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Toxic yeti Mar 2019
As we wake up
I loving kiss your chakras
I kiss you on the crown
To your root chakra
I tease and pleasure you. You then do the exact same
Stopping at my mouth
Then continue with
The chakras
And kiss my womanhood
My root chakra.
I feel an intense pleasure
I live to feel.
samasati Nov 2012
I believe in smiling at strangers. I believe in saying hello. I believe in shyness. I believe in fear of rejection. I believe in the need of affection. I believe in the need of reminders. I believe in candles, especially those that smell of vanilla or christmas. I believe in wearing small crystals around my neck. I believe in energetic vibrations. I believe in colours - I think each person has their own colour. I believe every feeling is valid. I believe in chapstick and I believe in mascara that doesn’t clump. I believe in nail polish - every colour of nail polish. I believe that the only reason we lie is because we fear something. I believe in poetry. I believe in bluntness. I believe in the intention behind words, but I don’t necessarily believe in words. I believe in travel. I believe in travelling solo. In fact, I believe in travelling so much that it is pretty much all I want to do. I believe in music. Boy, do I believe in music. I believe any kind of musical composition can change a person. I believe music can cure depression. I also believe music can feed depression. I believe a melody can say more than lyrics and I believe that lyrics can be what someone couldn’t put together themselves to explain exactly how they are feeling. I believe anyone can create a song, even though they believe they cannot. I believe a single note can sound like the most beautiful sound in the world. I believe if someone records a song when they’re in an ugly mood, the ugliness emits to its listeners and can drain them. I believe in art. Of course I do. I believe in acrylic paint. I believe in oil paint and watercolours, but not as much as I believe in acrylic. I believe in fingerprinting. I even believe in painting with your toes. And I believe in dancing; even if it looks weird. I believe in flailing your arms even, as long as it feels good and right. I believe in dancing ‘til you sweat, though I don’t like that icky feeling too much. I believe that a babe can be a very ugly person and a physically unattractive person can be a very beautiful person. I believe that people who smile are beautiful. I believe that people who frown are beautiful too, just in a different way. I believe that there are sincere smiles and there are manipulative smiles. I believe that some people just know how to use their eyes well. I believe in eye contact. I believe in engaging. I believe in listening and dropping everything else that is going on in your mind just to listen to what a person is trying to share with you. I believe in sharing - sharing cookies and sharing love. I believe in the frosty cold. I believe that it doesn’t have to feel as cold as it really is. I believe that people complain a lot. I believe that people often have too much pride to be happy. I believe that we should embrace our discomforts and shames, that we should welcome them wholeheartedly so that we can be happy. I believe in honesty. I believe in empathy. I believe in tea. I believe in jelly donuts but only on certain occasions. I believe in quirky bow ties. I believe in knit toques and mittens and scarves. I believe in dresses. I believe in flirting. I believe in coffee in the morning. I believe in big comfy beds. I believe in walking around your empty house in your underwear or birthday suit, singing loudly. I believe in singing in the shower. I believe in singing on the street. I believe in stage fright. I believe in meditation, though I don’t really strictly set times to do it anymore. I believe mundane activities can be done in a meditative state of mind. I believe in clarity. I believe in not judging people because everyone is human. I believe every human has something very interesting about them. I believe in boring people too. I believe in christmas music - not the radio kind, the choral kind. I believe in cheap sweet wine. I believe in Billy Joel and I believe in The Beatles. I believe in Regina and Sufjan too. I believe that the ukulele is a very overrated instrument. I believe in having healthy hair. I believe in moisturizer. I believe in getting to pick a coloured toothbrush at the dentist. I believe in thick wool socks. I believe in baggy sweaters. I believe in yoga gear but I do not believe in sweatpants. I believe that yoga is one of the healthiest things for a person - ever. I believe in buying a friend drinks or dinner once in awhile. I believe in collecting shoes and scarves and rings. I believe in chords but I don’t really believe in jeans. I believe in hot chocolate with whip cream but not with marshmallows. I believe in dorky Christmas sweaters. I believe in baking cookies instead of cake. I believe in eating disorders - I do not support them, but I do believe they are much more severe and various than most people think and I believe there should be better/proper help for those who suffer instead of the usual cruel inpatient/outpatient care. I believe in trichotillomania and I believe in dermatillomania and the severity and impact it can have on its sufferers. I believe in gardens. I believe in every single flower. I believe that everyone is always doing their best. I believe that most people love to struggle. I believe in hope. I believe in having faith in yourself. I believe in iPod playlists. I believe in gym memberships in the winter, not the summer unless it’s to swim. I believe in matching underwear every day. I believe in Value Village. I believe in singing in bus shelters when you’re waiting for the bus. I believe in dressing up according to holidays. I believe in Grey’s Anatomy and I believe in Community. I believe in skirts and dresses that twirl like the ‘ol days. I believe in longboards more than skateboards. I believe in plaid like most young people do. I believe in bows in my hair, but not as much as I used to. I believe in foot massages and hand massages. I believe in reflexology and reiki and essential oils and chakras and crystals and holistic nutrition. I believe in anxiety; even crippling anxiety. I believe in awkward romances. I do not believe in flip flops. I do not believe in Beatles covers unless they are really insanely good; then my mind is blown. I believe in having long enough nails to scratch someone’s back appropriately. I also believe in biting nails. I do not believe in telephone calls unless I am extremely comfortable with the person. I believe in blogs. I believe in journals. I believe in naming special inanimate objects like journals, instruments, technology and furniture. I believe in the idea of cats more than I believe in cats. I believe in sharpies or thin pointed permanent markers. I believe in temporary tattoos. I believe in streaming movies online. I believe in royal gala apples. I believe in avocados. I believe in rice cakes. I believe in popcorn. I believe in airports but I hate the LA airport. I believe in openly talking about *** but I don’t believe in making it seem shameful and gross. I believe there should be no shame regarding sexuality. I believe in reading some great books more than once. I believe in laying on the couch under cozy blankets, watching a great suspenseful tv show or movie. I only believe in having a couple bites of cheesecake. I don’t really believe in lulu lemon. I don’t believe many people can pull off the colour yellow. I believe in buttons over zippers even though zippers are easier, they just look kind of dumb and cheap. I believe in the sun and the moon equally. I believe in closets over dressers. I believe in staring out the window for a good hour or so.
Seema Nov 2017
The sky split open
I'm ****** in a whirlpool
My body light as a feather
I am used as a tool
In another world or dimension
I not know the place
But it's too familiar
And I recognize that evil face
A demon of this world
A satanic being with filthy evil powers
Sapping my energy, draining
And this forces me to be awake for hours
Lying on my bed, praying hard
To prevail, evil forces from destroying my spirituality
Alas, I get pinned down most days
Like that of a nasty shaman practising ***** sexuality
Hitting on my chakras, stealing my energry
For somehow, I feel this person is attached to me
Please believe me, I am not insane
I feel his presence around me
And then I am left dealing with my pain
I am a spiritual person and used to feel my positive auras
Now that I am draining from my so called sickness
And feel my energy used by another for astral travel
A thief, in shadows, I can't even sketch coz of weakness
I wish to get well, I wish to live fully again
But seems, all my tries are going in vain
Hell, seems to be cracked open to let its beings out
To crawl and survive on the energies of high spirituals
Sometimes I wake up sweating with a shout
May be that's the time, this person performs the rituals
From another place unknown to me
Stealing from my meditation vault, my energies
And I am too blinded to believe and see
Coz I feel I'm in mercurial abyss, with some alienetic synergies...
Kim Johanna Baker, this poems is dedicated to you my dear poetess friend. May you get well soon :)
Dondaycee Oct 2018
I’m a new kid,
I have a new name.
A new game?
I’m; here…
Undisputed,
I can’t reMember My Old name-
-I’m… Here…

Why do adults live with separation?
I mean; people don’t communicate,
“Consuming assumptions so you can hate”,
But know it is only the variables that are even exchangeable when reaching solutions in mind,
Peep thee illusions of time,
If we live in the moments, it’s fine-
Until we come across a choice and we’re absent from our voice,
It’s the voices we’re fed that sides;
Uhh DECIIDE!,
(“be humble”)
There’s THREE TIMES,
(“sit down”)
Now breathe…
The dreams I’m having, reiterated “I” in past;
But yet, I’m here,
Right now, my last thought is the last, last,
Cause says be; clear,
On my intentions,
I want love and affection,
That’s why I put myself sec (secondary) and,
Call me Reese Bobby;
In a world of duality,
“If you ain’t first-”
-You’re definitely not second,

