Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
"alchemical" poems
Radness The Philosopher’s Stone is not just a spiritual metaphor but an actual substance that can transmute lead or mercury into gold. The Stone is a product of Alchemy. Unlike chemistry, which only deals with physical matter and energy, Alchemy makes use of etheric and astral energies to reconfigure matter at the quantum level. Alchemy is to chemistry what a cube is to the square; it is a superset of chemistry and is capable of so much more. How Etheric Energy Overrides Physical Laws Alchemical achievements require successfully gathering, concentrating, and multiplying etheric energy. When this energy reaches a critical threshold, it overpowers the normal laws of physics and allows seemingly miraculous processes to take place. I believe it does this by biasing probability. By amplifying the probability of minor quantum effects, which are normally limited to the subatomic scale, they manifest on the larger atomic scale. In this way, one element spontaneously transforms into another. The world around us is made of subatomic particles that regularly undergo unpredictable jumps, teleportation, bilocation, superposition, and other strange quantum behaviors. Why don’t everyday solid objects do likewise? Because the random quantum jittering of their subatomic particles collectively average out to zero. Think of a large crowd of people; seen from the air, the crowd as a whole is stationary, even though individuals within the crowd move in seemingly random directions. It’s because their movements are random and uncoordinated that they average to zero net movement on the whole. The world we see around us is merely a crowd of subatomic particles whose individual quantum jumps aren’t apparent because they average to collective stillness. Physical laws that govern our everyday world, known as the deterministic laws of classical physics, are merely the laws of the crowd. These laws are what’s left of quantum physics after the unpredictability is removed through statistical averaging. They are not absolute laws; they are just the most probable manner in which matter and energy behave. Physical laws can be bent. While the probability is incredibly low that enough coordination and coherence develops among the quantum jitters to manifest on a collective scale, that is exactly what etheric energy does. It alters probability and thereby skews the laws of thermodynamics, gravity, electromagnetism, and chemistry. Alchemy does not violate the laws of physics, nor does it always follow them, rather it bends them as needed. It operates upon the quantum foundation from which these laws arise in the first place, via etheric energy affecting the probability of quantum events.
0
May 28, 2013
May 28, 2013 at 8:59 PM UTC
Alchemy
Radness The Philosopher’s Stone is not just a spiritual metaphor but an actual substance that can transmute lead or mercury into gold. The Stone is a product of Alchemy. Unlike chemistry, which only deals with physical matter and energy, Alchemy makes use of etheric and astral energies to reconfigure matter at the quantum level. Alchemy is to chemistry what a cube is to the square; it is a superset of chemistry and is capable of so much more. How Etheric Energy Overrides Physical Laws Alchemical achievements require successfully gathering, concentrating, and multiplying etheric energy. When this energy reaches a critical threshold, it overpowers the normal laws of physics and allows seemingly miraculous processes to take place. I believe it does this by biasing probability. By amplifying the probability of minor quantum effects, which are normally limited to the subatomic scale, they manifest on the larger atomic scale. In this way, one element spontaneously transforms into another. The world around us is made of subatomic particles that regularly undergo unpredictable jumps, teleportation, bilocation, superposition, and other strange quantum behaviors. Why don’t everyday solid objects do likewise? Because the random quantum jittering of their subatomic particles collectively average out to zero. Think of a large crowd of people; seen from the air, the crowd as a whole is stationary, even though individuals within the crowd move in seemingly random directions. It’s because their movements are random and uncoordinated that they average to zero net movement on the whole. The world we see around us is merely a crowd of subatomic particles whose individual quantum jumps aren’t apparent because they average to collective stillness. Physical laws that govern our everyday world, known as the deterministic laws of classical physics, are merely the laws of the crowd. These laws are what’s left of quantum physics after the unpredictability is removed through statistical averaging. They are not absolute laws; they are just the most probable manner in which matter and energy behave. Physical laws can be bent. While the probability is incredibly low that enough coordination and coherence develops among the quantum jitters to manifest on a collective scale, that is exactly what etheric energy does. It alters probability and thereby skews the laws of thermodynamics, gravity, electromagnetism, and chemistry. Alchemy does not violate the laws of physics, nor does it always follow them, rather it bends them as needed. It operates upon the quantum foundation from which these laws arise in the first place, via etheric energy affecting the probability of quantum events.
