#sophist
Wistfulness is the state of my existence..constantly returning to the place I come from..always feeling like a soul floating on a star ceiling watching over my surroundings..blended in a distant place that doesn’t bend to the measure of time..in quiet detachment from the world true to my being..as realities shift condensing together at once..as if I already experienced reality in an incomprehensible, hypnotic stream away from my immediate present & all my five senses rendered surreal living in a constant dream..a concentrated flow to the center of my cerebrum..a view from the Rose window in the dark cathedral of my mind..where the tiny light particles in the sun beam passing through pulsate in my sight and the deep waves of silence echoing in the corners ring in my ear..where even darkness speaks dancing specs of iridescence..and colours weep intricate opaque gleams..concealed in an omnipotent and brimful beauty that passes never captured or understood..an unfathomed sacred language I can only feel..with fey farseeing eyes and a tranquil faint smile..like a scenic sophist..where everything in a word has a world and weight as real as anything else I can overwhelmingly see & touch..and everything around me becomes one with my own soul..
Sep 21, 2019
Sep 21, 2019 at 8:42 PM UTC
27th. August. 2014
Once, a promise..
Stronger, kinder and wiser..
A silent seeker..
Today, a creed..
Tenacious, gracious and sagest..
A singing sophist..
Sep 21, 2019
Sep 21, 2019 at 8:41 PM UTC
L’amour fluerit ici
I loved.
I loved against reason,
against wrath, against doubt, against betrayal,
against the sun, against the sky,
against the stars, against heavens,
against curse and bless.
I loved against eternity.
I loved through god, through reckoning,
through creation and rebellion.
My love..they killed my love.
Killed my love.
My love.
Your rib.
My heart in your ribs.
I was your rib.
Your heart
in my ribs.
My broken ribs.
Your broken ribs.
My soul,
my sophist soul,
my dancing soul
and bleeding feet
dance in worship;
prayers and pleas,
poems and pardons
at our grave.
At dust.
Your ashes and dust
seep through my hands,
seep through my soul
from water through my eyes,
from wounds through my skin,
from words through my lips,
from your ashes and dust;
from a grain of sand;
A cherry blossom tree..
your dreaming tree
blooming in my skin;
the amber in my bones;
the roots in my veins;
Oh my love.
My divine love.
L’amour fluerit ici;
Love blooms here.
Heaven is here.
Your soul is here;
Eternal.
Your soul eternal.
Grass is not greener on the other side;
grass is a holy tree;
an eternal tree;
a holy tree.
Oh holy,
my holy,
my holy angel,
my angel Gabriel;
stillness answers wrath,
faith answers doubt,
love answers betrayal,
and trees are eternity.
Oh holy tree;
my holy tree;
I pray to thee.
L’amour fluerit ici.
Sep 21, 2019
Sep 21, 2019 at 8:33 PM UTC