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flowing rivers simulate the virtual reality of love
warriors topple over forgotten
like cartons of used milk
silk worms speak sovereign messages and warn us of our fate
are we ill or are we healthy
stealthily imprisoned by our visions
finish the sentences and sever your attachments
respecting tradition leads to detachment
a semblance of serenity
the giver of the dawn used shards of standard force
hover in the mind’s sky
houses pass you by
in finite allegories
gardens blossom
governing movies and seating our jobless
go outside now
remove the shades from your eyes
breathe in soma and drink from the sky
sightless sorrow forges on towards tomorrow
art is a balancing act
she came out of her shell in order to tell you a story
of garlands of silver and gold
woven finely into ribbons
greased with oil from a rare toad
ATL Aug 4
attachments arrhythmias
seeking cadence in
novelties embrace
placet experiri (he likes to experiment)
is the justification that resounds
in the juncture of you
when possibilities allure falls
as a needle on a record
spinning backwards to distort what is extant and insipid,
twirling thoughts like tattered organdy
carelessly whisked into the breeze,
deposited somewhere beyond the tide at its peak, far and away
wishing for a togetherness
that shortens the wait for waters recession-  
you, shouting words long-dead into the ocean; begging it to remember what it birthed
Nonsense Poet Sep 2018
Unconditional love
Amazing journey above
Truth or Lie?
Or just one more catchphrase?
Freedom or the Cage
Freedom in a cage
Hard decision  
We have to make
Complexity and fluidity
Loving without condition
Behavior versus a feeling
No more restriction
No chains or anchors.
Spread your wings
Start to fly above
I have no idea why I´m writing it.
you left this world
with no last words
it was too early
or maybe too late

i cried a little
but not enough
a tear went down

from my eyes
to my lips
the bitter taste
of a single tear

no feelings felt
no attachments dwelt

my soul
a lost hole
my last breath

when will we ever meet
when will we ever bleed

hand in hand
until the very end
My grandfather passed away, I see all those people around me are sad I should be sad but I'm not
Ashley Chapman Sep 2018
Past our past,
Yours and mine,
My soul yearns,
As I walk by silver clad trees; 
A favourite parked orange vintage Saab;
And memories newly raw, too.


Then quite extraordinarily,
The Cosmic Whale,
Stirs in my solar-plexus,
And my objectivity dissolves,
As conscious consciously hears:
The song of my inner Gypsy,
And look!
My Narwhal,
Up among the stars,
Beyond days and nights,
Roaming free,
Scything milky ways in half,
Fireballs disrupting,
In infinite timelessness,
Beyond the pull of gravity,
Where no vortex holds:
The 'othering' whirlpool,
That keeps us compressed
- as a collapsed star -
At last my Cosmic Leviathan blows
- ALL is released and falls away.


Such is my Cosmic Behemoth:
The funnel *****
And inside out,
Is turned.
As at last on course;
Whoo! Whoo! Whoo?
But no-one replies!
The navigation station is empty:
This is motion without traction,
And no acceleration,
Slipping atoms would only slow!
The flow,
No windows either on the view,
As even visual truths are but fleeting,
And words muddy the clear unconscious streaming,
As the journey beyond mind begins.


The worldly maze recedes,
A bird's-eye vision steers the empty ship;
No harbours are plotted,
From here on
- endless flight in night,
Without end,
Wings blaze occasionally nearby,
A host of fireflies pattern the cosmic pool,
A whole immensity in which to dance.
Expanding outward,
Not as we would have it, but as it is beyond our eyes.
Where space is born,
Again and again,
And so!
Exults in nothing,
A self beyond understanding,
In silence thrives,
Where sense logic makes no waves.


The Cosmic Whale is off,
All attachments gone,
Like a flake of skin,
A fold in time -
Falls off.
The anchor dropped,
Is not retrieved,
What use is I -
When the clock's monotony no longer counts!