What is transgression?
-If we were made to be,
Why does the resurrection of thy self only exist in make belief?
How can I indulge and embrace realities that weren’t made for me?
Especially when I was giving my own, it seems foolish to trade my ability to see,

I experienced her;
It’s a blessing, how she’d hold me tight,
I experienced him,
I never questioned who he was, inside,
I never fight… unless it’s by side,
It is beside, I fought with them; I speak of internal conflict,
Control accomplished,
The ego beyond it; we realize it’s the experience that takes us to a place in time, I speak of a space in a line that curves on a geometric plane that consists of circles intertwined that is often perceived as the fabrics of the universe but to save us the stretch of time, we see that it is the experience that defines life,
So who am I?
That question’s redundant,
It is all that resides in me;
I.e. abundance,
It is because of everyone in my reality, that I was able to see the cohesion, and it is because of that reason that I experience oneness,
I’m simply done with,
Using other people’s beliefs to constitute how I interact,
Because their realities are incompatible with what I essentially, intend to attract,
Certain interactions can remain abstract,
I can no longer take opinions on thoughts, if I’m the only one experiencing thoughts;
Your imagination shouldn’t be programed to be comprehensive with the past- extract,
There’s no math in that,
You’re just rearranging the variables, there’s no flow towards the conclusion;
Perspectives placed in fact,
And although this realization can be an impact,
We’d only turn our focus into a debate on what you did lack rather than embracing the thoughts that occurred that would only exploit one thing,
The solutions to the equations that you did have,
As the creators of our realities,
If it is problematic, the writer of the problem encodes an Easter egg that exploits how it is; it was you who did it,
How can we enjoy new thoughts, if they are the old thoughts?
We revisit.
It’s impossible to allude in digits if it is one we elicit…

People love my personality; they obviously love themselves,
Seeing myself in them is why I became an advocate for the conscious body of thought...and it’s health,
I.e. I express our extrinsic abundance of wealth;
I’ll reiterate; I.a. free man,
That’s: free thought, free love, free plan,
I’ll obliterate the mean-in; AI by using IA,
U-no reverse cards was the cause of humans comprehending backwards my friend,
We live backwards because we look back first,
So I’m confused on the AI fuss,
If an Artificial Intelligence is constructed based off our current level of intelligence, and is only responsive to our negligence because of the installment of IA (information architecture), then there’s no possible way for this room to have an elephant being that an AI is just an extension of us,

Who do you love?
-Is it enough?
-curious in, experiencing experiences other than lust…

I’m hearing some things,
“Who do I touch?”
Rhetorical questions; my love is a gift which seeded from trust,
I’m not one of them, I’m one of us,
One of a kind yet mind; innumerous,

I was born and knew nothing,
Only sure of my existence,
I experienced life and only found myself,
Time is only distorted when mind is missing,
Be mindful of your thoughts, it is the structure of your personality,
We just went through seven chakras expressing rationality;
I think we all can agree that T-B.O.P’s in another dimension,
And all she wants is for us to merge into our bodies potential extension...
PHI
Derrick Jones Dec 2020
The spine
The antenna for the divine
A straight line
Define and refine the signals to and from the mind
Find the vibe that makes you come alive
Light the fire, the livewire, that you transmit ’til you expire

From root to crown
From up to down
This flow of energy
A life force
A coursing current
Sometimes a torrent
A constant stream that means so much
And it manifests through the sense of touch

Vibrations, reverberations
Localizing in our nervous congregations
Stemming from the spinal cord
These chakras strike a chord
Soul patches
Energy clusters that muster so much energy
And when in flow, they all shine with light
But when in doubt, tangled up
These tentacles of energy can glow too bright
When the flow’s not right
When the foe’s in sight
Fight or flight
In the world or in our mind
When we leave the flow behind
We weave a tangled thread
Which may focus in our head
Or our heart
In the root, the sacrum, the solar plexus
The throat, the crown, the third eye nexus
These energy centers out of whack when we aren’t centered
How do we get back from the twisted stream we’ve entered?

Remember
It is all sensation
Machinations in the mind cannot unwind
The neural fibers of our spine
A focal point for energy
A chakra
Resistance is a trap that keeps us coming back
Stuck in a whirlpool
That wants to flow free
But resistance blocks the stream
When there’s a disturbance in the force
Turmoil or avoidance that distorts
That chakra glows too bright
Instead of flow you start to fight
Your chest gets tight
Butterflies in the stomach
Something stuck in your throat
Remember
You can just float
You need no boat or moat or antidote
It’s all sensation, vibrations
Traveling up and down your spine
Manifesting in your mind
And in that flow there is a freedom
Sit up straight and breathe in deeper
Energy flowing freely
Resistance yields persistence
So give up the fight
Dissolve into light
Stop floundering in the whirlpool
You have found the portal
Let it **** you in
You’ll find an ocean deep within
Your mind will open
You can breathe the water
It was water all along
No longer drowning
You can just be
Resting in the deep
At peace with seven pieces of your body
Portals to the deep
Or whirlpools that will keep you stuck
You decide your own luck
Make them a locus of control
Let focus be your goal
Seven pieces finally whole
For more poetry and essays, follow my blog on Medium at https://medium.com/words-ideas-thoughts
Thanks for reading!
Toxic yeti Jan 2019
As we make love
And kiss
You quit kissing my mouth
And start to kiss all
Of my chakras
You finish by
My root chakra
My womanhood
As you make love to me
You worship me.
embedded in the most tenebrous corner of my mind,
harlequin memories of serendipity,
dripping like bittersweet wine,
tantalize me,
begriming what was once an unsoiled canvas.

engulfed in my despondency,
I repose homely
until my mind's taste-buds
savor the saccharine flavors
of its own derisive thoughts.

aroused to say the least,
my mind's libido is now being satisfied.
I lie here,
welcoming all that my thoughts and epiphanies have to offer.
I am unable to disclose what's bestowed to me
but that's irrelevant.

My mind is here...
and open
and anticipating
the pleasing rush
of these thoughts that venture through my head.

The pleasure is overwhelming,
forcing my chakras open
as my ajna awakens from its long slumber.

I crave this foreplay
and I plead with the universe
to make it never-ending
but it seems my cries fall upon deaf ears
and I'm left open-minded
and unfinished.
If you don't understand, you can ask me.
Wen Ao Long Nov 2014
Hello snorer, I hope you didn't sleep any poorer
when I stayed up all night typing this not-poem
I meant you no harm, but I had to stay up
Because I couldn't make music out of your obnoxiously loud cacophony of windpipe crap, er "music".  Time to not-pretend to absolutely hate your snoring under the guise of being perfectly okay with it for the sake of setting the tone a bit nicer to all who must hear it, so they can BEAR to, for otherwise it would be absurd.  Not as absurd as anyone hating to have aural drills applied to all their chakras all night, but still absurd enough to get a chuckle out of me (I hope it didn't wake your fine specimen here). It was never my intent, though it was always my ethical concern (if only everyone could be as reciprocal as you and I).   Oh, my not-pretend hatred is very thinly veiled.  I wasn't totally defeated by your snore-sound armies so that I couldn't type words, but I may have lost some of my desired effect due to the sometimes wincing distraction they caused to my piece of mind at this or that time when I needed it the most (even though I was awake, which is no crime if snoring at night and keeping me that way isn't).

Well, I did ask you if you'd mind if I typed,
I did tell you that you could tell me if its quiet purr of clicks would bother your precious sleep
But I never felt a need to be concerned, because whenever I
was typing, I heard you snore, and whenever I was in the heights of
some new discovery or epiphany, your sharp sudden thunderstroke of near death
corrugated metal vibrating in the torrent of some sudden gale force gust of wind.

These were signs to me of your restful sleep.  So I simply didn't worry about your sleep.  I was certain that my electronic beeps were every now and then music to your ears, just as they were to mine.  This is because in the midst of these I heard you snore, and when you snored, I took you to be asleep.

Ah but then again, then again, these are fanciful constructions which simply say that what is wonderful for me should be just fine and dandy with you, at a bare minimum, and on those grounds of very unsymmetrical attitude about right and wrong I would have to begin my music tirade of words as well.  But I don't view justice and propriety along such selfish lines as these.