Continue reading...
8
the ashes of ancient alchemical martyrs glow in the great tunnels of Hadron, whizzing faster than time at the behest of man, the measurer of all things including whether things are worth measuring or not a sordid joke on the great minds that sorted the mystery out long before quantum physicists crawled out from under the church’s labyrinth of insulting confabulations and pillaged the fortunes of others to build the great rings shall we bow to the new God? **** your experience, I’ll prove you wrong* He bellows from the podium built from the finest endangered trees and polished with the spit of all who disagree, and yet it’s truth in action the 9mm’s omniscient song sung across this suffering world: **** with me, and you’ll discover the truth**
0
Mar 7, 2011
Mar 7, 2011 at 7:36 PM UTC
Collision
You'll be initiated, when you are ready. Life knows, and the initiation rites are waiting. Where you are holding, you will be broken. Where you've lost heart, you will be shaken. Where you are careless, you'll meet your neglect. What you are averse to, will be total and stark. What you are attached to, will be pried from your grips. Ignorance will be wrought with vision, a burning, to make you see. You are loved so much that you will be engulfed in the flames of loves fire, in order to ignite your own hearts flames, and fulfill loves destiny. Alchemical change will ensue, destroying you, to make way for new love. Licked by some Hellish ordeal, Ambivalence gives way to Engagement, Rage engenders Clarity, Anxiety becomes Inspiration, Apathy roars into Feeling, Melancholy imbues it's Depth, Licked by some Heavenly delight. Phoenixed, you'll fly, the hero of your own journey, wielding revelatory fire, with great Wisdom and Compassion, a Gestalt, anew. The circle closes, it is a spiral, to the beginning, of another Circle.
0
Mar 17, 2014
Mar 17, 2014 at 1:24 PM UTC
Initiation
My bathroom, the bedroom, my living room and the kitchen are all spying on me daily, seen my nakedness, more than enough to describe every bit of me, records my every moment and daily visits, day and night. I'm not ashamed to display my nakedness even **** without decorum. My bathroom mirror is the first to see the show of my new dance steps, and i allowed it to see and record the secret of my life. So shamelessly I displayed my secret acts in my bedroom, doing all sorts of stuff, things my mouth cannot freely talk about. In there in the closet of my beloved bedroom I committed all sorts of crimes that even you will be ashamed to watch if you know what I mean. In the privacy of my bedroom no holes barred. What do I say about my kitchen. I became an alchemist and a herbalist taught, groomed and approve by my mother. On the cauldron as a herbalist I mixed up all kinds of herbs and spices and come up with my alchemical concoction to help entertain my family and friends and also to feed and condition my body. My living room now turned into a theatre where I became an actor to everyone who cared to watch me display my prowess. All these I do in quietness of my small enclave where my bathroom and Kitchen, the bedroom and living room witnessed and spy on my follies. Did I tell you about Palomar the parrot and Kelly the German Shepard. They can tell you my story if you asked them. ©2018,Emeka Mokeme. All Rights Reserved.