The surface disappears,
The ocean depth submerges,
In the cabin
The lights are dimmed to monochrome,
As navigators know,
Blind sees the furthest.
Charts are soon forgotten,
The imagination leads:
Ueah, the Cosmic Mind,
Vast and free
In all directions!
No need to plot a line,
Instead like the humble earthworm,
Who in darkness fertilises:
Beauty, how unimaginable, how unknowingly,
Is by all that envelopes guided,
As from the cracked ***!
Which in Reality was suffocated,
The source is nourished.


As my Cosmic Whale plunges the deeps,
Look to the expanse:

     The eternal behemoth whose flight
     Everywhere provides,
     Guileless and unobjectified.
     A subjectivity that knows no
     Is unto itself unknowable.

In brushstrokes.
The universe,
Is as it rolls Created.
Where logic has little to do,
As all,
Already simply is.
This poem is actually about the ego's death. How I will mourne it, and how the fight to let it go will be immense as it is for us all. Death in life comes in many shapes, not ultimate death, but our relationships, *le petite mort*. Of course, there is life beyond relationship death. Beyond a sense of end; and yes, ultimately all is good preparation for that all consuming final death. This poem was inspired by untenable love for another; by the paintings in bold, almost lurid, but zen-like brushstrokes of a fellow Tunnel member, Genevieve Leavold; and by my mate Chris Godber who alluded to whales. It also has to do with my Gypsy heart and Celine's Salon, in Soho at Troy 22, where we celebrated the traveller's soul. Finally, a YouTube clip of a talk given by Guru Mooji in which awareness is being conscious of conscious.

Bon Voyage!
Sjr1000 Jan 13
When you are swept over by sorrow
And your night is forlorn
When your hours are reigning pain
My compassion will be there.

When everything is taken
And your attachments are all broken
And you've squandered your daily bank of seconds
My compassion will be there.

When rage and retaliation strike home
Alienation, isolation sings loud
When the thoughts are like a spinning whirling twisted train with the most perverse of engineers
And the tracks lead to endless night
My compassion will be there.

When love has slipped through your fingers again
And you're in the deepest hole you've ever known with only a shovel
And your fingers can't grip
And it can't be fixed without a ladder
And there is no ladder anywhere
My compassion will be there.

Whether you're too young or too old
Whether your world is
Expanding  or contracting
My compassion will be there.

Countless life stories
Many echoing rooms
The human condition played out
In infinite permutations
When I have nothing else to say
And nothing else to give
As best I can
My compassion will be there.
Cristi Jun 2017

To avoid it as much as possible;
Nothing or no one is guaranteed to last forever.
One must avoid materialistic ambition and luxurious desires,
Blink and rub away their hungry, dollar sign eyes.
Greed and longing for possessions that are often obtained
To impress people that do not even care about you
For one could never place a numerical value
On the breathtaking






One cannot rely on another for happiness;
For people may leave you, abandon you, hurt you.
You cannot ever truly know someone's thoughts and feelings;
Whether their ill intentions and snake eyes are hidden well
Behind pearly whites and cold, empty embraces.  
Those who you would gladly endure hardships for,
Bleed, cry, sweat, fight, suffer for,
Could abandon or betray you whenever they choose;
Thus, ultimately



            ­                                  truly



For you will always be there for you;
A simple guarantee that is overlooked and forgotten
As one's perspective shifts from minimalism to materialism.
Love the way you capture thoughts and ideas,
   The way you intertwine two differing sides of your brain with ease
   Intelligence, creativity, peculiarity and individuality is exercised
   In the imagination of your bewildering, complex mind.
Love the way your physical body safeguards your untamable spirit,
   The way it coats the essence of your being in a protective shell
   Like the undying tenderness each speck of stardust
   Has for the immensely astonishing galaxy that it composes.
Love the way you are able to feel raw, passionate love
   That ****** and tugs at your delicate heart strings
   And gallops down each vertebrae of your spine
   In a jolt so vigorous that your mind, body, and spirit
   Unite to form an explosive feeling that can only be experienced
   When you watch her jaw drop in awe at the beauty that is




          ­                                    sunrise.


