Journal 11-04-11 Choices and Decisions

I'm brought into submission by the quiet fact that repeatedly stares me in the face, the choices I make reflect the outcome I perceive. And these choices, there aims, intents; From where do they come? Are they my own need for more? weather it be relaxation, food to eat, pleasant surroundings etc. Or do they emerge from a deeper purpose, to be of service , to advocate the changes my deeper self longs to see?

It's very easy to be misconstrued, even forget the faces of those I'm talking too. It's difficult to be an individual that is often alone and pick and choose. Sometimes so many thoughts fill my head that I don't know which is essential. I wonder, do I have the courage to say what needs to be said, to take the necessary action? I know that I do, and that the universe provides accordingly to our actions and thoughts. Than why is choosing a path and direction so difficult? Perhaps because it seems to disclude the things I have already known and loved, the weight of one dream weighing another. Perhaps it is leaving an illusion of consistancy amongst ever-shifting conditions that shape me. I know that I have talents which I've placed value upon in the past, writing and it's articulation there of, a willingness to explore, and also a compassion for others. I also am aware of faults that hinder these principles, stubbornness, self-deception, becoming distracted and making the same mistakes.

I know that my life here is to serve a purpose and that this purpose result continues if I work with it rather than against it, even surrender to it's outcome throughout. I feel because we are always changing it's important to have a skill as a measure of consistency, or a basis of our actions. This skill for me seems to be learning planting and growth to eventually organically grow my own nourishment. This post fits more under a journal entry than poetry, but it's time for a change of pace on this bright afternoon. Until next time.

Peace & Love

Time's Flying By

All the time time is passing, flying, fleeing into living
I ask to be forgiven from judgement, criticisms
I fight take flight and fumble, try to be perfect and stumble
Hey I recognize you too in this interwoven jungle
That sometimes is a struggle, a journey like a movie
I find myself distracted by the beauty and it's cruelty

I hope to live it grateful, I hope to make it happy
I hope to know and have to hold so many friends and family
Your presence here it matters, your mind your eyes their fabric
From dreaded to ecstatic, purposeful and manic
This life is what we give it, our share of what's been handed
In youth I thought that truth lay in the burning of both candles

I hope to live it grateful so at the end I'm not left stranded
With less than love and laughter, a smile that is candid
I'm called by sense of purpose, I'm let go in humility
I look again and comb the map for soils of fertility
No folding to futility cause life is too short
To leave your sweet unique face from the image of my thoughts

I've already made a difference in the life's of friends and family
I see off in the distance the flowers of humanity
The flavors of a time frame, the work and also migraines
But all and all the freedom of the fruits in choices I've made
So let this please make my day, Envelop and define it
Signed and sealed in honesty and all that's backed behind it

Times Flying

Let's be Free & Joyous

Lets keep speaking until the silence breaks like shattered ice

Lets speak up about the faith and fictions we feel

Talking on the cusp of wind, the cup of life is carried

Freedom is not contained in words, in booklets, or actions

Freedom is your very self and all that surrounds

Wholly Free Let Us Be

Living Long Lives In Peace

Lonesome Roads

Lonesome road abridged by empty
Leaving trails both hungry heavy
Living on a single sentence
Eyes blink back relapsing heaven

... Stretching further, proper penance
Diving into un-tossed leaven
Feelings prosper, leave in seconds
Here I stand a lonesome peasant

Work with none to furnish fancy
Clenched fists with none too happy
All the signs negate the proof
Mirrors stare dead into you

Smiles are for the ripe and free
Roads are for the young and smooth
Lips are for the kissing booth
Deeds are for the well to do

Unclasped the cap from foreign pen
It's speaks it nerves in stuttered ink
I move and dive and write and think
These weighted lives of hefty things

Flourished cheeks on lonesome roads
Single Shrubs shelter the earth
The ray of sun beats down on minds
That see the substance hard to find

We walk and pace these dusty trails
Awake, At rest, and Half way home
The distant calls of faded past
Brings back a longing to our bones

Insane Boundary

I merged deep into the corridors of my own mind and body, so much that the connecting line of I fell away and left two arms stretching in opposite ways, relinquishing themselves slowly amongst waves. Infinity beckoned me into this incredible sense of open. What was left of my head popped into remaining view and beckoned further astray.