0
Oct 22, 2018
Oct 22, 2018 at 3:29 PM UTC
THE SPIES IN THE HOUSE
*creating something in silence (save for keyboard clacks) is a practice in subliminal listening. Thought is like air and you can hear it whispering through the trees of your foresty dendrites. Misery mixes with ecstasy and love mixes with confused dislike-- for 11 days straight, I've been losing myself in the phosphene glare of love for a girl named Sasha. She insists she's not a Xanax ****** but by my standards I'm still not sure if I'm convinced altho this seems like an unfair snap-judgement that still hurts her feelings. Perhaps she needs it, and I'm just blanked as the next heretic to go on trial in the pharmacratic inquisition. For the first time the other night I experimented (incorrectly) with DMT. Sprinkling it over a packed bowl of tea (marijuana), I drew back a breath and felt nothing more than life as a conceited dream with a strange alchemical hangover-fear of psychosis.*
0
Jan 5, 2014
Jan 5, 2014 at 4:49 PM UTC
gazzius
cajun family personalities dealing with alchemical transmutation transactions changing of values history for money.. wildly popular show.. biting humor wraps sly bidding and exchange greed rises and falls.. initial bid and response a scaling gap startled unbelief.. increments then decide decisions' sharp edge money or heritage.. convenience argues bad choices faced painful needs are voiced a values paradox.. microcosm of life now...? snapshots of our mirror...?
0
Aug 27, 2012
Aug 27, 2012 at 1:05 PM UTC
pawn stars
imagine all the cells that form to join in your sensation all the stars that blew your bits together for proper procreation being born with every breath and reaching death through exhalation-- i simply can't exist without you nor you without i, and of this we can be sure that (though the sureness of my i obscures the many in us all[ mere words to ***** for thoughts we cope with] )it will rumble beneath and explode at the surface to delayed surprise of just reprise (mistaking inflation as progress) that libations of dogmas won't change a thing: when you look at the fibers in the fabric of being (spun finely by spiders invisibly swift) and if our knowledge were but a fly we'd see ourselves trapped by its infinite web, both victim to its trap and servant to its host (though this is the nature of matters sticking close[ especially light years away]) just as the lattice of language roots deep inside double-helix libraries unimaginably tall filled with books authored by curious protons, excited electrons and fleeting photons, composed of sentences by snarky quarks and gluons lying in -eate groups with unseen companions (read between the lines) working in union to fashion a sum greater than summation could do-- an alchemical-calculus of fractal fluidity, finding contexts for novelty to sing songs like Earth (though just a planet in other eyes) to give conscious rise within the cosmic playground embodied by us, but not encompassed by us; rather extended through us as curiosity mirrored.
0
Sep 13, 2012
Sep 13, 2012 at 2:37 AM UTC
mirrored
imagine all the cells that form to join in your sensation all the stars that blew your bits together for proper procreation being born with every breath and reaching death through exhalation-- i simply can't exist without you nor you without i, and of this we can be sure that (though the sureness of my i obscures the many in us all[ mere words to ***** for thoughts we cope with] )it will rumble beneath and explode at the surface to delayed surprise of just reprise (mistaking inflation as progress) that libations of dogmas won't change a thing: when you look at the fibers in the fabric of being (spun finely by spiders invisibly swift) and if our knowledge were but a fly we'd see ourselves trapped by its infinite web, both victim to its trap and servant to its host (though this is the nature of matters sticking close[ especially light years away]) just as the lattice of language roots deep inside double-helix libraries unimaginably tall filled with books authored by curious protons, excited electrons and fleeting photons, composed of sentences by snarky quarks and gluons lying in -eate groups with unseen companions (read between the lines) working in union to fashion a sum greater than summation could do-- an alchemical-calculus of fractal fluidity, finding contexts for novelty to sing songs like Earth (though just a planet in other eyes) to give conscious rise within the cosmic playground embodied by us, but not encompassed by us; rather extended through us as curiosity mirrored.
Continue reading...
39
Maybe it's just the first time doing ******* in order to expand my horizons; gain perspective in great company and knowing full well the moreish nature, as it has been purported, of such a vice; but, you know what they say: "When in Rome..." but lest ye forget; "Do or do not, there is no try" all the while still maintaining moderation, partially by habit and partially by force, for there is said to be no such thing as quality in that regard from whence I come. and thus, as if by providence, "When in Rome.." So, 'twixt that personally groundbreaking experience plus lots of Caffeine and Alcohol in some haphazard alchemical combination helped Reno to be a good-ass time on Halloween after playing a sweet-ass Rock Bar with some sweet-ass bands. And, to boot, having not slept, this morning was a rude non-awakening, as well as an ominous first day of November, what with the LAX shooting; our roadie and I watched it as it unfolded with repetitive loops of footage and dodgy claims with more qualifiers than actual substantial language; but the Media is just doing it's job as usual; play on sensationalism especially for ratings; okay if profitable. Needless to ******* say, it's been a crazy ******* day. Needless to ******* say, it may be a crazy ******* month.