I become deeply infatuated, captivated, inspired
At the mesmerizing magnificence that constructs a single being.
It may just simply be my tendency to pay attention to detail
As a perfectionist's mind can appreciate small things
Oftentimes timidly, quietly, and from afar,
But nonetheless immensely deep and passionately
To the point where I cannot find words for such beauty;
The most I can do is curl the corners of my mouth upwards
And allow an exhilarated sigh to




         ­                                     lips.


Hopes, dreams, fears, thoughts, personalities, quirks, mannerisms;
Every single aspect of a being who I am blessed to exist with
Sparks a curiosity in me that is unmovable and insatiable.
It gently takes my hand and journeys me through an alluring dance
Of exploration, adoration, and understanding
Spinning and swaying to music that reverberated in our unified souls,
Who's tune and melody sparked and crackled
Magma and fire in our core,
Who's beat and rhythm soothed and eased
Streams of water through our veins
Until we








I have never felt so free,

So happy,

So alive.
Sobbingsoul Jan 28
Full marathon

Standing by the road of my  life
I witness
Here called in
this planet earth
Full of crowd
Running so fast
I don’t know where
They are running towards
But everyone seems
So busy
In this full marathon
Running  to win
The possessions
The positions
The accumulations
More than we need
More than we can digest

With so much greed
Attachments hatred
Thinking they live here forever
Hardly I see love being carried
I just watch
Only a few reach the destination
That is
Self realization
All I do is
Just watch this full marathon
Of life standing by the road
Of my life
At times when I forget
I end up being a runner too
But my breath reminds me
I pause
And watch again
My temporary hotel
Called body
How long I am
On vacation
Seems watching
Is more fun than running
Because I know
Nobody is winning here
Only running only running

I run half marathon few times a year I love it
But I see the Marathon on the road of life
Sam Hawkins Jul 2017
Let this be spark to collective action!
The exercise of natural freedoms and equality.

Sever attachments, break from your safety,
from the shores of who you think you are.

Set sail with faith,
placing ideologies in abeyance.

Set sail with soul songs,
join with saints and strangers
harmoniously singing.

Be ALL as One
in open repartee.

Brothers and sisters, all of a wild nature–
none left uninvited.

Friends at heart all, all welcome!

Who shall be chief navigator?

Trace sensitive fingers on contour maps the Universe makes.
Apply improvisations; as we navigate, we invent.

With tiniest of maps (the same is the largest
with infinite pathways) we are destined exactly
to found and inhabit New Earth.

Who brings gifts of intuitive sensing?

Shall we draw straws?

Any can buddy up with the experts
at the rational sextant.

Every single she and he of us
is a guiding star.

Accordingly, let’s begin
convergent conversations of stars.

Of the humans who choose to stay behind, let us love them.
Let us love them and let’s be on our way!

It is enough now that many have had good intentions,
have spoken authentically, enthusiastically.

Yet they do not wish to enter in.
Each in his or her own time.

Others have voiced opposition,
demonstrated resistance.

Some others — stuck in apathy,
in numbness, powerlessness.

Is fear of ****** death
the ultimate stopping?

What is living if living itself
is death?

Are you one who has ears
to hear?

Are you that very passenger
ready to disavow, to disembark?

Have you awakened
to your own alluring whisper?

Let us begin.
thirteen arrows are in the quill
breath is the bow that aims at the sun
unleash the mind from its attachments
as you tighten your grip upon reality
knowing for certain in your heart
that it will eventually all slip away
as water inevitably pours forth
from between clasped hands
nevertheless you pull
the thread of the sound current
until it’s absolute tension
reveals its readiness to play the song
of the silent passing of time
the arrow’s path is already
written in the sky
a M b 3 R Feb 12
a lasting portrait that sways in your head
like the pendulum in a clock swinging every second
it was tormenting you
and— i lingered     still.
even though i’ve long left
it seems like my heart was still there
my mind trying to cut off strings of attachments
my heart clung onto

both of us saw each other at the corner of our eyes         again.
yet we look down and walk away
not even giving a smile but a “bye
you didn’t know your feelings
and up till now u still don’t
but i did.    
—from the very start i knew.
but yet knowing you, like i knew myself
i still expected a nicely wrapped gift
when u had let me down.

from another perspective/ replying to @childofgodyay (carelessly)
Dawnstar Oct 2018
When a fool loves a foreigner,
he loves her solely for herself and himself.
Maybe he savors her qualities --
her smile, her hair --
but he shares not her ambitions.
He shuns her friends;
he despises her father;
he is hated by her mother;
he is disgraced by her brother;
he loves not her god;
he speaks not her tongue.
Indeed, he enjoys this tree much,
but only for its fruit.

