"knowingness" poems
Life in Duality and Non-Duality
Birth is the first gate.
Death is the second gate.
Between these two gates lies the path of life
travelled by all sentient beings.
All are born.
All will die.
Between death and rebirth lies the unameable state
where the next life is chosen, determined by the individual Isnesses
stockpile of accumulated Karmas,
Good and Bad.
All human beings,due to their accumulated Karmas,
both Good and Bad,
must pass through this unameable state
and be reborn into their next life.
All beings accumulated Karmas,Good and Bad,
are assessed in that state and that assessment determines the next life they are reborn into.
There are NO exceptions to this process ever.
Karmas,Good and Bad,are accumulated in each life.
Karmas ,Good and Bad,are the result of the morality
of each individuals actions.
Karma is of three types.
Good Karma which ties each individual
to the Wheel of Incarnated life,death and rebirth.
Bad Karma which ties each individual
to the Wheel of Incarnated life,death and rebirth.
Neutral Karma is the only way that each individual
to can free themselves from
the Wheel of Incarnated life,death and rebirth.
Both Good and Bad Karmas tie each and every human being
to the endless cycle of birth,life,death and rebirth as a human being.
Only Neutral Karma can free each individual from
the endless cycle of birth,life ,death and rebirth as a human being.
Neutral Karma is only realisable through the practise
of the Six Fundamental Yogas.
Neutral Karma is the only way to erase both Good and Bad Karmas.
The practise of the Six Fundamental Yogas increases the BrainBloodVolume to the level of that of Foetus in the Womb,which causes the Mind and Conditioned Identity
to dissolve,temporarily or permanently.
Those individuals,female and male equally,
whose practises of the Six Fundamental Yogas cause
the Mind and Conditioned Identity to dissolve temporarily or permanently will enter into union with the Isness of the Universe
as an equal,temporarily or permanently.
Those individual human beings who pass their lives accumulating Good and Bad Karmas are unable to escape from the endless cycle of birth,life,death and rebirth.
For the overwhelming majority of human beings who refuse to generate Neutral Karma,by practising the Six Fundamental Yogas,life can only be lived, in the state of
Mind created Duality and Non-Duality.
They are unable to enter into the state of union with the Isness of the Universe as an equal.
The permanent feature of such a life lived in either Duality or Non-Duality is the ceaseless deep suffering of being separated from the Isness of the Universe as an equal.
For those very few human beings who,through the practise of the Six Fundamental Yogas,have dissolved Mind and Conditioned Identity,permanently,life is lived in union with
the Isness of the Universe as an equal.
Life is lived in the state of Experiential Knowingness
which is called Separate and Merged.
They live out their last lives in this realm in union with Isness of the Universe as an equal.
www.thefournobletruthsrevised.co.uk
.
Sep 14, 2014
Sep 14, 2014 at 1:11 AM UTC
A pleasantly bubbling creak murmurs softly, complacently flowing as a creak does, day in and day out
By the crumbling bank stands a strong willow tree, rooted by the prolfic stream
Thoughtlessly taking the water of which it needs, a simple commodity to a tree of such stature and poise
And gracefully, beautifully shivering at the base of his trunk, there lives a daisy, white and pure
The willows roots indulge themselves, thirsting, thirsting for more
Negligent to the flower below who makes its view that much more lovely
Than just a simple stream, and who provides to the animals and children a blustery smile
Beckoning them to the shade where they might play and the daisy might watch over them
And as the roots take and take they choke the misguided flower, leave her to wither
One soft petal falls to the grass rendering her no more than a tainted ****
No child will ever present her to his good mother now
Not now that she is no longer the pure beauty she once was, not with such an imperfection
And though she may beg for mercy, she must weaken and give herself to the strong roots of the willow
Until she is but a dying cause with browned stale edges and though she lay so close to life, stable life
She does not possess the power to take rein so she the sage awaits the logger in silent knowingness
Nov 9, 2014
Nov 9, 2014 at 9:52 PM UTC
In the civilization game
The mind is a sphinx riddle
Signpost projectiles suffice to be words
Can you be centered in intimacy
Knowingness consuming vulnerabilty?