Where has it lead, this wandering hermit, that trails the borders turned boundaries, crossing each one. Where has the path best traveled with partners and left alone lead? What can I say with these words that merely fill crevices of curiosity, but believed by my wish alone to lead lone hearts where I stand.

My love, so deep and true, so fiery and consuming, so intrinsic to it's own sharing, so screaming ecstatic, but perfect in it's fair gentleness. Explodes throughout my cells turning them clockwise into star filled galaxies. My eyes like the thinnest tipped pencil trace the strands of milky way.

This loves intrinsic urge is to splurge forth, to share, the thought of separation juts into my body and stirs a great pain. Let all creatures know this feeling, this intense shine ringing high over the spheres of thought, merging deep below valleys of emotion. Here I am, Here I am, Here I am.

Here is my value, to explode each creature unto meaning, to leave each wave running the traceless girth of creation. To stumble and fall, poke and prod, create and destroy, only to open to further potentials of my tender streams.

Full forth I drink the blissful venoms
For in the wreathing effects
I find that which all have always sought to come to
I take the pain inch by inch, it's unbearable feel
I summon the storm with battled wounds and cries
Whose ravenging winds take me in
Finally to break, the center of the violent tempest
Reveals the foundation of my rest

Like a stone I cast myself into the dark
Sinking deep through arising pressure
The crushing oceans above
The blackened abyss below
This homeless stone goes on sinking
Arising from the bottom of this cosmic glass
Is a great light, shying away consuming dark
Where does it source? I am far from land
Beneath sites of eyes, beaches, sands that shift
As if by lack of mercy, my images of are torned
And memory is shredded from my skull
Oceans of light, boundless gifts, no mind can know
No label can name, No style can substitute
Utterly Absent in Sinking
Arises the Ineffably Full

Vision of Angels

Two worlds converge through the format of space
This sacred dance is seen by the angels
Seated in wondrous absolution
Seeing the creator as sustainor
Sweet spirits billions miles backwards
Know this benediction by and through rupturing currents

A holy daydream
Asking, what casts truth unto waves, this love proclaimed
Let us all sheer our pencils to lead, fearlessly usher our procession ahead
And know this is all ever existing.
I answer it's undying urge and say back to you
All in good time, good time within itself.

Seeker becoming Sought

Pure snowflakes melt in the sun
Pomegranates burst by half heavy labor
Butter melts atop burnt bread, soaking each crevice
Tongues meet the sauteed synergies of flavor
Carrots to cook bask in a still pot
Loneliness elevates by a kind gentle touch
Depravity washes south in an intimate caress
Developing souls sore to the peak of ones before
the butter and bread create flavor, carrots tossed to the side of a dish
The snowflakes cool trickle soothes parched lands
Hunger meets the absorption of a meal
Clasps & cringes dissolve through kindness
The pen soaks calligraphy into page once empty of creativity
Signing a statement of nonesuch
Seeing the seeker become sought

Journal 09-12-11

Flux fingers. Everthing is in such a turmoil of change for me. Sometimes in night the realization is os intense and both feet bask in the sun. Now I don't know, waking up I'm staring at the face of pieces broken. Within is something so mighty it sews the planet to space. I can't comprehend even a fraction of it. I just understand that each day more and more I see myself in things, there is this incredible vibration that trumps matter making it look shaky and distant.

What worries me often is the large gap in the concsiousness of myself and other people. For me if peace is to be it will be instantaneous, arising out of my own totallity, my own consciousness. For others it seems a sequence or series of events is needed, a sense of accomplishment. These are fragments, however that which is real slips my own comprehension. It can only be gaulked at and half explained, really it is much more than words can describe. Many great teachers understand and speak to inact the conscience of the listener, and guide him through a series of feelings and mental process in order to come to a clear gap, a steep cliff, in which to finally jump out into the unknown.

