"kosmos" poems
Before Eve turned into...
‘Evil’
...or evil tempted Eve.
She and Adam,
innocent,
played amongst its leaves?
A sage could say they were the same,
parts of some degree,
Say so as they will about the double-tree?
For life and knowledge go
'hand-in-hand,'
..which wife and husband weave.
Jun 5, 2016
Jun 5, 2016 at 1:49 PM UTC
seluruh hidup, kau akan berdengung menyanyikan lagu selamat tidur ke telinga ini,
dan di tempat tidur mati ini akan menjadi semua saksi..
suatu hari ku kan memuat sebuah memoar di dalam genggaman tanganmu..diiringi sebuah melodi terputus-putus dan bergetar..
mereka menemukan cinta dan ketenangan seperti mereka belum pernah mengenalnya..seperti sebuah daging yang diangkat dari sinar matahari
mereka menemukan cinta dan ketenangan seperti mereka belum pernah mengenalnya..dan tulisan berakhir tanpa sebuah resolusi..sebuah revolusi
sebuah kesudahan perlahan, meleleh, melebur melalui ruang dan waktu ke dalam diri lagi..kebutuhan sebuah realita akan menjadi hampa..
mereka berteriak kepada kehampaan “oh wahai kosmos, oh cahaya suci!”..
ia akhirnya belajar dari sebuah bayangan tidak hanya pada kegelapan
dan kepada mereka yang tidak percaya pada sebuah proses, kelak akan menjadi akar yang busuk di dalam sebuah kandungan.
Mar 29, 2012
Mar 29, 2012 at 10:47 AM UTC
Teen die hange van die berge-nag
Speel die donker op die ligte sag
Die kalm daal op die chaos-stad
Van klank en mense op elke kronkel pad
Dit voer jou mee in 'n sterre mat
In skoon lug met 'n oop kop
Kan gedagtes net vloei en skrop
Aan dinge wat is en kom
Aan mens wees, goed en krom
Aan die eenvoud en dit wat verstom
Woorde lê in 'n niks-wees dwaal
Dis rou, dit is maar net - dis kaal
Net om die stemme wat skree te verlos
Dinge wat 'n uitlaat soek in die kosmos
Dit het ink gevind, soos vuur in fynbos
Jul 12, 2016
Jul 12, 2016 at 4:53 AM UTC
Sorry! Pocket dial!
It's been a crazy Christmas season!
Never a dull moment
and never without a drama.
Strength doesn't come by on its own,
it requires training i suppose.
Have a beautiful day today
where you can really smell the crisp air,
look at the garden and the trees
doing their best everyday come what may,
see the wonderous sky and notice
the potential for peace and joy
the way your father appreciated
the very important things in life
that we often miss...
We can learn so much and appreciate so much
when we are given the time to reflect on the past
and dream into our future.
The answer is yes.
It will be more than okay,
It will be better and you will be stronger, wiser and more loving than you dreamed,
The answer is yes
I hear you
Yes, the answer is yes
Sing a song in your heart,
sometimes you pick,
other times life wants its soundtrack.
What ever the case,
sing your troubles away,
sing your joys out loud
A song is a prayer
And a prayer is a conscious action to begin moving to a better place
In connection with the kosmos
Everything is with us all the time,
we cannot separate ourselves from any of it;
not what we see or don't even know about,
We just move through it in different ways together. Even when we feel alone we are still all moving in it together,
always.
sometimes its as simple as remembering to reach out with a prayer
and breathe in the answer
❤
Dec 21, 2022
Dec 21, 2022 at 7:27 PM UTC
create poetic Kosmos
there, red sun --
mereologize a green sun too
(you speak clear paradox to me)
for where identity's own space expands
time allows all forms
a selfhood c^2
color blind i blink at flashes of the light-tips' turning-spins,
which speak pre-lingually from you,
red-green sun, one you
--in your veins, explosive
substance-meanings weaved in nescience,
all-that-is-else that is guidance of the is,
searching, guiding
origins originating proto-wise
a brain of star-potential...
in trustful shine of seeing mind..
your changing knowledge
permanently scriptureless
and scripture-birthing
--honest propheteer from out of time,
claiming rightful throne-identity
with star-stuff sovereignty of all...
a sun from here will crown you just the same
again galactic numbers over,
yet also slave to speaking kingship all alone
.