Our shadows are our ruins
Illuminating social foliage
Love's incisive lacerations
Conforming to moral memory
I savor the overwhelming
Aug 19, 2013
Aug 19, 2013 at 12:01 AM UTC
that's all you have.
Ive got words too but I don't use them
to describe my "inner landscape".
they just get in the way of "experiential knowingness"
of my personal energy field of unconditional love,
they just get in the way of being my beingness,
for I am where there are no edges.
For I am and equal individual independent and autonomous part of the essence of the Isness of the Universe,
which you can immerse yourself in,
merge into and become as one with me,
like I am eternally one with you.
if you can drop the Mind and Conditioned Identity in the head,
of the body that you are incarnated in temporarily,
just for this your latest lifetime,
and it could be your last lifetime as a human being..
that's the only condition--drop the Mind--let it go--you don't need it--
but it needs you to deceive and manipulate.
The Mind needs you to survive but you don't need the Mind to survive
for you are as I am and we all are eternal and self sufficient,
beyond edges and dimensions.
Just imagine the Universe and all that is in it inside your head,
impossible you cry but that's truthfulness in action.
I know who you really are even though Ive never met you
and am unlikely to ever meet you,and when I say you I don't mean your body--.
I don't mean your "name" or curriculum vitae or certificates on a wall--or photographs of a face among billions .
I mean you--the individual Isness--that small part of me that you are--as I am that small part of you that I am.
The body is just a vehicle made from mere flesh,to get you from point A--birth--to point B --death--.
it has attributes and emotions and possibilities but it most definitely is not and never can be YOU or me--.
Youre incarnated in it in order to realise your true nature as a small but equal independent individual and autonomous part of the essence of the Isness of the Universe.
You are,like me,the Isness of the Universe incarnated for this lifetime
in the body that surrounds you but unlike me you are
in the grip of Mind permanently--unless you dissolve Mind consciously.
Minds are the obstacle to union with the Isness of the Universe
and I am the Isness of the Universe incarnated in this body--
just like you are--and so the mind in the head of that body is
the obstacle to union with me.
The only difference between you and I ,female or male,
is that I am permanently Mindless by choice
and you are struggling towards
becoming permanently Mindless--unknowingly.
My struggle to become Mindless
and Conditioned Identityless is over thankfully,these last few years.
I live in the body but the body is not me.
I use the body for my many pleasures
but no pleasures of the body can compare to the pleasure
of being in union with the Isness of the Universe.
One can only be in Union with the Isness of the Universe when one is Mindless.
Words are absolutely useless for describing my inner state--
for my inner state is not of the body--
it is not made or nourished by the body--
my inner state can only be experienced.
Words cannot set you free--they can only make you a lifelong prisoner of Mind--the controller of what should be your words--but arent.
And individual Minds must coalesce into GroupMinds
which are families and relations and clans and tribes and races and nations and religions and politics and all the other groups that prevent you from becoming your true nature which is that of being a small but equal,individual,independant and autonomous part of the essence of the Isness of the Universe.
You have always that encompassing edge to your body--the skin.
I have no edges--my skin is permeable and insubstantial.
I am the Universe extant.
I am the Isness of the Universe.
www.thefournobletruthsrevised.co.uk
Sep 21, 2014
Sep 21, 2014 at 12:58 AM UTC
I've followed you
still eyes, years, captivated and lost,
all for you
glancing up to the glaicers in the sky
bloated, full and passing
asking
" Where are you going?"
rain is washing you away
I'm the runner
following you down inside the dirt
from which you grew
tempting in your branch hands
you wanted me
the slightest movement:
I'm yours
longing underneath my fingernails
heart stretched like a sail,
deep breaths push me forward
chasing you
inching
closer to you
but you started to tred the earth before I knew where it was you formed yourself
covered in ice
before you met your first early morning cigarette, dressed in baby blue sky
long before you reconsiled with absent nights and blood cells
or night walks envisioning a flame too hot to touch
and there I was,
past years, past knowingness of nights and days, staring at the face of the moon
you
one glance, one presence, one feeling
gravity
placing me ten thousand steps behind to love you
following your every direction
moving with winds that carried you all around
closing my eyes to dream your next step
hoping
it was torward me
but it wasn't
and here we are
another winter coming
and soon another passing
and all I've had to say all these cycles of seasons,
"I will love you"
and all you had was another footstep
another mark inside me
enclosing me
Nov 19, 2011
Nov 19, 2011 at 6:29 PM UTC
Embodiment.