What I see is that duplicity is your thesis.  I have anecdotal accounts which are marvelous to behold first hand, but the details of the absurdities cannot be done justice in the language of men, for the intensity of such insanity can only be borne lightly by the frailest frayed ends of my sanity for having lived through your acoustically maddening inanity.

You didn't ever admit to me that my noises were not music to YOUR ears.  Indeed  you claimed never to be bothered by them because you never voiced up against them.  I suppose you might as well voice up against them in the street as well if it turns out not all of you snorers-go-a-viking types like to hear my mouse clicking away like a tapping noises on a metal plate in your skull.  Sorry if it is another non-snorer-who-must-stay-up-late-and-so-be-occupied person whose nocturnal joys were misinterpreted as direct assaults on the dignity, spirit, or just basic mental viability of your wounded snoremonster troop of anti-late-stayer-uppers, because in fact, we used to be sleep-at-night-entities like you, but that was before you showed up, thoracic marching band in tow.  Marching bands are musical also, to some people.  And for some all hours of the night are perfect for a marching band.  Who am I to tell them otherwise.  

Well let me know the next time a marching band is given special permit to come through your neighborhood at night, and I'll be glad to point out to you the first Snorer'sville, because only they should be expected, in all justice to live with the macroscopic manifestation of their personal narcissistic paradises.

Let you all go to your own place and form your own nation, and see if you can consistently demand everyone else find music in your ****** and accursed racket!  But until then I expect some of you will have to take the damage returned by the growing number of people who are very much tired of living under the horrors of your infliction upon us, your demonic and evil tyranny of mind-crushing hate that is your ****** noise.  We will do yoga and breathe, and stretch, and some light calesthenics to relax and seek some focus and composure, whenever our spirits require, and this will be unchallenged by you so long as you are asleep, and it will be unchallenged by you so long as you are awake too.  For in the latter case you are already awake (and so still are we, usually) while in the former case it is far quieter than your snoring, both in its valleys and peaks.  And moreover it has not kept you up, but in fact I have noted that you wake yourself up with your own music when it reaches a certain crescendo.  

Unless you want to say that those crescendos are some sort of involuntary complaint about MY crescendos of spirit, when I start typing about 20% faster than normal, with perfect focus and accuracy while reaching an aesthetic pleasure approaching ****** as I realize that it is almost unerringly in the midst of such an experience that I hear your crescendo resound. And since it was no more intended to be a distraction for me, then surely my music must have also gone undetected by your ears, as well as your spirit. Or is it fairer to say it was the very cause of your crescendo, or at least its inspiration?

Therefore I needn't worry that it is I that is keeping you up, even if for only brief stints at a time, especially by comparison to my all-night vigils.  Not so, but it is you who are so enraptured by my occasional laughs or giggles as I edify my weary, sleep-deprived mind on some bit of morale boosting entertainment.  With headphones on of course.  It's also courteously plugged into the computer to prevent my favorite bit of Judas Priest from hurting your ear drums, or else overstimulating your music appreciation centers, which are verily attached to your ear-drums by a nerve bundle (and what nerve you all have there).  This means I've spared you too much distraction from any already-abundant music of the spheres effect you may be savoring which might have emanated from my bumbling around in the dark (to keep the lights out of course, after all people are sleeping).

Yes but that is a minority of you perhaps, who would lie about that and in fact who ought to say that our nocturnal emissions are not what you'd call restfully mind-relaxing crickets in the dead of night with an occasional hoot in the distance...  But they are a minority, the rest of you are so definitely in good faith.

But then why do I always run into those of your tribe who have strange and unethical habits, such as destroying others' lives by ruining their one perhaps most preciously personal and inalienable need second only to air and water, and that is sleep.  It is, in terms of acute necessity, in many ways more needed than food, though in the long term food catches up.  But food catches up only because not eating food is a  lot like not getting sleep, but just a lot more intense on the body when it drops to some critical point because we know from experience it is on raw nerves that we can go for a while in search of food, but if the food can't be found (perhaps because of our lack of sleep ruining our cognition in some way), then we will not eat, nor sleep, because we'll be dead.  

But either way, we'll be dead, for lack of sleep kills, both directly and indirectly, if suffered over a short time and/or in a diluted form over a long time.  That would be poetically commensurate to the sadistic similitude of the types of snoring sounds with the types of ways to die from being deprived of sleep according to two modes (acute and chronic), over many keys of incident, accident, lost opportunity and ill-stared fate, all of which can be mapped in some way back to that auditory persecution of our very souls of which your kind are in some swelling numbers quite proud.  Just think of all the car accidents, work accidents, altercations, fits of rage, inability to concentrate well or sometimes at all, and other life-damaging conditions of the mind, and also of the body, which accrue from lack of proper and healthy sleep at night!

Good thing for most of you though, right?  Because surely our music is also sweet, and I really hope I've inspired many to face this need for equality, and be on their guard against any unjust whining or groaning from those who seem in point of fact to value their sleep just a good deal more than they value anyone else's.  Not only because they really really love to get those zzz's but because they think that in the natural order of things, before people suddenly went mad and evil, people went to bed and slept well even partly BECAUSE of this brachio-esophageal orchestral lullaby.

But we'll be on our guard against those complaints, because we know you have plotted to take to the streets against us to defend your noisiness-all-night-every-night rights.  So we'll be on guard to defend ours, TO THE LAST FIBER OF OUR BEING.

Because you insufferable ******* are cruel, and cruelty no one should abide.  No one in my world, in my society of people, will be allowed to inflict cruelty on another person, nor be callously prejudicial in their own favor when injuries do occur because of their actions merely on the grounds that the damage it causes coincides with the fulfillment of a need on their own part, even while that fulfillment is of a need which is obstructed from satisfaction in the other part, and by THAT VERY SAME REASON, so that your sleep depends on keeping others awake.  UNLESS you can somehow con or coerce them into developing some form of Stockholm Syndrome and confuse the torment you inflict upon them with a sign of your love and wonderfulness to be around.

Yes, I know you hear me typing now, through your well-behaved proxy.  I feel it. If not he per se, then in a parallel universe not too far off, there's a version of him who does.  Perhaps not the one I know now, on day one of having moved into this room, but perhaps one represented in this universe by someone who has found himself in some sort of circumstances found later on during his stay, this mixed with the fact that familiarity breeds contempt... He'll start making some righteous demands of some kind, and I might not be in a such a good mood about that due to lack of proper sleep, and this will coincide with said contumacy against my own rights (such as to breathe, type, surf the net, or do other nocturnal things other than snoring which might keep others up).

As to that last point in parentheses, snoring is an activity which you perform in conjunction with your getting sleep, and it therefore means not well for your notion of fairness to say things as they are, and simply say the truth, which is that your getting sleep deprives others of theirs, but it can be logically deduced.

It can also be logically deduced that the don't give flying **** if you don't like the fact that we don't like your ear-**** night after night, which is a good name as any, but should perhaps at times be amended to body-demolishing soul-****** of a mortally sinful nature, and with an ethical incongruity to good character of a person to maintain it, all the more to sings its praises to us and call it "good poetry".
My tirade is intended to be expressive of a sincerely felt Truth, manifested in this which is only one of many forms, where things are never neutral, but divided neatly and perfectly into either Good or evil, so that no thought, word, or deed can be trivialized as mundane, neither in its innate import nor in its exported impact for others.  This is of the essence of ethics and has many metaphysical groundings which can be rationally demonstrated, but only to rational people.
Ket Tehuti May 2015
Your Endocrine System plays
a major role in this day and time because these
Glands are your Energy transformers knows as the
“Seats of Light” also known to our Ancient African
Egyptian Ancestors as “Arushaat” and well known
today as Chakras. These Glands or Chakras known as
“Energy Seats” or “Wheels of Life”, is one of the
major ways this “BLACK LIGHT ENERGY” enters your
Body and then transduces this Light frequency and
vibration throughout your Whole Body System.
softcomponent May 2014
Betwixt of any sense beyond experiment, I sat on the bed between shifts and out-whipped the bag of Concerta given to me by Matt, o'timey hard-worker-soft-souled Matt, who felt, perhaps, that I had a legitimate reason to explore this legal avenue of pharmaceutical mind-manipulation for reasons he would rather fathom in retrospect. I popped a single pill, and voilà, the legal-cocainnabinoid began to flow between my red and white blood-cells playing cops and robbers.

