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#meditative
limbs red like fire along walkways of yellow sun wood-lined streets that beckon for winter to come a season of summers stiff, death rattle late fall's brisk winds twitch a closing chapter colors that fade to stillness under solemn white sleeping beneath longer & longer, heavy nights after great darkness has stretched out its farthest, snowy grounds melt and latent life's dawn is lit
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Oct 25, 2025
Oct 25, 2025 at 12:38 PM UTC
faith is
This world's now a grassy bay, filled with ochre, pale and dust, grass heads bent, twirl and sway, all at once, with a moment's gust, but just as fast, as the current steers, a new wave drowns the yester's years. the thoughtful posts, or a candid phrase, all lost by the time, till another gaze. a story thrives, at the brink of a day, by dusk, it's driftwood, washed away, a thousand likes, a glance, and then.. the scroll resumes, all starts again. since this hush, this speed is all we know, this ceaseless, mindless forward flow, I watch them all, a rushing and crashing stream, chasing and striving, the momentary gleam. among this stampede, I remain, standing stillness, beside the lane, below a flickering lamp, an opened door, hoping one will wait... perhaps once more. in a world where miles are crossed with ease, yet being known, fleets away with breeze, who has the will, and the time to hold to stop by the road, for a tale being told?
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Feb 16
Feb 16, 2026 at 5:50 PM UTC
A meadow of ephemeral tides -
My facade chases wind Feigning hot I actually run cold The give of the years taking note Of my spill Above the old watch talks now. Being the contempt of points I will have to gather once. Eventually the control we've both lost dwindles further outside amongst the throng. Staying near the window to figure it all out an appealing mechanism has a lost lullaby we miss. I decided to go out for a walk.
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Feb 10
Feb 10, 2026 at 1:34 PM UTC
Borrowed Winds
Cold air / window / warm air / me, I look out, what do I see? The world obscured by falling snow, Sublime in moonlight's diffusive glow, And, reflected faintly: (me) Diaphanous and unknown.
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Nov 30, 2025
Nov 30, 2025 at 8:01 PM UTC
On a winter's night, looking out
How oft the frothy waves at shore Keep tryst with boulders young. Sorrow and joy hath it borne, Music hath it sung.
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Jul 19, 2025
Jul 19, 2025 at 11:30 AM UTC
I Listened
Plenty, long - it is pitiful. Is it never better than to taste of it? Empty, numb - it is pitiful. Is it naught that is more flavorful? In the living glass of the universe I am a liquid, Drink the drink. By the marsh like mixture of life, Split the iris, Eye to eye. As the electric echo of an echo Waves as expression, I am a particle. I am the light By the gypsum rose grown. I am the order borne out of the primordial. In weaves & webs perennial, I am the pyramid doubled. By the barycenter offset zero, I am without mass & weightless. In the predeterminants of the hypermatrix, I am a bolt of lightning and the thunder. By the storm of the ocean struck, I am a standing wave in motion. Material and immaterial.
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Nov 21, 2024
Nov 21, 2024 at 1:48 PM UTC
Drink The Draught
temporarily the currents shift to polarity stars aligned, planets aligned event horizon, singularity. vision stretched to infinity what it means to see me wihte room, empty spaces black sea fibonacci randomized perfection crystalline & unstratified limitless, free direction open palms, third eye to truly live, and happily die beneath the ground, above the sky this union of the soul to the peace found inside of the cosmic energy that flows- eddying currents, the tides that wash away the woes of life
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Sep 13, 2023
Sep 13, 2023 at 12:05 PM UTC
No Avail
Subtlety, and nonchalant Brace reality and confront What needs to be Arriving at decisions carefully Meditative & decisively, But knowing when to be abrupt Head held high, chin up, Shoulders squared,  Ready to face what's in front Dissected corpses of the past Left in the lab Behind the frontal lobe History is, Things that have come to pass And things still yet to unfold
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Apr 20, 2023
Apr 20, 2023 at 3:01 PM UTC
Big Round Globe
Raindrops Dripping silently from the flaccid branches With leaves like dying embers And a solitary crow gazing at the sky
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Oct 4, 2020
Oct 4, 2020 at 7:25 AM UTC
Ambience #3
Winter heat A thousand hues Incandescent crimson tree fingers Reaching out in the afternoon sun
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Oct 4, 2020
Oct 4, 2020 at 3:12 AM UTC
Ambience #2
White melting dunes Sprinkled with acorns and dust Out and up grow gothic evergreens Into the blue serenity above
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Oct 4, 2020
Oct 4, 2020 at 2:54 AM UTC
Ambience #1
The Great Storyteller pens ink to the wind Pressing pen to its paper skin shredding its word on the taste of rain its drip of spirit in deep refrain A sweet scented memory echoes and burs A woe of regret weeping high in the nest of its underworld The humid mist of nostalgia rests its net oer the black veil Sinking its face to its deep blue belly Its pale faint ***** in her sleeping beauty claims its kiss to widen its wake
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May 22, 2020
May 22, 2020 at 1:53 PM UTC
Inspiration
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
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Feb 1, 2019
Feb 1, 2019 at 8:28 PM UTC
channeling
Imagining Georgia O’Keeffe Goddess 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 Reflection 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 8/10/2018
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Oct 21, 2018
Oct 21, 2018 at 11:55 AM UTC
Georgia O’Keeffe
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
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Jul 30, 2018
Jul 30, 2018 at 3:10 AM UTC
Silenced - Haiku
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.
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Jul 16, 2018
Jul 16, 2018 at 4:05 AM UTC
Soul
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.
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Jun 25, 2018
Jun 25, 2018 at 10:56 AM UTC
Flowers at first
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 or 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
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Mar 21, 2017
Mar 21, 2017 at 5:43 AM UTC
water wonder ...
' "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 sounds complementing 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 wilderness and what's there to miss at all means ' ***lovable etudes classical chello drifts bansuri flutes*** '
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Aug 9, 2015
Aug 9, 2015 at 9:14 AM UTC
In the World of Mortals there's No Greater Perfection than Music
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.
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Jul 7, 2015
Jul 7, 2015 at 7:15 AM UTC
quote ~ xviii
"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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Nov 13, 2014
Nov 13, 2014 at 1:24 PM UTC
Just be here, exist in a secret world for real