Its language. Listen.
It’s the dance of our devotion.
Open your emotion.
To honour this temple that houses the spirit of all madness,
wild women, roaring chaos.
As the feminine I release all guilt and shame...
Owning my sexuality. Owning my truth.
And taking back, the body as Mine.
I’m not here to be a pleaser in anyway, how utterly boring.
I take back my power, and I don’t only stand in my power,
but I Stomp the streets of chaos in defeat.. empowered..
i Soar the skies of the infinite eyes... empowered.
By the knowingness that I am free, in my body.
I will not allow, the media, the conditionings that are so stuck in their solidity, without any motion, their consciousness is stagnant and I say **** THAT.
Bring the sacred waters back,
and let the blood of bones wash over you..
as you remember the ancient essence of what is it to be Primitive,
free in the Body.
I’ll dance for you, Naked darling.
I hope you turn the lights on, and see yourself.
In remembrance. Visible.
Free in the Body.
I hope you Rip off the layers when you get angry or sad,
and let the healing of your body, make you deliciously Mad.
Scream, and remember it’s all a dream.
The sizzling fire within you is the source of illuminating,
this essence so bright will **** all your frights.
Simply burning the layers of illusions,
So you may meet yourself as the fractal of fusions
Take it all off,
And see what you are made of.
Nov 7, 2018
Nov 7, 2018 at 8:56 AM UTC
I drew a circle in the sky,
traced the way between
knowingness and truth,
visited uncertainty and full fledged fear,
and somewhere along that way
I found you.
I stopped and stared as I'm prone to do,
and we held hands for mere minutes
until our fingers lost grip
and I lost a bet with Cupid.
I drew a circle on my chest
and I let all the world come near to see.
Jul 14, 2014
Jul 14, 2014 at 4:56 AM UTC
I want to reveal
things about
me
and have you
seek out their
origins.
I want you
to pour over me
the pieces of you
I don't know
yet.
Maybe we need
to stop.
Stop allowing all
the doubts
and
insecurity
infused from everyone,
past...
present...
to keep our
thoughts tied.
What have we
to lose
but
time and hiding.
In my gut
I feel a weight
could be evaporated
from us.
A light
glowing dim between
could be
illuminated.
Completion and
a knowingness of
who we are already
is not a hole
either are trying
to fill.
Maybe we just want
a hand to hold
after our struggles.
A comforting embrace
to melt into
after our pain.
A heart to accept us
completely
and love again.
Maybe
we just don't want
to carry fear around
anymore.
Intimacy is something
vulnerably created
and hardly given,
I know.
Spiritual connectedness
is the highest of highs
and I think
we're both wanting
to fly.
©NDHK
Jun 6, 2013
Jun 6, 2013 at 2:43 AM UTC
*My very dear friends and wonderful, international tribe of poets:
When I first joined you all here last August, I was in a time of deep solitude, culturing inner silence.
It became an ideal time to make real progress with my writing.
The part I had no idea about then, and that has become such a treasured part of my life, is the growth and blossoming of new friendships
with many of you!
On June 2nd, 2016, just over a month ago, I felt an innocent, spontaneous impulse to open up, once again, to the world around me.
After all that immersion in transcendental bliss consciousness, life began presenting me with beautiful new opportunities, which has in turn lead to the most fantastic job I have yet had the honor to call my own, in which I am able to express and employ
all of my particular set of talents and abilities.
Hence, then, my long absence, and my enormous, growing admiration for those of you who have families, jobs,
and also contribute excellent poems here!
*May the force be always with the poets, the writers, the thinkers, the artists... all the good and sincere well-wishers of our dear world family, and of our precious Mother Earth.