But this realization today has me feeling average, this waking up day in and out has me untied from ambition. I feel normal, I feel unamused, I feel without motive. What significance do my actions have? What have they ever had? What is important? Why am I here?
Do these questions find completion in every day living or I'm a segmented in action and completion?

Experimentation seems to be an option to go by, go out and live in these ways, joint these unattached portions with seeing/labeling/perception. Grow from these questions in the right way. I can feel so stuck in the mud with past knowledge caked to my grin. I can waver for an hour and a half without so much a consequence , it's time to spring into buisness. It's time to live no matter how unbearable it may be. Ask who you concern when you act, is it born from self love, or is it born from arrogance, vanity?

In the Woods

Ever quiet as a softly beating drum
The hearts thump magnified by ear
Mosquitoes drawing red nectar
On a concurrent stream
Scattered leaves laid waste
Flowers bride the sloped sides
Stretching 'cross as slender bridge
Partnered with peace & patience
A look leads to heavy delight

Approaching my peripheries
An animal large, swift, and hungry
Nibbling leaves, lightly snacking
In curiosity drawing closer
Elongated ears seek answers
Who is this guest in my woods?
I smile slowly not to scare
How amazing this is!

I love it here
Feeling natures responses
Wholly joyful in new findings
Alas to emerge from retreat
Slinging my bag across shoulders
This leaving is richer than coming
Footprints stamp the lone earth
Marking a pathway back home

The story of all unfolding from an empty will

Asleep at the wheel
I drifted through worlds as many as thread
I awoke to see how beautiful my creation was
There is no god, no character, all along only me
What happened? Time arose
Worlds were stepping stones recalled in it's memory
Faded now in the distance

Rants on Loves Essence

I close my eyes, long back, days, years, months stretch, I stated & had started this quest.

Cool silence, so tranquil, safe from the world. The heart lie under a thatched roof that may not get hot in the breeze and not grow wet under storm. I smile because I am hardly here, not nearly disturbed, distant from the phenomenal world. Silent is wrapping my mood as a child would feel in a cozey blanket or a baby in mother's womb. I am the arched plant enjoying gentle rain, shielded from the suns burn by rolling clouds, harboring trickling water through the stem, branching out to rejuvenate it's limbs.