0
Nov 1, 2013
Nov 1, 2013 at 11:08 PM UTC
Reno (When in Rome)
Xenophiles see it all the time. The transubstantiation of matter causing hysteria among every culture. One alchemical shift from lead to gold and you have empaths weeping over asps, telekinetics dropping things on fairy's heads. A tiny fusion of atoms and the next thing you know satyrs are dancing with dingos, sphinxes are doing the two step. Who knows what the next time/space shift is going to bring? Sigh...........makes for a long day at work.  Ya know?
0
Oct 27, 2011
Oct 27, 2011 at 8:49 PM UTC
Just Another Day in Sector 8
to love to be a loving human being a good person to love, is a way of life the way of life the ART of life can this form of art be taught? to be in love? madness possession an alchemical storm to be in love... temporary insanity? platonic love, who are you? love is in the absolution you grace me with when i have hurt you love is the violence in my heart love is all the subtle, invincible things love is the image of you in my mind love is every breath had i been a better person, i would have given it to everyone but i only have room for you flames engulf and burn away at the allegory of my skin love is a mask i choose to wear, but it is shaped like my real face, and it's not painful to wear wether love is to burn, let me burn forever
0
Apr 23, 2014
Apr 23, 2014 at 12:25 AM UTC
agape
I am here and it is the day after. I lift a pile of unread mail off of a chair and open the blinds, And watch the sun boil the dust in the air. I set and I take it in. The room smells of old corsets and perfumed talcum powder. An antique Lady Schick Consolette hair dryer Hides partly obscured under the heavy frame of the carved mahogany bed Along with stacks of magazines and catalogs and………… God knows what else lurks there. And I realize that I am the only one now lurking, Looking into a room that had been forbidden to me The soul domain of the lady of the house. But she in not here to make things tidy for this impromptu visit. She would be so shamed by my eyes taking this all in, Her secrets, her pills, her special candies, her oils, her perfumes - All of the alchemical accruements of femininity in jars and tiny boxes. And the symbols of her wizardry, her diamond encrusted Eastern Star ring, Pendants, broaches, earrings, necklaces, bobbles, bracelets, clasps, loose pearls- From a strand I broke long ago during happier days. The sun dust boils from this cauldron now, This stuffy, over stuffed chamber of perfume and chocolate, Of daybeds and special treatments, laxatives, gels, powered and pills. I dream…..a can of gas and a match would be a fitting end And then I see it on the dresser, an old photo of a family, a pretend family And a face is cut out of it, his face…….and so I feel, for a moment Her pain and see the world has she may have seen it. So be it. It is done.
0
Mar 1, 2013
Mar 1, 2013 at 11:01 PM UTC
The Chamber of Perfume and Chocolate
I am here and it is the day after. I lift a pile of unread mail off of a chair and open the blinds, And watch the sun boil the dust in the air. I set and I take it in. The room smells of old corsets and perfumed talcum powder. An antique Lady Schick Consolette hair dryer Hides partly obscured under the heavy frame of the carved mahogany bed Along with stacks of magazines and catalogs and………… God knows what else lurks there. And I realize that I am the only one now lurking, Looking into a room that had been forbidden to me The soul domain of the lady of the house. But she in not here to make things tidy for this impromptu visit. She would be so shamed by my eyes taking this all in, Her secrets, her pills, her special candies, her oils, her perfumes - All of the alchemical accruements of femininity in jars and tiny boxes. And the symbols of her wizardry, her diamond encrusted Eastern Star ring, Pendants, broaches, earrings, necklaces, bobbles, bracelets, clasps, loose pearls- From a strand I broke long ago during happier days. The sun dust boils from this cauldron now, This stuffy, over stuffed chamber of perfume and chocolate, Of daybeds and special treatments, laxatives, gels, powered and pills. I dream…..a can of gas and a match would be a fitting end And then I see it on the dresser, an old photo of a family, a pretend family And a face is cut out of it, his face…….and so I feel, for a moment Her pain and see the world has she may have seen it. So be it. It is done.