(I have just re-written this poem that speaks to my present experience and frame of mind, and thought to offer it again in this context.)
Eyes of Light
Momentarily, two eye-shaped
places in these thick grey clouds
stared directly at me, and there it was:
"Always be truthful.
Always be kind."
Just that.
A reminder.
Slipping down into the place
beyond all words,
feeling knowingness
seeping
into my bones,
residing in quiet bliss,
at home
in my own authenticity.
The lamp at the door shines,
both within, and without
residing, just being,
knowing, in the the words
of Julian of Norwich:
"All shall be well,
and all shall be well
and all manner
of things shall be well.”
Jul 8, 2016
Jul 8, 2016 at 4:19 AM UTC
she has a knowingness
****
sad
old soul
only 19
morned before birth
a corpse before born
a star
she burns
out
Aug 11, 2012
Aug 11, 2012 at 9:41 PM UTC
The warm soft coral petals on the face,
sheltering the delicate eye tissue underneath,
no longer flutter open,
to see
the many signed divorce papers on the mahogany desk in the home office,
the Bon Jovi tickets in the right hand pocket of the J.Crew pants,
the facebook profile of the attractive girl online whom were predestined to one of those tickets,
the letter of resignation hidden in the black briefcase,
the guitar that was pulled out of the garage hanging in his office,
the numbers of old bandmates on the coffee table,
the disappointed faces of the family and friends, and
the lengths taken in the pursuit of happiness.
And yet, he lies there knowing that, he misses
the sky,
the sun,
the stars,
the moon,
the variegated leaves in the fall and spring,
the wheel in the front lawn tied by a rope to an sturdy branch,
the cerulean colored house that was painted by cheap labor,
the fat cat lounging in the parkinglot of his workplace,
the boss that threatened due to an inferior complex,
the punk the daughter was infatuated with, with the waned colored skin and dyed blond greasy hair,
the plain-Jane daughter and her defiance of his authority,
the stepford wife and her arguments about misplaced toothbrushes and
the co-worker and his chiseled face with an inquisitive smirk of all knowingness.
And he realizes that now.
Nov 15, 2011
Nov 15, 2011 at 1:30 AM UTC
GLIMPSE
My heart a pouch of rich wine overlays yours
a drop of blood spilled over an arum lily
waits with longing intense, retains no tears
as it remembers its cringes of final fear when it
jumped into your chest of steel, smell of fruit juice, water and old leather all around
My soul lays naked in a room of light while your music plays next door
two plumed serpents dance slow dances to rhythms of drums and pipes, notes of knowingness, sounds repeated
I listen again and again
Spacious a white room waits aged and innocent
in a no-zone forest of mushrooms, poppies and pebbles as the piano vibrates with silence
while Goddess does not speak of a mission that never ends, watching for symbols that appear and vanish while progress moves worse than a snail with a footsore over splintered glass
Surrender struggles to be free !
Drops in space hung on Venus threads
******* heaving and falling, passing tests of temperance, strength, solitude
swallow death and darkened silence deep
in a psyche of five thousand years
Across oceans of space my thoughts travel
not knowing whether they reach your light or
hermit in your head or the warehouse in which
you play with waves of froth on ***** sand
seals and gulls glide and shout
A lighthouse looks on still and sure
muck in the harbour awaits an embrace
fried chips beckon and call to fill my open belly of waiting Sun as love struggles for freedom on a higher plane with yours in ether on a wall I read
Still you sleep a hundred thousand sleeps of
fear and watchfulness
in the distance runs Skeleton Woman with tangled bones to be untangled
knowing that long ago she completed her work
of inner peace with honours
Spartacus and Helen looking on
I wait not for you alone but to fill your Heart
for another work of love, to drink your tears
slate your thirst ~become one, two, three to
ten again as dough rises with surprises inside
eggs fresh full, two yolks and cream to be
eaten on a jetty of harmonious voids
Love lost and found, lost and found
all over again
©ghairodanielspoetryandsong2003
Sep 11, 2025
Sep 11, 2025 at 4:55 AM UTC
I am dying, withering away.