It is when I feel nostalgic that I feel the need to write. I remembered, at work, with all those strange everyone-elses faces gliding past (and myself annoyed at the general lack of positive reception "Hello there!" "h .. i ." is one sour-looking businessmans sultry whispered reply.. once, a woman told me 'look, I know that you are told to say hello at the door to everyone who enters, but I don't like it. I just want to shop in peace, and no, I don't need any help' and without case to what my managers could say, I somewhat-hissed-back, "if you don't want to be greeted, then perhaps you shouldn't walk into big private corporate establishments to find the books you're looking for," and she shrugged and muttered some ****-talk under her breath and glided upstairs to find a copy of Ayn Rand's Fountainhead or Machiavelli's The Prince to validate her bitter attitude, I bet, the sour witch), my time spent living in that backwater Esso suburb of Port Coquitlam back in 2011 when Occupy Wall Street was still a hungry potential, not yet bogged down in procrastinates over herbal teas and talk of chakras and enlightenment and how the typical Wall Street businessman probably never had a real ****** and hence had never truly satisfied the energies now burnt-to-crisps inside his Root Chakra or whathaveyou, where I believed I would find a better, more interesting world further from the musty-smallness of forest-drenched rain-drenched Powell River, only to discover I may be right outside my front door, but that's EXACTLY where I was, no further than right outside my front door.. I mean, for Goddaskes, I was born in Vancouver, this isn't a culturally-shocking move to New Delhi or Kathmandu--- and so on and so forth is how I once berated myself thru constant cycling thoughts of no-escape, I, a little walking hell of devils-advice and panic disorder-- the Great Big Port City of George Vancouver only succeeding in further overwhelming my already delicate attempt at false optimism thru self-voided Buddhist smalltalk as I travelled from bookstore to bookstore reading Alan Watts in shady attempts to save-myself but only digging my walking grave even deeper into the soil of feared-insanity.

Port Coquitlam itself was a small-town wearing a business suit and holding hands with an angry father forcing him to college for computer networking as it's the most economically viable market at hand.. at first, I did not see this. I saw my idolized imaginings of Vancouver (never Port Coquitlam), the shining water-reflected skyline of my past and present legacies, where my father once snorted ******* with a bohemian group of someones, and my mother tried LSD just to prove to her friends how bad it was (and lo and behold, what a terrible time she had!), all this Otherness, Strangeness, yet still Connected-- an Otherness with which I was taken, left to whisper into empty Campbell's cans so-as to speak with the city from a distance, two children growing older together 'til my inevitable return and our agreement to share costs on rent.

I returned, as planned. I returned, and found that old-best-friend hating the Homeless and loving the Rich-- spending time with the Peppy Plutocracy whilst enslaving the Middle Classes (first Letter Capitals to Assist YOU in Grasping my Anger with All Five Thumbs) and the horrors I saw in my already delicate state, all the starving addictives slouching-inching down the sides of ***** old walls, the only thing missing a smear of blood to follow their corpseish collapse, all just footnotes to history, footnotes to wealth and progress-reality, all footnotes with no shoes O my God O my Goodness and O Canada, Our Home and Native Land!

It hurt like it did, but I felt powerless and gaited. Felt like it were just as well me (*** it just as well is), I, in Vancouver.. *Great Big Port City of George Vancouver
.. saw the end-stretching-cold-legs of Nietzsche's Dead God.. those in cutthroat-black-suits armed with calculators and wives could afford private jets and yearly trips 'round our globular strangeness whilst others had to beg and berate and debate and break-down to get a crummy old bagel and a past-due mostly-empty jug of old milk and perhaps a 'side of fries with that order.'

What crushed me so much about this playing a Witness to God's Death (or, not so much a 'witness' as a relative asked to the morgue to identify the body) was my intuitive grasp that this is the poverty of the First World.. this is not as bad as it gets and on a scale of 1 to 10 this would only be a 3.. all the poor and displaced of Eastern Europe.. Moldovan families indifferent to the whims and what's taken.. someone called me a Socialist and said I would later grow out of it as 'reality' angled its rearing-ugly head to chop me smithereens like it did so mercilessly to the Poor and Irrelevant.. I looked at them and still look at people like them and think 'that is evil unsure of itself.. that is evil unaware... that is evil and evil is  evil to watch..' the Evil Act being the use of Money to purchase the world, demanding us all to pay royalties (mass royalties) for the privilege of life so afforded by them.. (the Sons and Daughters of God first stabbing their father then stabbing themselves then locking away and ignoring their young brother with cerebral palsy '*** he could never be armed with a calculator, nor wife)..

I learned, thru practice, to cope with these evils as laws-for-now. Coping did not mean tolerance, nor did coping mean agreement.. I had charged at life expecting hugs and bottles.. what I got was hugs and bottles.. all while I watched over the shoulder of whoever embraced me and saw young-others doing the same, where are the hugs and bottles..? they sank into the nether as the crowd ebbed past, ignoring the cries of pleading love, pleading love over time so traumatised as to distort this love (so inherent and implied in the Heart) into confusion, confusion into loss, and loss into hatred.. as the crowd ebbed past, the crowd ebbed past..

After 3 and a half months, I moved back home to Powell River.. the soggy ol' calm of what I already knew.. the warm arms of the rest, the warm arms of water-reflected sunsets.. and I got my hugs and bottles.

but was this really a happy ending?
J Super Star Feb 2013
My throat’s all scratched from this screaming I’ve done
My diaphragm is all rubbery from these animal calls
But I carry on until you answer my distresses

O Captain, o Captain! Take me away from these generic hoes
I’m too swag for this ghetto
These ******* be hatin’ but you were always mine for the takin’

So take me now—like I did you…
Please. We’re friends. We’ve partied together and cried together.
I even bought you taco bell.

Take me away on your disco stick because
This club can’t handle me and my electric *** pants

What good is your love when just our chakras touch…
I need your grasp, I need your smell…and your ****, dramatic stare

Captain, my Captain, you may not be fly like Kanye
And I may not be glam like Beyoncé,
But this club can’t handle us right now
lol, don't take this seriously, i'm not a poet...yet
Thia Jones May 2015
I want perfection
I want that moment where our eyes meet
and neither of us can break the gaze
where our souls open to one another
like buds thirsting for the rain
where I see eternity, endless infinity
expand and share their secrets
from within you and know in that instant
that you see the same in me
I want that perfection of recognition

I want perfection
I want a shared empathy
an effortless telepathic connection
to feel that golden thread that links
all my chakras with all yours
I want to wake thinking of you
to drift into sleep doing the same
to know this is true for you too
and to meet even in our dreams
I want that perfection of synchronicity

I want perfection
I want to explore your body
to marvel at its complete perfection
even though you believe it imperfect
I want you to marvel too
at the perfection you see in this body
although I know it to be far short
I want to be consumed in mutual lust
to burn with your tastes sounds and smells
subsuming our senses into one another
I want that perfection of sensation

I want perfection
I want to run and work and sweat with you
to experience the joys of music, of performance
to travel with you to places of wonder
to inspire your creativity
to be inspired by you in every way
to reach new heights as yet undreamed
to remain forever grateful
for the gifts of your love
I want that perfection of complementarity

Cynthia Pauline Jones 4th May 2015
I have still to meet this person. There was someone who ticked some of the boxes and who for a time it seemed might complete the set, yet drew back. So I continue to search.
Julia Jan 2018
His strong arms
hold me close and tight
keeping me warm.

His strong arms
are raised up to fight
those wishing harm.

His strong arms
lift me high like I'm
a jar full of air.

His tender fingers
twist the tendrils in
my naked hair.

His face, his feet, his chest, his gut inside it
are Chakras he never hided
when we both decided

...to show each other
let go of our pasts
to grow in each other.

We each have the strengths the other lacks,
but how can we make space living on each other's backs?

His strong arms
tend me like
a living room.

His strong arm
sows seeds in
my bleeding womb.

His arms stronger than any enemy's of mine
cannot fight what they cannot find.

Demons he cannot see he cannot face,
so they will take me away from him without a trace.
Shoutout to my demon demolishing hunk of a future husband
Matter is a conduit for Consciousness;
Your Body is a Prism for your Self.
Chakras are sub-prisms
each tuned to a specific vibration
a specific state of being
a specific aspect
of your specific being
tread Sep 2012
The salted air elates a feeling of real real.
And by real real, I mean the realist real there is. 