Continue reading...
25
Up and down; a trend in life that continues to death and potentially thereafter. My life has been a mesh of many strange moments, days, minutes, and hours... I have yet to completely shake the solipsist angst I coyly developed following the summer after my graduation from high school. Sometimes, I really do half-expect the world to cave into some psychedelic stop-motion I can't escape from, capable of only gazing in fear and realizing that I'm trapped inside the matrix. Love, too, has assisted in bringing me a sense of release.. but it has also conversely caused lows to become lower as I now have more to lose (in a romantic context). My head buzzes with strange information and gazes at others content with a twinge of jealousy at times. There is a way out of this; I've seen it done before. But what alchemical combination can save a battered soul who can't be sure what the ultimate cause of the suffering is? It feels like a great part of it is my fault.. but the problem is how does one go about ceasing a toxic cycle in its tracks? Someone declaring, 'simply do this!' has only ever made it worse. But could that be a form of resistance on my part? Some lack of faith in myself or in the universe? How does one go about simply 'doing this'?
0
Aug 24, 2013
Aug 24, 2013 at 12:31 AM UTC
written in desperation (June 2013)
Merely a silhouette with its head cocked to the side, arms reaching out, stretching through the majesty in knives, and stabbing spots into my eyes. I rise to burn Feel to learn For the better of my vendettas Steady hands On humbled umbrellas Of sedatives And other derivatives Of my dissatisfaction In lacking patience , I repaint the pavement, and face it after lacing spaceships with the enslavement of my basements, and place it in my heart. Spiraling in slimy things In lucid dreams I'm asleep Walking amongst the dead My demon brings The corpse of kings In sheets From battered beds I am said To have slithered With the best of men Drained and bested In the molested Ingesting of entire Settlements Not to mourn As i warned In subtle hints Most would whimper As i rinsed my hands Of this Varmint **** And moved on with it I get what i got coming As im drumming The anthem And humming With phantoms Tandem To alchemical Dreams Singing In romantic strings Scrutinizing My advertising Of fiends Leaning in To scream I awake unclean Seeing Differently Than before
0
Jan 14, 2013
Jan 14, 2013 at 1:19 PM UTC
Daymare
"Rough", a polite way of expressing my apprehension from the start, couldn't have known I was shaking for all the wrong (Reasons) that you left are in surplus this season; flipping vowels upside down along with my smile, and faded hues stand out the most now;  this pale blue follows me but that seems so irrelevant most days. Years pass and as my eyes grow feeble, I see more, more, more, and you are the greatest beauty I have ever seen, your fragile chest and broken bones more than memories for me to launder between the parts of my brain that still give a **** I replaced the decay of my spirit with rotted lungs, with magick however alleged, ritual a key, components fine like the filigree that lined my illusions, dramatic tone and teeth marks make me quiver, alchemical bonds between the ground and I, afire is the sky and my insides turn bone white and glowing under your moon. Stop spinning ... The feeling of overflowing consumes me, and abundance isn't always preferred, to tell you the truth I kind of miss all of my innards being contained within me. But each day I feel a little less invisible and it gets that much easier to deal with this (hole) thing, forget the flashing moments of misery  in which I could suffocate myself because it's hard to complain, I must admit I've created every crevice and ****** crack that you see on my body with my own devices, like trying to mold clay with scissorhands; This expulsion may be near unpalatable but it seems to me the only thing that helps me forget, truth is I don't know why I haven't yet; just chaotic noise like the raps that flowed from the lips of the artist that I wasn't paying any attention to at all that night at that coffee shop.