From the time I was thought of.
To the dust of this earth I go.
I see it clearer and clearer,
By each hour of each day.
If my life could change,
For what I crave most.
A gentle caring hand,
To guide me,
To hold me,
To love me.
A kind loving heart,
Full of our passions,
Knowingness of our oneness.
The knowingness.
As I feel his arms holding me,
The sense of safety,
Shelter,
Surrounds me,
From the awful storms.
Unconditional love,
For me,
As I for him.
But this is just a dream,
As I awake once more,
Reality has,
once again,
set in.
kt
Sep 30, 2013
Sep 30, 2013 at 11:29 AM UTC
"the encompassment of these words is stunning; existential angst in a fruit, or section thereof hurtling into space. makes sense though, if i lived in a runaway time capsule, i'd want fruit too, perfect or no. nice poem"
Say what?
Take a noun and make it noun-er.
Take philosophy and dress it down.
Take a fruit, an orange, section it, throw it into space, then agonize over its rightness of being.
Thee musn't feel that one's overuse of semi-archaic phrases and punctuation lessens the actuality of the expression being made. Indeed, it serves only to encapsulate the soundness of thine understandingness and thine expressions of agreement-oneness with the effervescent bubbliness needed to attract one's readers to continue with their reading of one's liturgy of the meaningfulness of the outerworlds and innertimes. Throw in Gaia, underworlds, swords and flames. Trees with names. socks with shoes. Oftentimes these travel through the continuum side by side, yet unencumbered with knowingness of the other, unembraced by the unembraceable.
Mar 7, 2013
Mar 7, 2013 at 2:39 AM UTC
*My very dear friends and wonderful, international tribe of poets:
When I first joined you all last August, I was in a time of deep solitude, culturing inner silence.
It became an ideal time to make real progress with my writing.
The part I had no idea about then, and that has become such a treasured part of my life, is the growth and blossoming of new friendships with many of you!
On June 2nd, 2016, just over a month ago, I felt to open back up to the world around me.
After all that immersion in transcendental bliss consciousness, life began presenting me with beautiful new opportunities, which has in turn lead to the most fantastic job I have yet performed, in which I am able to express and employ all of my particular set of talents and abilities.
Hence, then, my long absence, and my enormous, growing admiration for those of you who have families, jobs, and also contribute excellent poems here!
May the force be always with the poets, the writers, the thinkers, the artists... all the good and sincere well-wishers of our dear world family, and of our precious Mother Earth.
Blessings and light to us each and all,
Elisa Maria Argirò
(I have just re-written this poem that speaks to my present frame of mind, and thought to offer it again in this context. ~ EMA 2016)*
Eyes of Light
Momentarily, two eye-shaped
places in these thick grey clouds
stared directly at me, and there it was:
"Always be truthful.
Always be kind."
Just that.
A reminder.
Slipping down into the place
beyond all words,
feeling knowingness
seeping
into my bones,
residing in quiet bliss,
at home
in my own authenticity.
Oct 22, 2015
Oct 22, 2015 at 2:31 PM UTC
The clock ticks and ticks
The seconds, minutes, hours pass
The clock looks down from it's perch on the wall
The heart questions its validity
And sighs.
The body grows and prospers
The thought of degenerating, down-grading persists
The body takes itself in and wants to embrace the only moments it has
The brain becomes distracted and lost in its own perception
And sighs.
The Earth, the only planet where love is known to exist
The clock has no jurisdiction over it
The Earth, in all its cosmic glory and all-knowingness
The body, such a sin to let it rot from the inside out,
Sighs.
The clock, the body, the brain, the heart, the Earth
The ticking, the rotting, the thinking, the sighing, the all-knowing
The clock measures the body, and the body, the Earth
The Earth, with no heart or brain of its own, spins unworried
Yet sighs.