Child like intuition and loss in present ecstasy
Underlying a layered and angsted mind.

I loved a psychopath as a best friend
But finally 
His confusion clawed at my chakras with convoluted and displaced passion 
But on Protection Island 
I feel
Protected.

Whether the next sunrise meets me through the dingy drapes of a budget hostel, awash in a strange and urban melancholy wrapped warmly on all sides
Or on a windy beach with the blue flow of sparkled wash and distant cloud capped peaks and Dover-beacon ferries which remind me of novelty globes and my father
The buzz of early morning travel as a child

I will be fine.

To lighten my load I hid The Dhamapada and St. Francis of Assisi in the hopes and faith that they would be left in peace blanketed in underbrush 
Being peacefully caressed by ocean wind and the beautifully dilapidated wood-house 
The protectors warm grin of welcome.

I want to feel okay again
And I feel like okay is finally waking up from her peaceful slumber 
Returning from vacation to remind and comfort my unassured and pummeled mind
Like a lover returning from a followed dream

A long, warm embrace which says it all
No words for I love you
Just a feeling and oneness as old as the world itself.
Ders Jul 2018
What is artistic expression how do put my soul on a page
How do I stroke my aura’s color if I can’t see it  
How do paint my humor and intentions
How do I draw my unbalanced chakras back to balanced and write the energies surging through channels
How do I chalk out my thought process when I am reminded of you

Walkie talkies hidden ontop my chalkie chakra blocked like telephone lines hit by drunk drivers or blackouts during storms
Sunshine burning mustard seething weekend breeding burnouts coming out of retirement like

My soul color bleeding rainbows with big blocks of grey in between Needing the contrast Needing the depth and blurred complications the world is not black and white we all bleed the same rainbow sparks into the same riverbeds breathing and exhaling with the time ticks of our existence of light reflected on the glitter trickled surface of the vibrations of our soul speaks ricocheting through galaxies for eternity.

Can’t phrase anything right
In come spiraling thoughts stories of me stories of we can’t help but trip I fall into thee mother Luna romanticizing the waves of the sea you rub my jaw with your hipster b

Crown king we’re being free
We’re trying queen
Forgot the beauty in the cold
Blackened hearts should walk boldly
Frozen on mountaintops trying to keep our souls warm
Broken and torn plastic bag in the wind escaping entities that block their flow

Exhausted on faking
Keep breaking from trying to make it
Ain’t no fun to be around
I keep all my words in my mouth
The devils got my tongue
I’m feeling numb
All my existence is to ***
I can’t get up out of the ******* ground
Years go by
I’m not feeling myself
Tears come out of me like a leaking spout
No drugs can bother me
My head belongs in the clouds
You comfort me, my cover my blanket
Shocking how our electric bodies met
Interesting how I took you travelling
Overwhelming how you became a sheath of warmth
an epitome of hope

It is a mystery how people combine
Whether it is a case of conflicting individuals
Or the mere phenomenon of how souls pair
I need you before I meet you
I miss you and yet I forget you
Once with you I know I have what I've been looking for

My portal to higher worlds
My partner in creating new energies
It is in making love with me
How the physical eyes close and the ethereal open
Your etheric body glistening as mine charges yours
Joining the divine in creation, where those watching - entertained -
whisper words of motivation
In this centered point of fusion, lust is an illusion
Our vibration high and muse sinking as voice does sigh
Some advanced life-forms jealous and aroused
attempting to possess your body to have a piece of me
The low beings trying to possess me to evil bring

Drenched in sweat but not too wet you bring me closer our bodies frisson set
We dive into wormholes and white holes
The doors of the universe if not windows
Playing hide and seek, hearing vortex points beep
We make fire and plasma lights up
The liquids surrender to heat and speed
a connective energy created
and ******* juices exerted

This would be the end but the physical must be converted
We take a breath and sparks fly passing through the foggy smoke in the air
love is in the air and our chakras dance to rhythm adore
trust then flows and insecurity -jealous- abhors

We then talk about the nothings to avoid this wonderful something
Learning about each other we do not wish to lose one another
The Venusian Tesla would be proud of how we've done electricity justice
This science, this drug, this philosophy, this state
Time has nothing on us we cannot be late
In our future we were dreaming of our past to remember the present
so to figure out how time went

These tongues and curls I speak have me bent
Admiring the cosmic accents
Acknowleding the galactic language
Now I know what the words, "I Love You" mean
for it isn't only a noun or common thing
But a lifestyle in astral streams
A pronoun when brought to the matter world
A verb lived like a movie
A story I will never forget.
Michael Hoffman Jan 2012
Hildegard of Bingen
the most musical abbess
of the year 1097 a.d.
met with Jung the unconscious detective
and Ginsberg the howling poet
for lattes at some Starbucks
in a vibrating city
on a shimmering afternoon.

Angelic minuets keep flowing,
effervescing through my chakras
like tonal champagne . . .
the glowing femme declared.
Beams of ethereal light infuse me,
tsumanis of energy tempt me
to dance right out of my habit.

Ignoring the possibility
of seeing a naked nun drink coffee in public,
Alan mused behind his hornrims . . .
I get what you mean
like I have felt the same perfusion of joy
watching cans of peas and ayahuasca
dance with talking bananas
at the A&P; Market near my pad in Brooklyn,
can you dig it?

Still suffering from his Freudian hangover,
Carl reframed them both . . .
Any conclusions or convictions
drawn from such experiences
may not self-verify because
your introspective identifications
attempt in vain
to concretize the amorphicity
of decentralized psychic sensations
which reach conscious awareness
only at the expense of extension.

What did he just say?
Hildegard asked Alan.
I have absolutely no idea,
the portly poet answered
as he doodled an intricate mandala
on his hemp napkin.
Radhika Ghimire Dec 2020
I am sending a parcel on its wings,
Be careful when you open it.
It has full of beautiful things inside,  
108 of waves, you are searching for.
The true colours you love, wrapped up in a blissful layer by layer,  our doorway to knowledge path,
Expounding the absolute power,
As committed and receptive naturally.

The parcel I am sending you, to say how much I miss you.
Holding the heart- " the mystical heart",
Where you always remain, beautifully inside it.

I am sending a parcel on its wings,
Be careful when you open it.
The remaining just flower for you, the way the potters wheel is,
Opens up various levels of perception,  
Everytimes puts out, when it silence, gets hurts.
I am trying to be flower for you to your potential,  external  and largely fortunately internal.

I am sending a parcel  on its wings,   be careful when you open it.
Better to maintain conducive atmosphere
Is called KAVACH, create a cocoon energy inside,
That simply transmit that you wish.

The parcel , it has , things inside,  full of beautiness
That you had initiated into meditativeness,  
generating receptivity , you transmitted into me,
In a short time,
as a doorway to knowledge.

I am sending a parcel on its wings,
Trying to  praise your emotional integrity,
Whatever i send, be careful when you open it.
The beautiful things inside it,  The thought
Quiet powerful transforms spiritual process.
Starting the aware of kundalini with the help of ganapati.

I am sending a parcel on its red wings.
Grounded bases of balance emotional issues.
For reduction of anxiety to energize your powerful spirituality.
With another parts of parcel  on its orange wings.
Which help you to open up for the feeling of
Maintaining harmoneous relationship together.
Because of human beings being empowered with this.

To promote your beautifully things,  self confedence and
To be continued effective manner in which you are travelling miles and miles,
See in this parcel.

I am sending a power with  its yellow wings,
Be careful when you open it.

It has full of beautiful heart , the mystical heart..
On its green wings
Having full of love , kindness,  experiencing compassion which you opened a balance of sympathetic love.
During our conversations.

I am sending a parcel on its blue wings .
When you open it carefully,  you will find positivity,
Singing a song that you most love.
It has also contain a indigo one called 3rd eye
Helps you to visualize inside
And connected the way the path of spiritual heaven.

I am sending a parcel on its violet wings
The crown you will find,
When you open it carefully.
Enjoying with spiritual connections.
Creation of emotion, bonding meditative path.
Melt completely wisdom.
Leaving probably me alone
In the world a path spiritual
Where we will be reunions
Our soul again and again.
Meaningful parcel
IncholPoem Jan 2019
Bake  your  legs
on  fire
on  street.

The  strays  may
not  bark  !


Bake  your  brain-ideas
with  newspaper's
'buzzword'.

the  morning  
may  not  bark
you!