0
Oct 11, 2018
Oct 11, 2018 at 2:57 AM UTC
coffee shop.
"Rough", a polite way of expressing my apprehension from the start, couldn't have known I was shaking for all the wrong (Reasons) that you left are in surplus this season; flipping vowels upside down along with my smile, and faded hues stand out the most now;  this pale blue follows me but that seems so irrelevant most days. Years pass and as my eyes grow feeble, I see more, more, more, and you are the greatest beauty I have ever seen, your fragile chest and broken bones more than memories for me to launder between the parts of my brain that still give a **** I replaced the decay of my spirit with rotted lungs, with magick however alleged, ritual a key, components fine like the filigree that lined my illusions, dramatic tone and teeth marks make me quiver, alchemical bonds between the ground and I, afire is the sky and my insides turn bone white and glowing under your moon. Stop spinning ... The feeling of overflowing consumes me, and abundance isn't always preferred, to tell you the truth I kind of miss all of my innards being contained within me. But each day I feel a little less invisible and it gets that much easier to deal with this (hole) thing, forget the flashing moments of misery  in which I could suffocate myself because it's hard to complain, I must admit I've created every crevice and ****** crack that you see on my body with my own devices, like trying to mold clay with scissorhands; This expulsion may be near unpalatable but it seems to me the only thing that helps me forget, truth is I don't know why I haven't yet; just chaotic noise like the raps that flowed from the lips of the artist that I wasn't paying any attention to at all that night at that coffee shop.
Continue reading...
3
It somewhat looks like a bull-dosed waterfall It’s a lot, but it’s neither great nor grand Or hardly worthy of a standing ovation Yet still, here we are Glancing favored smiles in its direction As if looking at a reflection I advise, care less for the standard Demand what is extraordinarily preposterous Stop this nonsense of looking for a chest with an S Or an answer that is yes Or to somehow beat this test and be better than the rest Of the leftover instuments placed here to stand and watch this empire crumble Oh how lovely to feel humble What am I to do? Sit here all day on my thumb? Hearts are growing numb Minds are decaying sick And money drives the ambulance to recovery, Or is headed straight for deterioration? Sky above, changing weather Look what’s been done in the name of something better Hot young seduction dressed in the stench of power and red Self preservation is what ticks time The timeline folds around seeing eyes, blinding All your knowledge means nothing from an undercast view Mankind thinks, but cannot know Some truth is sad, but still is so Create beauty tare it down Build the trust then leave town I want more; a selfish wish When the burn has reached the third degree My intent is lost with secrecy
0
Nov 12, 2010
Nov 12, 2010 at 8:26 AM UTC
Alchemical Growth is the Goal
Sauntering the night away among Suburban streets with the cars the light pollution the concrete and all those other signs of humanity that writers before me loathed so much. True, Thoreau may admire an alchemical need for walking every day and every night in order to stay sane. Yet he would shun my use of an mp3 player as "too technological" or "too inorganic." Yet as I make my way through paved streets why does the music fit my steps so well? And if the Romantics would hate my headphones, why does every happy song remind me, with a smile, of her?