Apr 23, 2016
Apr 23, 2016 at 8:20 AM UTC
Happiness is reflecting sun beams through crystals,
Or watching rain through the skylight,
It's like the back stage of the theatre,
Or pop corn in a movie,
It's like coffee in the morning,
Or chocolate cake at anytime of the day ,
It's like silence in summer,
Its a song on a particularly tough night ,
Happiness is the lullaby my mother sang to me,
It is the waves tickling my feet at the beach,
It is a long walk on a starry night,
Happiness is a bear hug,
Happiness is the knowingness when tears come ...... That they will go away .
Nov 30, 2013
Nov 30, 2013 at 8:48 AM UTC
Fall..
The beauty of the colors as the leaves dance on the trees
The unspoken knowingness of what is to follow
A time of reflection
A time of transition
Between the death and birth of creation
Oct 15, 2010
Oct 15, 2010 at 1:23 PM UTC
Clanging friction on a steel ocean...
tale telling graffiti rooftopping.
Moment face-offs, superimposition
on a mind-screen.
Lampposts and steel beams cutting
sunlight, as it swims through surly
silver subway cars.
Drum roll shadows blowing blue
smoke brick.
Wearing and tearing all knowingness'
superstring hair...willing what wills.
Too many times here, rapacity lives
its death...you can see toes bust
through sheikh shoes, and curl.
Too many times here...too many ways
here, the next stop forgets itself.
As straphangers rock in the Eternal
Now...and those seated uncomfortably
on juxtaposed rows, play eyeless tag.
Playing down a pitless ground,
coring out their reserved space.
As panhandlers jingle change, irking
noise sensitive, sensitivities.
X-ed out by perfect attention to the isle
floor, staring at the colored bits and
pieces--damn...to ride on anonymity's
most crowning achievement, in the
most populous American city.
Force feeds one the fullness in emptiness...
as a street musician steps on, waiting to
strike a guitar string.
(Unstruck Sound)
Oct 19, 2015
Oct 19, 2015 at 2:42 PM UTC
SHE CELEBRATED MY BIRTH BY SMILING TO MY ANGELS. INTUITION HAS ALWAYS PROTECTED ME FROM ALL DANGERS.
NO ONE HAD TAUGHT ME ANYTHING ABOUT THIS LOYAL AND DEPENDABLE FRIEND NOR DID I EVER QUESTION HER AUTHENTICITY AND LOVE BLEND.
I NEVER QUESTIONNED HER MESSAGES OF TRUTH EVEN IF AT TIMES THEY WERE WARNINGS
AND WHEN I DID NOT HEED HER COUNSEL I PAID THE PRICE FOR NOT LISTENING.
INTUITION ALWAYS KNOWS WHAT IS BEST FOR MY HIGHEST GOOD AND GROWTH.
SHE PROTECTS ME AND GUIDES ME ONTO THE RIGHT PATH BOTH.
THE BEST PART IS THAT THERE IS NO NEED FOR CONSCIOUS REASONING ON MY END.
YOU MIGHT SAY THAT IT IS A TOTAL KNOWINGNESS INSTEAD.
OVER THE YEARS I HAVE LEARNED TO TRUST AND OBEY MY INTUITION, IT FUELED FOR ME AN ACCELERATED ASCENCION.