May 14, 2013
May 14, 2013 at 5:29 AM UTC
My love for you,
Slips beyond the bounds of this earth,
Coating every inch, of every acre of land
Your feet might tread,
Before ascending to the heavens
To merge with your love
Amidst the wonders of the kosmos.
We dance upon the moon,
Bouncing and twirling,
But we don't tarry.
We blast off
And crash down on Mars.
And we lie together
Upon the cold red sands,
Let the wind whip past,
Spraying us with tiny particles.
Then we will smash right through the asteroid belt,
Bashing through anything that crosses our path.
We will watch the billion year storms of Jupiter,
Roiling and churning in magnificent patterns,
As we hold hands, and ice skate, on the surface of Europa,
Gliding together, in the kaleidoscopic light.
Off to Enceladus we will fly,
To witness the boiling geysers,
And watch as the scalding fluid turns to snow,
Adding a shower of sparkling crystals
To Saturn's brilliant rings.
We'll Swim in the methane sea's of Titan,
And kiss in the clouds, as we ride the storm currents.
Then we'll end our evening
On the surface of Triton,
And make love beneath the planetary glow,
Of the blue and white marble of Neptune,
Lighting our passionate embrace,
With a dim azure radiance.
The red of our lust combines,
And a purple luminescence releases from the surface,
As pulsing rhythm increases,
And we explode into one billion beams of light.
Reforming as we hurtle back
To earth, to our bodies,
To our bed, to our love, to us.
Earth, Bodies, Bed, Love, Us...
All the wondrous sights and sensations of the universe,
Are but minor miracles, compared to these five things.
Aug 26, 2012
Aug 26, 2012 at 5:07 AM UTC
headaches from a lack of
rested eyes, but at least
the chill jams be rollin'. and
goin' close to thirty-six this
round. closer to insanity
than my own long dark,
long gone, long vicious
stares lost to souls woes.
what feels like death-throws
pressed from the mind of
the Great Lord. and i
am always present with thee.
to go a bit ancient, to
feel a body left out too long --
words echo through distance
of Nous the Supreme,
of we the everywhere. echo
from place without
physical existence and the
plethora of priests
willingly waiting to corral
lost souls, the endless
bound and fettered. con-
flating all deitys' names
and the cults following.
waiting to cull from pens
where labels hang. priests
force head hung low, hair
cleared of nape. ready to
free us for a Pope's feast.
to bring in force a
Vision Limitless, all Light
changing aspect to dark-
ness. Logos descending on
Nature. nay; that shall
be known with the pruning
of reaction and of vindication.
and of Nature's being?
she received the Word,
pronounced herself
the Kosmos Beautiful.