But you I love for all parts.
I make my desires accord with yours.
I accept your friends as my friends,
and count your family among my own.
Because I love you, I also love your culture.
I want to hear your lilting language,
and welcome its syllables into my heart,
and greet you each morning with new words.
Yes, even your god I love!
I love each root and fruit and stem of this tree:
your whole soul, and all its attachments....
...and that makes twice the fool of me!
Rhoni Marjonelle Jul 2018
He said she was "she"
He said he loves "she"
He said he adores "she"

She says he was "he"
She says she loves "he"
She says she adores "he"

But why does she says
and he said?
Is she really "she"
and he is really "he?"

She and he were bounded by a red string
She and he were fated with lingering
attachments to a "he" and "she"
really, they were meant to be

Bounded by fate and destiny
That...they can see
a knot of friendship
only "them" can unleash

Bounded by fate and destiny
not by love and intimacy
but by morale and respect,
and friendship so unwrecked
Krysel Anson Sep 2018
We create our own stories,
our own gods and reshape our own peoples
We also create our own demons and enemies.

An old retired fighter once said to a traveler,
"we learn not run from the enemy, but go towards them."
In learning, his new pupil destroyed his heart
and his lovers. And them, destroyed their own in turn.
The traveler sits with piles of stories of all kinds now,
from all over the world, in a library shelf
like a white elephant of impotent rage in his room.

For decades the populations of the world
have been subject of mass experimentation by its overseers.

In other stories, a people's Creator has gone mad
working for his human creations
which required using toxic chemicals to turn
their raw materials into life, while working to
reveal our own gift of growth from attachments
and into self-knowledge, compassion.

For decades also, populations of the world
are kept apart from their own full living potential
not because of some evil or mad Creator
or some insanely depicted required competition towards
reproduction or respect.

Rather, because we continue to face our tasks
through our mistakes and failures, knowing
our deadly blows from through those we reject,
shame and escape from, as our teachers of compassion
if not more than those that we gravitate to
or already belong and accept as our own.

Thus continues perhaps the stories of people's
potentials outside of their fear's many
perverted versions. #
Work in progress
Apollo Hayden Sep 2018
We're still drifting
Headed towards oblivion
Feeling the effects of our past regrets, but not saying nothing
Would love to start over again but its so hard to repair broken things
If we stare at it long enough maybe it'll fix itself magically
but we're in a space of darkness and silence, all it'll take is for someone to speak
and I have said all that I could, spoke so much that it got hard to breathe
So I'm suspended, floating, roaming 'round on my own and I feel you searching to find but there's nobody here with me
Just me, myself and I getting on with life, with a weak reception in telepathy
Traveling through the astral realm, I could've swore that was you in my dreams
Still, there was nothing but silence as I felt your thighs and hips as we made love so passionately
but even in the act I knew I'd have to wake up eventually
So we're still in this dark and silent ocean, wondering and assuming but not saying one thing...
I guess its what happens when you let go of attachments, and stop trying to control and just let the universe speak
And even though it's so silent, I can still hear because I feel everything
acacia Aug 9
[The Scene: She is sitting ahead of him in the dark with an amethyst hanging on a silver chain around her neck]