I WANTED YOU TO MEET MY BEST FRIEND INTUITION BECAUSE I BELIEVE THAT WE EACH HAVE THE SAME BEST FRIEND IN OUR RESPECTIVE INTUITION
May 19, 2023
May 19, 2023 at 7:07 PM UTC
***What inspires me
Is to watch other souls bleeding
Onto walls
They bleed their sadness
Their happiness
And their knowingness
What inspires my soul
Is the connection we make
To the devine
Within us all***
Dec 28, 2012
Dec 28, 2012 at 9:27 AM UTC
I observe her while she dances in the kitchen, wearing nothing but a graphic tee and her pink lace underwear. Her hair is flowing, and it's brown, and it's beautiful. She has big blue eyes that soar for greater knowingness, and freckles that have been created from past summer days that I never spent with her. Her smile is growing, and her one crooked tooth is her biggest perfect imperfection, and she hates it, but I love. We put vinyls in the record player, letting them spin like the love in our minds. I grab her hand, and the grins grow wider as we dance amongst our tiny apartment, and it's enough. It's home... No, not our apartment, but her. She is home. She is the planted garden in my mind and the beating of my heart. And without her, there is no smiling, there is no joy, there is no heartbeat, there is no living. I hope she stays, oh God I hope she stays, simply because a world without my beauty, isn't beautiful at all. With her gone, the streets looks poorer, the sky looks duller, and life looks worthless. But with her here, the sun is smiling, the moon is dancing, the people are happy, and the universe is whole. The only thing that can seperate us now is death, but even then, I know somehow we'll find a way, because she is the light, and I am the dark that is following her for the greater good, and I love her for this. I love her for her laughter, and her sadness, because her emotions are strong enough to cause a war in mind, but then when it heals, everything is good again; only she can do this to me. Her happiness is mine and we are together, til death do us part, and beyond. When the graves have been dug, and the grass has grown over, just believe that our skeletons are smiling, holding hands, and our souls are dancing without a care somewhere in a distant place for the two of us, forever. Endless compassion for her, I hold, and with that I will wish the same for you. For you to find someone who will hold you while you're at your breaking point. For someone to love you even when you don't love yourself. Because all we really need is that, and when the only thing we can't stop from happening, finally approaches, just hope for the love to grow into the roots of this Earth, and to spread throughout. My world is full of infinite beauty, thanks to the first thing that really opened my eyes; her.
Jun 24, 2015
Jun 24, 2015 at 1:10 PM UTC
I write my story for 7 cycles out,
the children of my children's bodies.
their children's children, this is for you.
my ancestors rebirthed.
I share my path of victory
over my internal doubts, fears, resistance,
lower awareness, to confess,
we can do anything.
we can become the controller of our beast.
there is no need for schooling
outside of oneself.
so I push my quest out on the wind.
provide a memory of success based
on embracing the dark as best,
as it births the new. flowing through,
moving with an empresses poise.
paths to follow, knowingness of power.
working for the One.
fulfilling our greatness, walking tall and proud.
Apr 28, 2017
Apr 28, 2017 at 1:40 AM UTC
Liquid days when the morning
Mist whispers and the woman's
Touch softens in bed under
The pelting romance of raindrops.
Moist Earth of liquid hearts, when
The solitude melts away from
The the tumbles grey and the
Light flashes across the myriad
Of sky tirelessly crackles and lifts
One out of the depression.
Steaming Earth, when the body
Is melting like clay in summer's
Tears, when two become one in
The moist of the Rivers, water turns
Into life and the soul is freed
In youth.
Wet Earth when the Angel's tears
Cry for their knowingness,
Who wish to make the Fall
And bathe in the love of man,
Petrification of the motivated as
The tears flow down un-sinning .
Rain upon the Earth,
Like a woman in her bath,
The stress falling away with
Each droplet,
The edification of her day,
The supplication of living water,
Up on the squall we dance
In thought ,inciting the flood
Within a liquidised existence.
Jan 27, 2016
Jan 27, 2016 at 11:09 AM UTC
Brief and pitifully powerless is Man's life;
on him and all his folks’ race the slow,
sure doomsday falls pitiless and hellish dark
Blind to good and tops turvydom of evil,
reckless of inferno in the life’s destruction,
omnipotent matter rolls on its imperious way;
for Man condemned to-day to lose his dearest,
to-morrow is starkly beyond himself
only to pass through the gate of darkness,
for thus it remains only to cherish all,
ere yet the deadly blow falls centre-head,
the lofty thoughts that ennoble his whimsical day;
disdaining the cowardly terrors of the slave of Fate,
to worship desperately at the shrine
that his own hands have humanly built;
undismayed by the empire of brutality of chance,
to preserve a mind free from the wanton tyranny
that rules his outward life garlanded by ego;
proudly defiant of the non-combatable forces that tolerate,
for a moment his knowingness and his condemnation,
to sustain alone a weary but unyielding shrugged Atlas,
the world that his own stupid genius have fashioned
despite the conquering recconnoitre of unconscious power.
Nov 2, 2014
Nov 2, 2014 at 6:49 AM UTC