Apr 3, 2013
Apr 3, 2013 at 10:36 PM UTC
gennemsigtig person, glædeligt imødekommende bud, ordrer, holdninger
hvem er du? en afspejling af andre
sømmet fast
sammenhængskraft og kraftanstrengelse
hvor mange gange er du blevet kaldt en engel? en engel i kød og blod, i al sandhed. en engel som alle andre engle der vandrer på jorden. himmelsk
du fortjener at kende dig selv, din ophøjethed, din uendelighed
find et spejl og kig hele vejen gennem universerne og over på dig selv. ikke spejlbilledet men dig
gennem al støjen og alle de råbende faktorer der skaber dit ydre jeg
find dit indre, dit kompas der tillader dig at navigere inde i det kosmos der hersker på indersiden
ellers er alt vendt på vrangen
som menneskets nethinde, den optiske illusion af omvendthed - på hovedet
en nikkedukke, en dårlig vane
ret ryggen og indse din utilpassede uendeligheds grænseløshed
luk støjen ude og fokuser på den indre stemme, kompasset
far vild i dine galakser og lyt til universet (det indre og det ydre)
tumulten er identitetsskabende, men der er grænser
(mål, man endelig indhenter)
dybt inde ved du hvem du er
himmelsk og uvurderlig og alt for tilbøjelige til at bukke under
stå fast, slå rod, vend dig indad så du først nu egentlig
kan se resten af verden
med klare øjne
spejlblanke
dig
Dec 22, 2015
Dec 22, 2015 at 5:58 PM UTC
I want to write long rambling letters
Like Ginsberg, Kerouac Burroughs
Stream of consciousness
The sea of unconsciousness
But I have no correspondents
No one writes letters
None of my friends ever have
No one puts pen to paper
Texts are ethereal wisps of smoke
Letters are concrete things
That belong in old shoeboxes
Until the words fade into obscurity
I should deliver my letters to the void
With no mailing address, no stamps, no nothing
Just drop them in mailboxes
Like a single raindrop falling into the sea
The words won’t be trapped
In my head or in in old notebooks
Or in undiscovered corners of the web
But floating out there in the kosmos forever
Oct 2, 2016
Oct 2, 2016 at 2:43 AM UTC
To cast away them old anxieties
I stringently hold my course
Turning away from mystic deities
I only focus on the source
The spirit forms to fit
A reality that refuses to bend
And questions of our existence
Are blown by perpetual winds
Who can really say beyond a doubt
If we’re temporal or we’re permanent
No scientific experiment
Could ever positively determine it
And as we strive to understand
Just why the hell we’re here
We’re distracted by the cosmos
And the music of the spheres
Jun 2, 2014
Jun 2, 2014 at 8:57 AM UTC
Since Jesus Christ is God, and I am not,—
Since I am not my own creator, I,
Adam, shall seek no more to justify
Myself; for every tittle, dot, and jot
Has been fulfilled by Christ who's God of all,
The Adam hitherto I could not be,
The faithful Adam faithful now in me,
Adam redeemed and lifted from the fall.
The God of all the gods of nature, earth,
The kosmos, hades, greed, lust, war, and death,
Whose word is life, whose life is breath, whose breath
Inspires the wind that seeds the second birth,
Is Sin's Exterminator, Death's Decease,
Judgment, Forgiveness, Mercy, Love, and Peace.
*
Aug 9, 2024
Aug 9, 2024 at 11:53 AM UTC
omtåget: gadelampelys
fugtighed
tåget sindstilstand
selskabelig ensomhed;
vattet
uvirkeligt, overfladesamtale
den uoriginale følelse af, at være uoriginal
en kold skulder, en kold følelse
tågesind
spejlblankt, sælsomt
dugget spindelvæv af følelser og interne relationer
intet og alting
mennesket og kosmos
det virkelige og det forestillede
opdigtet tæthed
sløret apati, desorienterende intethed
u i g e n n e m s i g t i g
det eneste håndgribelige og meningsfulde er ordene; tankerne!
nedskrevne
tilsløret tankegang
skummet udsyn; afskallende blå neglelak
midlertidig glæde
et venskab bliver en vane
støvet
vag stemning
bizar mental tilstand
tilsandet
at tænke på noget fungerer som et forstørrelsesglas;
fordampet
ude af kroppen men også helt inde i den, inderst, sammenkrøllet
skrøbelig
diset
gråzone,
gråt udsyn,
grå
Nov 6, 2015
Nov 6, 2015 at 6:51 PM UTC
Breathe the world in, then let it out
As we contemplate what life is really about
Perhaps it’s a mark upon the world we’re meant to leave
Or some final truth we’re supposed to perceive
Then again maybe we allow ourselves
To be deceived
By the views of science and these religions
We feel compelled to believe
Yet what is it, as sentient beings that we really need?
I observed two lovers blemished by hard life and circumstance
Yet they held tight to true romance
The radiance of their love for each other shone
With the brilliance and beauty of the Kosmos
Two parts come together and on into infinity as a greater whole
Yet I am but a fragment broken and adrift
Out of phase and in no position to repair the rift
So allow me to impart to you these words
Find love before the meaning becomes a blur...