Bake  your
back  pain
towards  the
finishing  fire.

THE SIX  CHAKRAS
MAY  NOT
BARK  YOU   !
ConnectHook Sep 2015
तत् त्वम् असि

for sitar, mridangam, vina, musical spoons,
washboard, Jew’s harp and banjo


(the names Swami and Guru-ji can be replaced by
any other mystic names the reader wishes to substitute
)

Swami and Guru-ji went to the river
to wash their souls in the ***** water
filled brass pots while they were at it, singing:

“These are Gods –
worship them, worship them,
these are Gods –
won’t you worship them please”

Guru and Swami-ji flexed contortions
twisted minds and limbs in knots
sold each other secret mantras
to erase akashic records when the body rots

Swami and Guru-ji taught disciples
how to fast and hum and chant;
bound their ***** with priestly garments, saying

“These are Gods – worship them, worship them,
these are Gods – won’t you worship them please”

Guru and Swami-ji swallowed prana
purged their guts, then farted light
launched their chakras into oneness
in the ida and pingala of their third-eye sight

Swami and Guru-ji built a temple
around a monstrous calf of gold
bowed before the six-armed idols chanting

“These are Gods –
worship them, worship them,
these are Gods –
won’t you worship them please”

Guru and Swami-ji studied parchments
by the dim light of a feeble ray
railed and wailed at the sinful  heathen
in the filthy Kali-yuga of the dying day

Swami and Guru-ji made ablutions
offered incense and holy foods
ate their share and smoked the profit, humming

“These are Gods – worship them, worship them,
these are Gods – won’t you worship them please”

Guru and Swami’s blissed devotions
entwined their members with the temple belles;
stuck their yonis up their lingams
in the twenty-seventh circle of the seven hells.

Swami and Guru-ji offered puja
wrote it all off as a karmic debt –
forced a shudra to bear the burden, screaming

“These are Gods –
worship them, worship them,
these are Gods –
won’t you worship them please”

Guru and Swami-ji meditated:
pure omniscience in eternal now –
drank fresh ***** from a heifer’s  bladder
for they knew that it was soma from a holy cow.

Swami and the Guru merged with Brahman –
then went home to the wife and kids.
Told the servants to polish statues, saying

“These are Gods – worship them, worship them,
these are Gods – won’t you worship them please”


THE MORAL:
(slower solemn rhythm, no banjo or Jew’s harp)

Aaron’s calf is ground to powder,
cast upon the Ganges’ tide.
Every tribe shall taste its poison.

“This is God –worship Him, worship Him –
this is God – let us worship Him now…”
attain instant enlightenment:
Jordan Aug 2013
Your voice is like a shower to my chakras, your energy like a baptism.
Arizona Indigo Jan 2013
Will it be that phantom lovers

Illustrate kisses of moon flowers

Within Its dreams and send it

upon your woozy current of sleep?

How they press upon your pillows

for souls to speak a fragrance ever so sacred

Never for a soul to keep.

So shall it be with a moment

when you draw in its scent

Will the summoning of you fall echoing

in every depth of your endless compass,

Indulged in content

Reaching you to the shadows of  the naked trees

Where the bats come to greet

thrown into the swelling of the seas- surging

And thronging of the white blooded elite

amidst the women, who are oh so petite.

I realize

I am in my dream.

Walking abundantly in my spiked sheath

Matching the flickering of the suns wreath

Offering the sacrifice of my fanged teeth

To halo the acres of sunflowers

That beam from your face.

Only true mother nature can tremble a thousand souls of envy

by the extol that is not from her grace

In that case

**** all that is true

Send it to the dreams of hell

in a black box adorned with fine lace

With kind words of thank and you.

I stay green all through my rind

I tell myself, don’t follow the blind

I tell myself don’t act unkind

I tell myself don’t abide combined

Speaking malign

Whispers now become wails preaching

Be in the right state of mind!— Peace of mind.!

Abandon the unrefined!

Remind that we are all mankind

!that we have been assigned

to stay on the grind!

And meanwhile find

The shadow we leave behind!

And finally answer

why do we comply to a life so confined!

And all in all

I am still asleep

Concocted  in a libertarian dimension so passionately deep

Driving my souls energy to rejuvenating madness it weeps

Emptying clouds carrying legions upon

legions of breathing ancient seas.

Reducing utopia, exiting the scenes.

Now choked door and blackness

Weightless amongst the scanning of chakras

Here iam

Dragging of feet through meadows of red

Could it be that I have awakened in the land

of the dying and dead?

Where the blood paints the sky an awful shade of red

And no specific cry will you hear

But a simultaneous screech cementing your ears.

It is not my feet that I lug

But my ****** knees that on its own dug

A grave ever so snug

That when it hugs

Ribcages become holding hands

While flesh is the feast to underground larva lands.

Like the beggar with hands who wishes for hands of alms.

Like the reader of fortunes with no voluntary palms.

As it is like a land force-fed with war and never ending bombs

These are sights that awaken me with qualms.

-Arizona
This poem is distinctly about when one is about to sleep and sees nothing but nonsense and then finally falls asleep and then shifts from dream to dream or as i would like to call it, dimension to dimension.
The Universe is our Kamasutra
constellations, red tailed comets
brilliant devas, divine horsemen
prance through the galactic playground
everywhere and in everything
our eyes behold a starry courtship

Romance impregnates the very air
we breathe

billowy breezes caress our bodies
and the sun does not hesitate
to shower us with burning kisses
mysterious lady of the coven night
cools the passions of the day
with dreamy moonlight and
soft melody

Innocent, pristine
we experience, explore and
enjoy the sacred foreplay
blooming in the garden
of our chakras

So vastly turned on
feeling  high
expansive
all inclusive

How can we contain the
bliss that courses
through every particle
and atom towards its
ultimate collective
consummation

Lord Shiva and Goddess Parvati
locked forever in the throes of Love
“Spirit and Nature dancing together”
George Krokos Feb 2013
A brief statement about certain controversial questions and issues relating to some core religious topics such as:
What is God?
Where is God?
Who Is God?
and a new or old philosophy and perspective (depending on the readers views) offering an explanation to these age old questions.

Prelude:
The proof of That which is not restricted to any construct of the human mind and is beyond imagination is Divine. This is sometimes revealed to a select few in the form of a revelation or philosophy from time to time and is what history calls religion and is also uplifting and blissful.
The ordinary human mind and intellect cannot comprehend or fathom that which is beyond it but only staggers at the attempt, bewildering as it is to the ego which is the seat of the mind and limited individual personality. (See Note #1)

Standpoint 1
It is generally stated that neither the existence nor the non-existence of God can be proven. But if there is absolutely nothing or everything is somehow taken away, then whatever is left or there is that remains can only be the place, source or state from which everything is brought into existence and sustained for a while within its own infinite being and by its own infinite or unlimited latent capacity of power, knowledge and blissful freedom of imagination and creation.

Standpoint 2
The state of absolute nothing (colorless, formless, odorless, indivisible, unfathomable), if there ever was such a state, would then be the complete and infinite unmanifest state or prior condition of this Boundless and Eternal Being or God from where all the universe, as we have come to know and see to date, has come and in which it still must exist without any exception regardless of what there appears now to be.

Standpoint 3
All the planets, moons, suns, stars, galaxies, nebulae and whatever else there may be are nothing other than, relatively speaking, like the atoms, molecules, compounds, cells etc that go to make up the body of a living physical entity, and in this specific and particular case, the manifest cosmic being known as or called the universe, and the so called black holes would then be found to be the arterial pathways of the energy or substance known as dark energy and matter which is of a non atomic nature (See Note #2). It should also be noted that the simplest and first atom or atomic substance or element is hydrogen, which is made up of just an electron and a proton, and is the most abundant atomic substance in the universe. In other words from the one formless substance of dark energy and matter come hydrogen, helium, lithium, etc (in the order of the atomic scale), from the simplest and lightest to the most complicated, densest and heaviest.