Alas there is peace in a world of all conflicting
Here and now there is no boundary between me and that calm bounty
Peace has shown it's face
It's mellow eyes of light, soft stroking hands, gosling hair, taming the waves of this experience
Creating harmony, glowing, fragrant, with a soft smile
Happy nor sad, a cupped pair of hands permeable to water
Giving & receiving, foraging to let go, emerging & receding a running spring
Recycling, to and from the same source...

~~~

From this limited perspective, love is a strange thing, refuting label, needing no premise, only a gap, a tint, a space of silence to enter and expand, intoxicate & clarify. I feel, that in this love the battling worlds may merge & meet, there bellows & storms will ease and prosperity will reach full fruition. This love is strange, it has wrung me dry of pestilent sorrow, it has torn the limbs of jealous disapproval, while impregnating the seeds of humble patience. It has forsaken me with a prodding sting of these elements so I may know purification. Though I speak, it is not for teachings sake, nor praise, it is as a child gazes towards a lightly draped pool of lilies, that pull away so he may see his reflection skimming the water's depths. Imminent beauty, still lasting waters laying me to rest in the deepest corridors of blue.

Hands fold in prayer that collapse in persecution
In pains & pangs we leave our sheltered abodes
Through tepid plains and rolling hills
Hardened imagery and verbal quicksand
Wide & Far we March & Maneuver ...

There is a garden yet choked by weed
Whose plants poise perfection, and do not dissolve come winter
It is a field sewn by personal sorrow, with seed cracked to budding
In quiet tears, mute voices, and words unspoken
Occasionally we revisit this garden
To find solace, rest, and everlasting peace

In the bird laying song to the morning wind
We may hear a note of it's cool splendor
As a flowers fragrance exalts the air
But a touch of it's scent may greet us
In these aspects, a glistening garden can come into view

In the summers sparkling sun
In the first folly of spring season
In the impermanence of autumn leaf
In the cold crackle of winter chill
Each grants us opportunity, to again see anew

To see change as participle of growth
To see birth and death flourish the same
In moments like these we return
To those green shrubs withstanding time
Imperishable and always alive


I know that this poem will be torn by the flow of time
By hungry hands or face of impedance famished for truth
But it's message contained shall never foul, or spoil, or fade, or die
For it is free of time and transience
Born of transcendent impulse
It is a flower in this garden of love

A Letter to Myself

Calm in collecting my thoughts, There is no quiet matching that of a poet in the woods. Less his mind speak in arrangement. Here, each tree gives it's life to the land, leaves scatter the ground as a blanket would in colors of brown grey & olive. With feeling hardly stirred it is like a breaths subtle intake. I wonder, Is this seeking of reclusion just to find resonance? I look down & see old aims & goals tatter a mind. Life has shown me many things, may it never show me to be dull. As I relax in the shade of the idea to be a cosmonaut sent to ease the world-weary. Truth be told I don't know. With half a tear I think that one could find a home here amongst the oak & ash trees. Although in these days it's my acceptance that you must keep a balance between either or, in & out of establishment and nature, and it is such how the spirit moves. Form to formless, Uniformed to untied.

It grows darker amongst these creatures of wooden stature. But I wanted to write. Blessed be the soul with endurance to brave itself out. I see a long pathway ahead that will pass in an eyes blink. May the moments produce wealth for myself, my friends, and all spheres of life.

Written in Service,

Matt Earley

The pelting drops hang upon torrents
While rooftops deflect the running waters
We keep our hands folded in prayer
Drifting through these layers of storms
Our focus has gifted us wings to ride the storm;
Ascend clouds to collide with the widening sky
Finally to merge, like a cloud letting down rain
For earth to soak and swim
Sun to scoop and precipitate
The puddles dry, evaporating towards the sky
So we find freedom
Being one with the cycles of change

Deliverence

I look close, on the blended preordained

My seeing eyes do naught but receive

Like clockwork is the machine human

Whose second beauty is last found within

Deliverance, oh sons & daughters of Abel

A tourniquet solider has come upon you

It's lips curl stanzas, feet march forwards

Creeks of black velvet, surpassing sullen mistake

Sacral ember, deep voiced & meritorious

You calculate nothing, simply switched to working

Your hand strung synapses deny white noise

Music witnessing it's own composition, enlivened

Never have I stepped on ground so abundant

Never have I seen a lake reflect so impartial
What do these two mirrors adjacent perceive?
Beauty of an alter element, finessing tables of periodic

