I shall unbind it for
adorable is your lady color short pants
I bet holographic daisies growin
along the tri-d charm
of your ******
if any yeah if any
Beware Oh the cavemen
Run flat out nou
cause I shall feed you
to my auntie’s aging dreams
with the buncha hair on ur face
u look lika somethin
resembling
a man before her famine
Beware Oh the cavemen
Auntie is comin
Jun 23, 2015
Jun 23, 2015 at 7:04 PM UTC
They say something is truly computerized
yes or no? yes or no ?
which one? which one?
BETTER throw a dice if you wanna know
but no
it is a BIG YES of course!
that’s what they should be saying - truly
THEY.
WE -
however -
we don’t have a proof
that it truly is so
and we never may have
and actually we don’t even need to spend our time to find out
if they are right or wrong
It is more important to understand why we discuss this matter here now
and we can explain the reasons in two basic steps:
1- believe not and do not become a blind believer -
to whoever - to whatever- no matter who - no matter what -
there is no one who can tell you the truth
but you -
you may not need to like it all - but
that’s always for a good reason -
if you make it good
2- understand what is of essence now - thus - the thing- maybe a poem- maybe a result of a competition - maybe this - maybe that -
why that specific thing comes to my/your attention now
So
it does not matter
if it is computerized or not -
what matters is
I see it and it communicates with me
and with my senses
and is at my attention
it manifests itself to me here now where I truly am
does not matter how it manifests - but it matters that it manifests
and the answer to why
is by my experience creating an action -
Only what I can neutrally and non-judgmentally witness I can purely experience -
and purity
has surpassed frights
and purity
has no addictions
and purity
does not swing from moon to sun
but remains centralized-
and purity
needs no temporary replacement that serves to escape from one pain- discomfort to another
but purity is ultimate self - is itself by itself
therefore what is presented to me here now is not other than what my consciousness is manifesting as -
it is not a test -because we have passed all the tests -
there is no teacher other than the self-
it is such that we are moving on -
on a path of knowing of our own true nature
And now
that ‘s why!
that’s why!
There is a dove
in love with me
comes to see me daily
and listens to my songs
it ain’t matter if it’s not the same dove
although I know it is
not because it looks alike
but because I know it is
and still it ain’t matter
if it’s not the same dove
because there is a dove
in love with me
comes to see me daily
and listens to my songs
adoringly
Jun 21, 2015
Jun 21, 2015 at 6:48 PM UTC
I wonder how I landed here ?
and that is for me to find out
-alone-
because nobody will tell
and maybe there is nobody to tell
but the ten 1000 branches of a giant tree
changing souls continually
maintaining thousand shells in turns
to lure the dold rums poetically
watching them swing from moon to sun
as if the same mariner sings all the time
to avoid the squall
including the one named the Bull's eye
who then would I be
why then should I be
my mind cannot tell
neither can this body
but a knowing only
which
I surrenders to
now
Jun 15, 2015
Jun 15, 2015 at 6:49 PM UTC
Bloom had a gravid heart last night
She could not relate but meditate with leaves up
Bloom received a thicket from the moon
While she froze in a posture of
‘a gift to be presented to ... but for whom?'
Fitted well in length on both of her parabolic curves
as if a newborn glume
a galaxy made of a wood flower
a heap which once a cycle blossomed
same color as the fragrance of a lover's desire
in a deepest clearing at the heart of hearts
at a holy spot where a ray shone
Just one night falling on one cycle
to awaken a moonflower
She sings the magic wood's tune
to matchmake destined lovers
living in such mirrored cycles
....
The golden bunch which she then gently grasped
until a fist would became its skin and pulsate
in mindful rhythm
reintegrating the nature of nodes within
reanimating the beat from and through the leaves
delivering health to All its unitless dimensions
The nourisher and the rejuvenated
the heart of joy
a flow
to find its way this way
along the equifying particles
on one smiling body
she dreamt of
....
Next morning I got up early
seeing the municipal cars aside
with stacks of healthy roots inside
all to be planted in a day
to grow trees
in front of her little house
and yes she could relate this time
first with bewildered eyes
then with bewildered mind
then with a breathing belly
then with a full heart
she smiled
....
She was a mystery studying facts only
May 31, 2015
May 31, 2015 at 11:52 AM UTC
Hello Little Prince
Your Eyes Shine
Like Emeralds Of Pines
Your Hair Made Of the Sun
You travel from Star to Star
I draw each day since you are gone
in all color and form - sound and line
for our rejuvenating living particle
made of crystal of truth
I sense you water my lost dream
I the lover the queen of All Darkness
I the lover the goddess of All Light
remain unreachable
reside on both -
of your own making they say
- undying and unborn star
Outside of the two or one
you travel to All the glittering
unknown but remembering
of those starting and ending
to recollect living pieces
of that forgotten dream
as if a scent to remember
from lavender fields
brought by a distant whispering
of a northern sky
to fade away
if you choose not to hear
Your experiences- real - reach as vivid pulse
of a song - a mantra of love
My roots sense to mature wisdom in all tones of Reds
Innocent is my heart longing for your glowing face
the greens of my leaves reflect
the color of the light of our secret seeing
I shall play no more games of extremes
for you to visualize of me other than what I am
I surrender to you fully because I know you have seen
many of rose gardens and touched and smelled and cherished
each one - as vital as the cool mountain stream singing for
me the myth of your love spreading
I shall no more play games other than the truth that connected us inseparably
We gave birth to fertility through the bite not more painful than a thorn on my stem
Our love born of the poison of the serpent that connected us
We travel to be healed and to heal the universe
in our shell as we experience to learn and teach
not a mystery but a technology is love where
I shall see you again beyond the body
I the lover of healing fully flowing on one line
Crossed valleys made of fractals of blessings
My colorless strong hair carrier of red blue yellow and green glitter
on streams reaching the oceanic clearing as the victorious salty jump of a whale
As the Heart purifies its Crystal - We Be One -
Our Home - You - I -. The Rose -
Not the Unreachable - The Dark - None of those Extremes -
but a Rose is I Just like One of the Many Other Ones -
but One Of a Kind on A Tiniest but A Home for Us Planet Under Stars
Us -- The Little Prince - The Rose - bring love to universe - when whoever on planets looks up in pure knowing - to Skies shall sense among all other Stars Skies and Hearts - a Universe made of Glowing Vibrating Expanding Delivering Joy is Divine Love
of the Rose and the Little Prince and the Tiniest Planet made of a living Crystal Heart of Dreams
of the Drawer or of the Reader or of the Dreamer or of You or of I
May 25, 2015
May 25, 2015 at 8:25 PM UTC