Standpoint 4
This then is the reason why we should consider the infinitely large of the outer universe with all the cosmic forces and objects known and unknown on the one hand, while its opposite, the infinitely small, being that of the inner universe, in the form of man’s mind and emotions together with the sub and atomic forces on the other, both co-existing at the same time without an apparent beginning or end, that make up the whole visible and invisible creation which is seemingly expanding, until the endless end, in something greater than itself, for how else could this ever be? (See Note #4)

Standpoint 5
The preceeding points help to validate the statements in the scriptures which say “as above so below” and that “we are made in the image and likeness of God” (ie: our soul or spirit within), and an aspect of Einstein’s theory of Relativity that mentions or postulates of ‘the curvature of space’ and certain aspects of Quantum Physics. The preceeding points also bring together both views of the so called ‘Big Bang’ and ‘Steady State’ theories that have gained popularity in modern times and where the former seems to be the more widely accepted view.

Standpoint 6
The five so called elements of Earth, Water, Fire, Air and Ether mentioned in certain philosophical texts and which correlate to the five lower energy centers (or Chakras) of the human body are complemented by two higher ones being those of Light and Sound of the two higher centers. This also explains the scripture where it is written “in the beginning was the Word and the Word was with God and the Word was God” and where “God said let there be light and there was light” (See Note #3) which indicates that from the ‘Word of God’ or primeval sound came light, then ether, air, fire, water and earth in a descending order. The last five mentioned elements deal specifically with life and conditions on our own world and also other worlds where one, some or all of the seven kingdoms of evolution are to be found in various stages of development. (See Note #5)

Standpoint 7
If man is made in the image and likeness of God then whatever can be seen outside can also be seen inside in the sense that there is nothing but God that really exists and that the essence of God is in man's soul and spirit. An analogy of this would be to look at a drop of an infinite ocean (without boundaries or divsions) and to recognize or realise that the drop of the ocean is nothing other than the ocean itself which may apparently seem to be separate or limited due to a bubble of ignorance and limited perception (the effect of duality or God's Cosmic Illusion or Maya). The illusion of duality becomes less apparent and is indeed negligible to the point of non existence as man evolves spiritually and realises his oneness with the essence or real part of his inner being which is non other than a drop in (not separate from) this indivisible infinite ocean of God. When this 'essence' is made the focus of an individual's consciousness and is continually invoked upon by various means it then becomes activated or awakened, so to speak, from a dormant latent state, to one of a highly charged and source seeking intelligent energy that is returning back to its real home or state from the lowest center of consciousness (gross, dense and material) in the human body to the highest centers being those in the higher parts of the body which are of a much finer or subtle consciousness and associated with light and sound (i.e. the primeval sound and light of creation) which come from God or the state of infinite consciousness.  This is also the state of Absolute Nothing mentioned in Standpoint 2 above from where Absolutely Everything has come from or manifested within its own Being and the Infinite Existence (all that exists does so within God) due to the infinite latent capacity of power, knowledge and blissful freedom of imagination and creation (Standpoint 1).  
-----------------------------------------------------------­---------------------------------
Notes:
(#1) See also my other prose titled "God is the Highest Good".
(#2) The universe is the infinite creature or creation of God. It resembles more or less the atomic structure of a living infinite organic entity and is the physical manifestation of an Eternal Un-manifest and Unfathomable Divine  Existence or Boundless Being which is the Only Reality or God.
(#3) See The Old and New Testaments of The Holy Bible.
(#4) We use a telescope to see into the body of the universe being incredibly large and use a microscope to see things or signs of life that are incredibly small.
(#5) The Seven kingdoms Of Evolution are: 1. Gaseous forms including stars, suns, planets etc, stone and metal. 2. Vegetable forms 3. Worm forms including all insects and reptiles 4. Fish forms 5. Bird Forms 6. Animal forms 7. Human forms.
________________
This is my contribution to the world of philosophy and to those who are curious about the nature of religion. Written in 2010. I will welcome any commentary or feedback on this whether it be good or otherwise.
Ella Alvarez Jun 2017
they say
to love
would be
an illogical
pursuit,

but loving
you, my dear,
is the most
logical thing
i'd ever do.

-e.a.
sobroquet Apr 2013
She'll sleep tight in a parallel universe tonight
my deeply serious rainbow girl astral projects
communes with Shiva and champions chakras
she has the recipe for what passes as illumined
her ignorance of current events is  appalling
but that chosen ignorance is staid and unperturbed

I grumble and complain, I use the news like a ******
I put the pieces together, pattern the puzzle-
I see the BIG picture…I cut my life short
possessing a keen memory is like the proverbial millstone
the information is  the lake
rainbow girl is contemptuous of my self inflicted plight

we realize its a matter of time before disparate likes divide
I am fire and she is water, I the destroyer, she the preserver
the passion can be complimentary for just so long
Like the lady bard said:

You read those books where luxury
Comes as a guest to take a slave
Books where artists in noble poverty
Go like virgins to the grave  (Joni)


She'll tolerate my  confabulated artistry a spell
I can see she's a caterwauling  banshee of protestation in the waiting
Her mellifluous  quietude, equanimity  and perfect  poise can only last so long
Before my brash stripped down vituperative  diatribe is as acid in the eyes
Then be off to resume  her prior harmonic convergence of  heart  stuff
as I  with my artistic bent, abbreviate my life

*http://jonimitchell.com/music/song.cfm?id=38  The Boho Dance
The Greatest in the Kingdom
(Mark 9:33-37; Luke 9:46-50)

At the same time came the disciples unto Jesus, saying, Who is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven? And Jesus called a little child unto him, and set him in the midst of them, And said, Verily I say unto you, Except ye be converted, and become as little children, ye shall not enter into the kingdom of heaven. Whosoever therefore shall humble himself as this little child, the same is greatest in the kingdom of heaven. And whoso shall receive one such little child in my name receiveth me. But whoso shall offend one of these little ones which believe in me, it were better for him that a millstone were hanged about his neck, and that he were drowned in the depth of the sea.
Cailey Duluoz Nov 2010
Such solidarity we created
On the hilltop with the cows

Discussing sassafras,
Our Chakras,
Summer-berry wine.

Per aspera ad astra
But without inhaling tar
We have come.

The cornbread with anise and wheat berries
Cruncy and sweet
Slathered with strawberry jam
Was such a luxurious meal
For us two tired wanderers.

We're left over from the '60s
Living in the past but in the moment
Listening to Mama Tried (well, she did!)
And crying over Wharf Rat
We model turtles, Celtic knots, a moose
Dream of yesterday and tomorrow
Say what we mean
Take a misguided turn driving home
And our minds meander to slumber and internal illusions.
Chad Young Dec 2020
O silver and black knight of the forest,
what goal have you taken up for the castle?
"I seek to slay with my beauty only..."
"Slay those cries and moans from lonely damsels."

"What business does an evil eye have in the land
of purity and repose?"
"I have many good deeds fine guardian."
"Then enter secure, but let no evil in, or you will be cast
out."
....
"You have no business here until your
wicked deeds are paid for, get out!"

"Hey, that's okay," a fair damsel
allows me to part from my solitude.
Put on the sandy veil of partnership, for the spirit has
reached into the divine female and divine male.
Let those chakras make a transpersonal point,
but sacral business is all I see.
Maidens forever young.

It seems an eunich has breached our display.
But are we allowed back into the land of purity and repose?
It seems the true goal of a babe's heart
at the lap of his mother has entered the lair.

Now is the fair damsel taken to the merciless judge.

Now is a beautiful friend, waiting all this
time, to exchange a breeze
of heartfelt love.
****** purity is sought after, yet
there is no place to hide a ****.

Light no longer is transferred from the 8th dimension.
The male/female chakras above the crown open up again
for sacral play.
The sattvic essence remains,
and I am held dearly at this party.

The children outlast me during the night.

I enter through a circular gate of pastel crystal petals
into a deck of superstrength beings
of all colors.
A female face is grafted to mine.
She puts on silver and black armor
and the walls are crimson.
Meditation in front of a mirror and inside my pyramid made of clothes hangers.
I'm seeking to amass a Collection
of the World's spiritual, mythic and philosophical codices.
I want to collect them out of veneration
for those who came before who have tried to illuminate the Paths:

The following is my library of such books of yet.
Entries in bold are my recommendations;
entries italicized are strongly recommended.