The Spoils of Sprit

Spoils of the sprit ooze through toils of the lyrics
Broadcast to the masses but a funny few adhere it
Earlier thinking on lines of self improvement, utilizing fullness of my being
White moon
Now in basics, beauty.
A comprehension of which lets the cumb drop to the floor
The tip of my mouth has forsaken words
Works are made from the impeccable silence
Solitude, service, even slavery
It's odd how we prevaricate the unharnessed dark
Sex without a partner
These are the effects of meditation

Point a finger at the moon, an eye to the sun
By all intricacy of silk sound & air
What borders life I'll follow with a red laced bag
Picking up parchments and artifacts to show others
Already my pace is a thousand leeps ahead
Those turtles stuck in the sand resemble home
Constant, for them, the brisk lay nowhere
I'll find something forever in the ever shifting
This hill I climb that kicks up dirt and exhales slumber
Foreign, distant, but much closer to history
If my mind unlatch than I may see it for it's worth

What borders life i will follow
Never faltering to bridge it's center to loose endings
Delving & Diving, I won't forget this impulse
Bridges require effort, extraneous and even stupid
But when a machine is self automated
A floor requires supervision, instinction, instruction
& often times conjunction

Love is the awakener, it's force rifts & spits
Taking risks, most often get off, covet gain, forget loss
If I were to say abandon both for the bounty, each country
Relies on another for contrasting works of wonder
Some summation others plunder, each and all receive wet thunder
Tides relinquish there waves to each shore, don't you see a sort of unity
A piece of puzzled eulogy, this type text get's confusing

Cracks Burns & Bruise, worn down tennis shoes
Good to spin and more to use, infallible detail
Printed papers of the news worldly woes & self abuse
Were developing so don't designate the death lazers quite yet
We take leaps and bounds with the stages lost
So what if it's a game, I'm still playing catch
So you say it's a dream from a space that has slept


And to awaken with effort is to push forward reset
Remain & accept, enlighten forget
Forge the polished whims to whimsical things
I'm wasted tasting on the fragrance of a day wholly lived
Drop a borrowed W, leave an L to forget

Embracing Death's Grasp

A gentle corresponding touch
A wreathed hand, and coarse throat
A tender friend for guidance
Death knocks and perches to wait
He tells you, Fear not, fear not!

Black garments entice to scare
Buried beneath is a subtle hand
This is a passage to travel
Dismounting from one worn steed
Worry not, Come swift and calm!

This robed stranger requires you
Lace his hand and plot a new land
You will know it and again smile
You will know it and again be shy
In your rejoicing with this character
Again you will be made young!

Just a Creative Spur, The heel swings left.

God... Removed.. From... Existance...

Not even. I walk and romp and flow. Seeing god in all living beings. We just need attention and friendship in order to grow in the flow. Believe in ourselves before the scores of heros that litter our thoughts. It's about us. It's about you. You are the most important player, if your scared you'll ease into it, slowly tap away at that solid fear, and find your own unique approach to the problem.
We are friends to existence. It needs us as we need it. Quite equally. Don't doubt in your potentials.
And... Fill the universal with your antiquity, you shy sun, you'll learn the steps I'm assured of it.

07-07-2011 Notes

Like your anger is permanent your granting it the time to germinate straight worries me
So were playing with perceptions they've been composted
Set your mind free suddenly love unfolded
A mansion for players & ballers a syndicate
Bleed for resonance, strain of intelligence
Transparency tips us as to heavens directions
Opening the white noises to fortresses
Innumerable doors await, to venture or waste
The empty halls open in our woven perception
Who needs it the personality caged in desire
Enraged when on fire, behaved while inspired
To coordinate the truth takes time & experience
End times were nearing so it's work turned serious
I enjoy writing & hyping up the blasphemous beat

From the frontal rimmed cortex to the bunny ears
Multi-Dimensional Vortex to moistened fears
*it's sincere, it's sincere)
Inspired by the songs that don't seem confrontational
Bilingual language that is stretching alms to the globe beyond curious nations
Beauty in expansion fission of the lighter flame
"Wish I weaved a tighter wig when it comes to this writing game"
NO need we read intention in this little hollow
Lost along the edge we may swallow
We cry for the dreaded like sorrow wed with wax and grit
Blasphemous as it sounds I rebound both my candle sticks
Sick stench implement, Love life's acknowledgement
Beauty blend like polished wit, heightened highs as chronic hits
SWOOSH
Let them talk while I plot my chart mark my maps
I remember my mistake & document known mishaps
Lapping their tongue in a begging bowl remain malnourished