In the dark a loop siding from one end of the chain to the other
Eyes above the chain, pressed against, iris low in the eye, lids curtaining
Ineffable timbre-smoke plumes the atmos(tofall)sphere of us
The magnets drop
Amethyst colors the spaces between and outside of your eyes like a splash
Silver chain you're caught in, silver web I'm found in: you're the spider I'm eating
I pretend to follow you closely, though, you're following me, round in range into your crevices into the whites
We could find a well that'd be deep enough for our love, but you don't want me
We could lasso a meteor onto this Earth, crater a hole deep enough to fill with the bodies we'd(we've) ruin(ed) with our forces and heightened sense of being, but alas, you don't want me
At least, not in this form
For you have completed your karma, you've cut our attachments
Yet, I'm waiting for your return
Patiently waiting with the other Citta lost, wanting to return to their mothers
All I want is my mother: this is my karma, and this is my ball
This is my laundry to fold

[End scene: She gives him a kiss on the cheek and leaves him with the amethyst necklace]
Written in your perspective, this is how you view me
Written in his perspective, this is how he views her
Written in her perspective, this is how she views him
This is the real story
Aka legend Oct 2018
In my heart are chains and in my hands blood
Locked up in this crazy cycle I'm lost
Don't what I am anymore don't recognize my face
Scars run through my memories I can't wake up
It's killing me softly it destroying my thoughts
I can't think straight my mind is hazed
My insides are cut and my true colors are shown
All black with crimson lines it shows my future and past
I feel pressured with no pressure
I feel depressed with depression
I feel lost with a compass
I just wanna go away and disappear
Live my life with no attachments
Have the freedom I've always dreamed
Live alone with my thoughts and beliefs
No one to disturb and no one to upset
No judgement,  no screaming
No sound only silence to hear
At that time I'll look for love to heal the wounds
To take time and understand my struggle
Someone to go crazy with someone to cry with
Someone to laugh with and someone to love
Doing nothing but write and read
Flying through fantasy world
Flying through a world of dreams
Pry eat and love that's my dream
Alas it's only a dream
No knowing if it'll ever come true
there is attraction here
but i’m not sure what to do with it
shall i let it grow or just ignore it
what kind of world is this
with paradoxes everywhere
there are so many ways to justify your existence
who told you that you had to protect yourself from harm
ego and mind can never defeat the soul
and our eyes and hearts will never let go
of attachments and desires
how the samskaras echo and then unfold
just sit and breathe and it will shift
but only if you are willing to feel into all of it
where you are holding tension
is where you need attention the most
meditation is not meant to be a comfortable blanket
its a cold plunge designed to wake you up
sit up straight and let liberation dwell within you
the stars and the comets are in your heart tonight
so shift your attention and perspective
and elevate your inner directive
as filaments of the finest fibers
scintillate your mind and nervous system
the diamond light is already shining
i am wisdom personified
giver of judgement and the remover of blindness
as hunger and pain are all just names
for situations that remain the same
stammering forward she fell from the chair
and in the flash of a moment she was no longer there
I arise on a cloud of doubt
My thoughts lingered
Fighting demons of shame
actions of the past aren't forgotten.
buried  so deep like Thier nostrils are on fire
Rage is flowing fast and furious in their veins.
They have forgotten the art of compassion because they cannot forgive.
They seek emotional attachments
Move on from person to person.
The only bit of love they have left to give.
Has large hooks on them.
They like to flash the cash.
winning affections.
I refuse to be treated as a doormat.
I am not running.
I am a person in my own right.
I refuse to be abused.
You've avoided Me
your entire life.

You had a wife;
you have two daughters,
a house in a suburb,

a house of cards
you called home...

You were expert
in financial affairs;
you saved money well,
you networked well,
traveled once or twice a year,
doing that for years.
There was laughter and tears,
there was strife,
but like rainbow foam
you danced on the surface of life.

You had your attachments, desires,
your house, thinking they were home.

Maybe you felt afraid of Me
or were simply unaware of Me.
Maybe I seemed too subtle,
maybe I was no more to you
than some distant, icy abstraction,
just some tired philosophical theme.
Maybe I seemed too arduous a climb,
perhaps you felt I was too intense,
or that I was the foreigner, the alien...

Whatever it was - you didn't bother.
You tried to find shelter and joy
in shifting sands...

You had turned away
from the majesty
of your heart,
from your supreme intelligence...