-Old Works:

Egyptian Book of the Dead
Tibetan Book of the Dead
The Bhagavad Gita
Euclid's Elements

Tao te Ching (I have 3 translations)
I Ching (2 translations and a workbook)
The Qur'an
The Bible

-Newer Works:

Plato and a Platypus walk into a Bar: Philosophy explained through Jokes
Quadrivium: Number, Geometry, Music, & Cosmology
The Pulse of Wisdom - College Eastern Philosophy Book
Food of the Gods by Terence McKenna
The Elements of Reason - College Logic Book
1001 Perls of Buddhist Wisdom
Net of Being by Alex Grey
Art Psalms by Alex Grey
The Portable Nietzsche
The Red Book of Jung
The Portable Jung

The Subtle Body - Encyclopedia of chakras, auras and other personal energy systems.
Who are you? - 101 Ways of Seeing Yourself
--

I seek to compile this Collection
not to have a nice looking bookshelf;
nor do I seek to find which one is right.

I seek to learn from each of these
the lessons that are intrinsic in our Lives;
they're all matters of perspectives.

I want to compile the aspects of each philosophy with which I resonate
and integrate them into my own,
forging a dynamic and holistic individual philosophy.

All of these books are Mystical masterpieces.
All of these books provide insights to the nature of our Holy Reality.
All of these books ultimately attempt to express the same ineffability.
All of these books are interpreted then translated and interpreted again.
The way I see it,
I may as well do it for myself; draw my own conclusions:
Think for myself.
If anyone seeks further information
such as publishers or Authors not mentioned, please let me know.
If anyone has suggestions for additions to my collection, please let me know. :)

Quadrivium is simply and unequivocally badass.
Prana Moonshine May 2015
Gently close the door before
Running away from the sangha of the gongs,
Running to the sangha of the forest.
Dualities, so extreme,
Oneness, so infinite.

I step more patiently now,
With the same wonder,
But with increased senses.
The senses feast on stimuli.
The senses fast on deprivation.
Yes the green is greener.

I return to the chakras,
The protection of the fox,
The fuzzy comfort of soft things.
To hear music, to bake bread,
To feel touch.

Now our distance is greater,
And it creates closeness.
Now the sadness of spaces
Creates refreshed longing.

I smile at the mystical and curious
May Apple Retreats.
The Big Tree, the threshold.
The portal, welcomes me,
Shelters me.

Practices breathing fully,
Proclaiming:

                            “LIVE LIFE,
                              LIVE LIFE”
Remember..

Your Body is an Electrochemical,  Biological Machine, which is interactive due to the ******-physiological interface of life and wait for it..... so goose bumps are light and or sound jetting out your vibrational resonance and you are falling upward in a way you are not sensing as directional. keep reading...

The fact that, as if you were in the actual abyss of the waters above looking at earth and the sun's light and stars are NOT visible to the naked eye without mater of a filter to interact with the light thus allowing the eye to view the byproduct of the energy that you do not see into the heat and spectrum of light you can see, the by products of the interaction with mater, (* i say this, and no one has yet to say, well, what about the cornea and the lens of the eye it is mater...) Ahh the "Window to the Soul" the eyes, um, there is nothing between you and the light but what you perceive to be , here, try this, we will continue, and then address this.

As you know the light is not visible, and we humans see less than any other known creature on this genetic love ****, um, ship, called earth, and we see the chakras focal lens array as it were of us being Crystal, in nature and the prism of the Pink Floyd Album for which was "in celebration of the comet Kohoutek ( Spout On true translation, what you really believe they named this after a Russian with that name and Hail Bopp after who? oh Hail Bopp means too Turn Off the action of Turning OFF) um yeah. so as we were, right.. or in celebration of the birth of ricci dale scott or badger crow moon / the shine of moon_shine lol, come on I get some fun here right?" later to be renamed and packaged as " The Dark Side of the Moon" like I said, see earlier claim of birth lol. ****, sorry. did it again. um.. where were we.. oh, so as we are the prism and the non-visible light interacts with our um, consciousness we fracture it into the focal points of our lower self's or our body or chakras points or clusters of from within pouring outward the reality you see before you..... um, okay, see imagine we in space staring at the earth in its weird non circular non-ball flat weird half this half ******* lie,,umm sorry, okay imagine we are staring at earth, so seeing since, all things are vibrating in constant vibration and are only in our existence when they are stable and steady in their "resonation" of vibration ie steel vibrates different than glass porcelain vibrates even higher than glass thus why taking a spark plug white porcelain part broken from the rest and barely i mean oh so gently toss it at a car window and boom it busts with extreme violence and force of action, why? because it can not match or actually, it can match the vibrational frequency of the porcelain but by it reaching close to it, it looses its resonance and stability as glass, just as heat can melt all things or actually alter the vibrational frequency in which it resonates at fully stable, it is still stable, but now can be altered then cooled to take a rock round and make a building block and note the handles that were used to move it, but it still has that slow cooling oozing look like so many megalithic building do, or how you can boil water instantly with sound, yes, but I digress here, for light is SOUND, what came before light? and he said, let there be light... said... sound. light is sound. and sound is multidimensional in all aspects, thus the spoken word. but, lets go back, so all things are vibrating, and we are in space, looking at a vibrating earth and well, if all light is not visible till it interacts with mater, that means the light you see, is the reflection of that mater interacting with the non-visible light.... thus you are actually seeing the wait for it.. The Reflection of The Image of a Reflection of a Vibration of mater held stable in this Resonation in which We exist or the image of the reflection of the sound of the thing we are seeing for it is all what? SOUND. oh, and the focal lens of the window to the soul.... well, i think we just covered that, and if not, keep watching and um, loving.  it pours out from within as you are altering that which passes through you, there beautiful. !!!!!
say what you mean and mean what you say for it is this way to be true for what you say is the focual lens of the whole of you. there prism people, on a light sound barrier wave and membrane in between as we, go through. umm. too much there or here at the end? hum, maybe.. dail back a biut maybe...
RyanMJenkins Jun 2014
Gaining wisdom,
Listening to Mos Def
Not to be boxed in by the quadrant of the bass clef,
Because I like the melodies of the treble.
If Eye am to live a life to be confined, then call me a rebel.

Letting out all that was repressed
Counting blessings instead of stresses
Picking up messes &
Preparing for the test
To invest in myself,
in you
~
Diving below the depths to see what's true~

The interest accrues
But there's no use -
in paying these taxes to factions
When they should be subtracted from the equation
For exacerbating trivial situations

til we see the answer is One

You have the control, a full mind\body/soul collaboration

Sort out ya chakras and rebuild your nation
Plant seeds and reverse the deforestation

Let creativity fill your wounds and be captivated by fascination

Follow your own soul
Guided by sensation
Close your eyes and breathe, if ya need, some quick elation
...Away from frustration or the contemplation on the
"right" choice.

Just share your innermost genuine voice,
Keep the soil moist,
& the stem strong in order to stay poised

Lose the armor
For you are formless
In a state of vulnerability,
We are never dormant
But rather, open to the occupants
that we can't even see
Let your heart explode with love and you'll know what it's like to be free.

Don't open up though, and we'll be doomed to repeat

Be not afraid to call upon the Youniverse
Disperse what you rehearsed
before your vessel is within another in the confines of a hearse.

Weird to hear, but we can't wait for one more day.
It could be anyone's last grain of sand,
So by all means,
Say what you have to say~

You have a gift,
& It's called the present
Living with the ability to lift,
and make others' lives pleasant.
Muster every ounce of love and drift,
Right into another's essence


You hold the power in your hands, reach out~
..You'll never go hungry..
*Giving vital lifeforce to those experiencing drought
Ricky Sep 2015
You are God sent

You are a walking church bell and every time you take a step you ring, and I swear even atheists stop what they're doing just to praise you

I look into your eyes and watch as the lamp of your body illuminates your soul and understand what Matthew meant when he said you were full of light

You speak the language of angels and the vibrations of your voice cause me to go so deep into meditation that it causes an imbalance in all 114 of my chakras, and you always wonder why I only speak to you telepathically

Every time our lips meet I go 6,000 years back in time and relive the moment Adam and Eve took a bite out of the forbidden fruit and the taboo taste never fails to be worth it

I know that you're God sent
because you have God's Scent

I know that you're God sent
because you ascend into the sky with wings as strong as Samson
before he was tricked and deceived by Delilah

I know that you're God sent*
because you're bound to betray just how they all betrayed our Messiah
Jessica Golich Sep 2014
Physical and spiritual ecstasy
Sharing a meditative experience within this circular flow of energy
Wave after wave of cosmic telepathy
Diving into our heavenly destiny
Biochemical magic; tremendously healing and aligning chakras pleasantly
Absorbing the suns energy and visualizing the manifestation of longevity all the while detoxifying and transforming monumentally

— The End —