Step into spheres of suns, rely on regions of rains
Nothing remains the same, all falls to profane
Until my task is done, Until masks are removed
All be living this day as though theirs nothing to loose
And I wrote this to sooth me & you, bridge of true
Even the weight of words shifts in time and world
I may just let the wholly light take me
ZZZZZZ

House of Mystery

God clocks spun in the minds of men
Pierced Passion that designed the pen
Okay Go So the Eye Begins
Un-sewn Cloth, Design the Hems
Ahead of the curve
Silver Suit Steed Sat
All within this house of mystery



With a willful work & a sharpened lance
Unearthly universal energy
My being, the being
All things give rise and take
It's taste, silently blissful
Foolish and nondescript
To die for...

Treasured Haikus

Soft & Pure night
Lying awake in it's cool depths
Rain drops hold love

Alight by moons mass
I'm forever indebted
Humbling of night

Time spills limit
Comparison falls and leaves
Precautions split

Stampeding horse
Even you have stopped to drink
Pure minds nectar

Infinite frames
Refreshed before abandon
This is true life

Flame and flow one
Embellished by negation
Here lies full peace

~*~

Computerized Future

I am a frenzied species
No end to my royal kingdom
Exalted by bandwidth of concaving lux
Dead eyes and stained lungs
Concrete and steel dicotemy
Manufactured imagry
Stung by fluids gasoline
Stuctured by electricity
Void of all simplicity

Future and it's means to breath
Future spelt without the BE
Coming soon as noon retreats
Catelogs craft all we see
Purple poistures bloom reciepts
Conflict costly struggle cheap
Indoctronate cells memories
Mathematic melodies
Dampened down for cryofreeze

Revolutions timely breed
Loses water dies as seed
A cry proceeds as lucid leaves
Damp as icicles dry as reed
As life is lived on passions curve
And science sims what will deserves
While each and all that will to work
Will earn a tune up and a twerk

Don't you see the narrowness?
As a window of our time
To find a stem that sources all
Immancipate the mind, is love so hard to find?
Is faith in such a bind, is all of you refined?
Processed and designed, programmed into time
Through tangents and cosigns
If yous a soul than cruise control
Cease to be an option,unplugging from the matrix
The metropolis indoctrinated, comes toppling

I wonder oh to often if we'll figure love unplugged
Before the drugs of war and worlds and words of untrust
I wonder oh to often if we wish to travel free
Beyond below between, above afar beneath
Reality alludes occurrences pollute
Sleeping at the wheel of a quickly burning fuse
Analysis of mind making Frankenstein of wire
Privacy rebuked for a fiber-optic fire
Number as principal, screenshots as proof
Someone will whisper, we've got something to lose

Encoded Dillution and Mixed Bag of Everything

Let it all be in the way it is, adhere to this, uninsured conflict
What can I solve, I'll switch the level
Fire burns on brick just to heat the metal
Solid is stainless, established, fluid as feeling, ether as ecstasy, gaseous as a killing

In delect in delight I verse my thirst prepared for white
As a god given right I chase the wolves away in night
Crested type wheedle wires tranquil peace leashed desire
As a creator I am willed, as an object I am zilch

Perhaps I point to truth in the dezins of arithmetic
Written lips equipped with this as elemental synthesis
In paying mind to simpleton I'm weary with regret
Sliding slither from the frets while the resonator slept

This is a game of shape, word, symbol & pause
Cold rain and a syndicated spindle of clock
What stays sharp will find it's way unto flat
Obsessions with the skinny grants predominance to fat

My mind is lineated, consciences destiny, ridden with complexity
Finished in trajectory, spinach filtered melodies, saintly gaps
That sect the seas, with all this said I cease to breath
The sprouted seed, and future leaves, and like the sun I do
recede a passing perch, a dying weed

Alive in greed lets face the fact, distribute by dim cataracts
My heart is ache, my push is fade, no charity to save the day
The song replies & I adore to recollect the day before
To introspect our timely needs and roll & flux as space proceeds
to wrap and drench the hand that feeds, a lonely man amongst the free
a closet closed with stolen key, a jury lacking defendee,
a child cheat from rosy cheeks
A mixed up bag of everything.

Many Forms and Shapes of the Moon

Desert Sands Eclipse
The moon forms a lit tongue
That speaks it's soft incandescent
Of powerful struggle moving masses backwards
While it's circumference fuses to transform
Shift and unshape, stretch in ways most abstract
Yet majestic, spiraling timelines with hollow imagery
Enticing the wants of spirits consumed
Swallowed souls through & through
Form the deathly hallowed eyes,  the lips quantum screech

I sense you as a king seated in the sun
A spoke of loves wheel-full spin; moving center
This god awful creation spawns, laying it's hand, drenching unease
A victim, no, a piece, a counter piece