From avoidance
                   or unawareness
                               distortion was born.
Through it I appeared

                                          as cancer
sarah ann May 30
last night we went to see the tour Eiffel at night. i sat a ways away in the grass with uncle chas, & he was saying how lucky i was to be having this experience when i was young. & how he could not believe that he was sitting there, in paris, looking at the Eiffel tower & it made me cry.
when we were walking along the seine, there was a boat that said, its sometimes said that the stars are the roses of the sky in french but in the gardens behind the Eiffel tower you could count the stars on a clear night with your hands. im on the train now, we just pulled out of the station & i miss my dad & my uncles very much, living in the same place my whole life I've gotten very awful at saying goodbye. am not used to people coming in & out of my life & am certainly not familiar with the feeling of leaving. when i look at my uncles, i see familiar & loved faces i have known all my life, but i was looking at them trying to picture them if they were unknown to me, & for the first time really saw how old they've gotten. i'm so scared. i'm crying on the train. i'm nervous about the first impression madame will have of me. my heart longs for my mom, i never realized how much work it is until taking care of you & my dad, how shes been doing this for years. we've just gotten outside of paris & are surrounded by green countryside, I've been looking at the picture you sent of hiking & know there wouldn't be anywhere i would be happier than in a forest in a hammock & in your arms. there are lots of opportunities for meditation in paris away from the pace of the city life but it is a little difficult to take advantage of them while traveling & passing through so quickly. traveling for school & softball are really the only time i get to spend with my family anymore, and how my dad acts & speaks i hardly recognize, as if I've been away a long time. we passed a couple times a café de luna <3 i miss my baby. havent seen her in person with doggy backpack </3 if i were tripping i would be a mess, i'm scared & nervous & sad. i picture you sitting next to me tired of my freaking out & making me pull myself together. i'm not a master of the spirit world, i have so many attachments & feel so deeply that impermanence & loss are wreaking havoc on my inner peace constantly. i feel like i have an old soul, & am from another time, where travel didn't exist & villages lived together. my mom was so happy here but she moved around constantly. she was definitely one of those people that could say her goodbye's & move forward with confidence. i'm certain i would not be able to pass the myth of the guy trying to save his love from hades. he turned back & that is why he lost her forever. i know in my heart this time away is something i need to learn and grow but it just feels the bitter is imbalanced with the sweet right now. i'm not ready to let go of my home, i wish my parents would take better care of themselves so they could be around longer. i'm going to get to angers looking like a wreck.
Wonder Berry Sep 23
I remember
great falls
Like the ones in Niagara
Great water rapids
Great falls
Like the ones in front of my address
Bruised knees on gravel and stone.
We fall
We fall
For the sake of the tragic
But one thing does so with no safety fabric
As the blossoms fall out of bloom,
we try to catch them all.
Running back and forth
for flower rescues of sorts.
I wonder why they do so let go?

I look up towards the fading green trees and shout, "Dont fall for the change stay just the same!"

But they fall even faster
They so with laughter
unto pavements of gravel and stone.
Away from home
Away from soft tones
As blossoms spring into fall and let go attachments.
They cheer
a new season.
As we set forth on travel and 'lones
We learn to welcome gravel and stone.
Today on this sunday I welcome great falls

Hear me say,
I know great falls.
Truly I know great falls.
Happy first day of fall
Tamara Lynn Mar 24
Proceed with kindness
When you find yourself alone
Dwelling in the abyss of your own mind
And you've hit the bottom
Feeling like you're at the end of the line

You may be wary since the unknown is scary
But just be aware
That if you dare discover deep from within
A love so kind and pure
There won't be anything you can't endure

The secret to it all is self love and care
By this I swear
Rather than relying on external validation
To fuel the unmet needs of your childlike tribulations
Let's let go of all attachments
To things that merely pose as distractions
And let it all just be

One with yourself and nobody else
Because eventually one day you'll see
That in the end
Only on yourself can you fully depend
With this advice I advise you to heed
Only with kindness should you carefully proceed
You're all that you need ♡
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