Aug 7, 2014
Aug 7, 2014 at 8:48 AM UTC
For this day lay sudden undeathly amongst much life ' love. That if us too beloved bards be as one upon this plane, what greatness hast been to humanity. Shakespeare O Shakespeare, here wilt this life bear our sweetest love? With the spirit of troves hereby truity, what would be of thy rave. I thank thee for such guidance in these arts, more so bestow by whom speakth by the frequencies of the frame. These verses etch'd in stone mayst grind this Earth with goodness. For that even in future, man is evil and his content is low, he hath the word of the bard. To day things be not so slim that man mayst do things he canst not limn but it is by nature his grace is holy. Be it the painter, calligrapher, sculptor, and so the musician- all things lie great for these men and women with anyway they are to be in tune. I thank all wordsmiths of this phaseless art. All whom partaken in the arts fine and fair, I hope it remains a subtle way. Should this form not go astray no matter the one. It should forevermore be for the greater good of the Kosmos, the greater good of mortal life. To beyond is possible by the word or by the sound of tether'd consciousness. This is not all, more is all and we hast yet more. In this time I taketh it as mine. I remember O Shakespeare, I remember thee. Worrit not for relevance of thy excellence, it is eternal and is to be. As thou saith; 'To be or not to be' I in this frame saith but the same, 'of or of not' so shall it be known. This world without the bitterness of poetry is a world void. The verses spew'd by this passion art noble, gentle, but fierce to where no ordinaries canst trod. Only those with the light of the greatest substances of spirit so genuine. Shakespeare o gallant one, rest...rest upon thy crypt. By thy word rest easy and if so the world is sway'd in cause of man's ego and rage I shall soothe thy stone long the crescent moon above that fluoresces god's acre. Mine thanks Shakespeare, thou hast mine thanks. For us all I'll keep poetry and true lit alive for the greater good of humanity, for the sake of salience.
Sep 23, 2017
Sep 23, 2017 at 5:31 PM UTC
we are not atoms in the dark
we are not Adam's in the garden
we are not Atman's in the seat of kosmos
we are adumbrated sound, found in this form;
light in the n o w.
Jan 18, 2016
Jan 18, 2016 at 3:05 PM UTC
my father's home
the greyed blue tile of
the bathroom wall
and a caged pendant light,
a rusted mirror,
a rusted couch. and
only boxes were left.
the schoolboy,
his home
all that he told me of friendship
and of mountains climbed
all that he told me of kindness
and neighbours
and plastic tablecloths
and pastries made
and of the city
the new town
the village on the mountain
the struggle and the love
then came life.
then.
came home.
Oct 19, 2017
Oct 19, 2017 at 11:44 PM UTC
nothingness from Khaos:
us.
far-reaching apes
throwing complex
machines
at rocks.
Kosmos laughs.
Jul 7, 2016
Jul 7, 2016 at 9:22 AM UTC
By our means be true...
My love, let us not ever constellate these motions of energy by feelings so awry but espy wholly the constellations above by way of the frame, by way of the zodiac
With both self being visible and invisible,
O are we so sidereal
To which constellation should we deem our own dear beloved, as we do deserve such honour
This fair kosmos is the gift of our truth, and how shall we gage this ecstasy as the scroll of promise?
Shall I kiss you in ways, in places I’ve in much time had not
Shall we rove the waters of the cave of Melissani, and adore the reflection of ourselves as so the ‘Metamorphosis of Narcissus’
By the sweet nothings of our better coitus,
Times whether to rectify our own means or to sate the hormone
There can only be you Evictus, if my evictus
This love I have for you and the Earth beneath my feet is the infinity within
That is all that may define me if I worthy
You will see all of me, even if I am in a universe filled with men you well despise
So I say; this love shan’t ever fold for I knowst it true - as this great span held by wonder.
Sep 21, 2017
Sep 21, 2017 at 11:07 PM UTC