0
Jan 31, 2011
Jan 31, 2011 at 11:44 AM UTC
Suburban Sauntering
I have information channeling in from the past through my DNA i am an open portal to receive the teachings of ancient tantric left hand paths , my mother accepted her teaching from an aged midwife with no daughter , she taught her the power of intuition and the secret ways to move between realms without being detected And this teaching is so secret that only now do i see the lessons, She wove them into games we played and how she dressed herself , held herself I run quickly with the tumbling lessons falling out of pasts giant lips painted in the sunset sky , i can read the clouds for messages , they never fail , the moon too sends her cool wisdom i can read people quickly and see through to their highest self , but it takes energy so i must cultivate myself i am a garden and flowers burst through my skin and out from behind my eyes wild roses grow , to fall into the pit of my stomach and be burnt by the roaring sun inside after a while the alchemical process subsides and i distill the free magic scent from which i add a whiff or two to my wrists before i leave home , this is a protection shield of the highest order take heed if these words talk to your soul , because then you will know i have a message to deliver The collision of two planes will destroy both ( metaphysically) giving rise to a merged existence that holds qualities of each parent, yet, totally new aspects from our current mentalities , thus the cycle can only be compleated when we are ready , each one will find their own turn and preahps a path they would do well to learn is the path of the soul , mind and body The collapse of ridged belief systems and debt binders ( physically) will mark the border lines , the doldrums where the weak are prayed upon like a pastor dishing out blessings to the congregation And my friend , in amongst the mess there will be those who would do well to lead you astray , hold fast , as long as you know your own heart the ripples will only fuel you instead of decay We are speeding up to convergence , can you feel it?
0
Jul 18, 2013
Jul 18, 2013 at 11:40 AM UTC
Solar Cultivations in the Jungle of the Mind
I have information channeling in from the past through my DNA i am an open portal to receive the teachings of ancient tantric left hand paths , my mother accepted her teaching from an aged midwife with no daughter , she taught her the power of intuition and the secret ways to move between realms without being detected And this teaching is so secret that only now do i see the lessons, She wove them into games we played and how she dressed herself , held herself I run quickly with the tumbling lessons falling out of pasts giant lips painted in the sunset sky , i can read the clouds for messages , they never fail , the moon too sends her cool wisdom i can read people quickly and see through to their highest self , but it takes energy so i must cultivate myself i am a garden and flowers burst through my skin and out from behind my eyes wild roses grow , to fall into the pit of my stomach and be burnt by the roaring sun inside after a while the alchemical process subsides and i distill the free magic scent from which i add a whiff or two to my wrists before i leave home , this is a protection shield of the highest order take heed if these words talk to your soul , because then you will know i have a message to deliver The collision of two planes will destroy both ( metaphysically) giving rise to a merged existence that holds qualities of each parent, yet, totally new aspects from our current mentalities , thus the cycle can only be compleated when we are ready , each one will find their own turn and preahps a path they would do well to learn is the path of the soul , mind and body The collapse of ridged belief systems and debt binders ( physically) will mark the border lines , the doldrums where the weak are prayed upon like a pastor dishing out blessings to the congregation And my friend , in amongst the mess there will be those who would do well to lead you astray , hold fast , as long as you know your own heart the ripples will only fuel you instead of decay We are speeding up to convergence , can you feel it?
Continue reading...
18
She said, “See? I knew you’d be back.” And he said, “We’re home; finally.”
0
Dec 8, 2018
Dec 8, 2018 at 5:10 PM UTC
Alchemical Union
Change my blood into gold Elixer of life A toked up martyr   I must be philosopher ****** to be so magical I transform change the same I re-arrange invert thought bubbles to elipse to make a circle out of cyst Wand and Air like pen and paper convert the blank page to the strange till the shoobies get ****** at the deviant sage Hidden , covered by enigma... Sometimes I write so hard I might just Rip ya like paper the message of saviors, so heavy it topples the rules like when the they drop bass in a rave yah but treble not in ear sight, As it breaks the music can also protect what an insight. Quarel with myself a couple times like Quicksilver and sulfur *Purification dissolution death and ressurection dissolve and let loose the fatal connections* Become alchemist like a potter and turn the clay to a vessel IGNITE THE SPIRIT LEVEL OVERCOME THE STRESSFUL
0
Apr 27, 2016
Apr 27, 2016 at 12:21 PM UTC
Alchemical ingestion
Twin Flames; The Runner, and The Chaser. I will come to you, as much as our souls will find the way to one another. After long gone apart, to mature before the Alchemical Union. I will find you; in Divine Timing--- with His Divine Intervention, we will reunite.
0
Nov 26, 2018
Nov 26, 2018 at 3:36 AM UTC
Twin Flame