That transfuses tonality and color; It's atmospheric odor glues hearts shawl
Heating degrees during a nights walk; blending hearts spoils unto itself

But the moon, all pervasive steals the sun and refracts it unclean
The culminating higher force, feeds fat in enchantment, than wholly disperses
It is not new when light again comes, highly aware of our comfort it pumps
Horror to edge us into madness. It's center unaltered from flowers withered.

The undead may be moved, tricked

Observant I watch it's crescent all but dissolve

Pearling from the light of distant stars

Waiting in waning and waxing

An enticing robber, with that borrowed light

it's altar decorates the skies height

I pear at the hanging rocks surge and retreat

Entrance me no more

Shift not my ways of living

Entrance me no more

{Phantom Moon))))))

The Mighty Ocean

I am the stream without drop

the flow that never fell into friction

the transparent river, supported by the ripple-less lake

To follow me one must leave, cast away

things of girth, to witness my hollowness

things of beauty, to explore my murkiness

things of pride, to adore my emptiness

things of definition, to plunge my abyss

Without tools of floatation, follow me

Fall into me and be immersed

for from my stream, one will meet the river

whose uproarious urge, draws, like a magnet the mighty ocean

It is in this endless beginning, this endless scope pristine

that can bridge both shores alike

Pan Flute Flow

Boy I swear I cannot manage the eternally savage

That swerve from there bad habits that germ in the addict

I said it seems too see through my eyes catch everything

Back into the eye rus blank papyrus Supplied us...

With a motive and means, I could run out a stream

Do you see what I mean. Oigo ve Oigo Ve

Now check whose got something more to say

To add to the tone turned to monotonous

I could resurrect bones on my fossil disk

Now I'm zoned, uniformed, in a form

Can you pixalate the eye of the storm

Can you stone the spirit who has survived turmoil

I sit with the sticks and I sink in the soil

That had grown grey gravy, Kissed Green Gaia

Sift Down Hit round mixed stiff saliva so that Imma

I'm the illest, I proudly proclaim

Cause earth's fertile turfs have denounced my name

So I stand stone, on the throne of the kings

That speak in a stance something they've yet live

Something so mean I have yet to forgive

Something so mild it's not even a sting

Something so mild it's not even a sting

Something so mild it's not even a sting

Something so mild it's not even a sting

And the pan flute beacons, it calls me out

To reverberate and rain down in a drought

I can't figure out what will poise the bend

Shit

Aint it funny how us meager men

Get to fighting get so frightened

Fire Lightning Washing waves of Peace

Constrict the sore till it tore the lease

Well this ones tossed to breeze

And the other whole piece sanctumed to the sea

I remove the plea, lose my luck of key, not guilty

Of the webs we weave, not guilty of the webs we weave

Of the webs Of the webs.. SO DESINOUS

Did I mention they are an extension

Of the slide show, divine show, I breath, exhale,

Time ticks set sails, did you notice through the whiskey breath, the journey isn't finished yet, the function of the ocean depths is to save the weary sole that lept.... floundered from his seat, into the sea of secrets kept, feeling the frigid, turned black in a minute, back to no limits, no limits, no limits, Forever Steady SINKING

The Agonizing Dissoulution is Compassions Force

Love is a clear inferno
A white flame at the hearts epicenter
That manifests as different colors
to different persons and cultures
at different time and dimensions
in different states
Even the oldest soul who has seen things vile and putrid
Who has played with thoughts of death and living is conquered

Sometimes my deeper self is discouraged
It sees the predicament of people through the trials one has gone through
The ravaging seas of death and sorrow, the stone calloused indifference, the suppression
They do not see it, they do not understand the magnitude of this simple thing. I write from the womb of my own silence. There are those who I am connected with in consciousness, those thems are you with both stems removed. This attitude of sacrifice and the blending of ones qualities. This hearts center that stretches in from beyond all things. It's creatures... can I not save one from the suffering of loving? I was once blind with this compassion, but I know I cannot speak of it, I place it here and there so I can assimilate it privately later. The innocence of the human spirit has been persecuted & murdered. So strong it strengthens itself in the look of another mountain, another containment, it crosses each canyon as though it had a bleeding urgent message.

Yes.. it's too much but never enough
My time and my energy are devoted towards her/she
She heightens my sense and abilities
The ache in my body and eyes quake
And my sincere sadness extends itself
Like molten lave from the bellows
Speaking like a broken old beggar
I outreach my frail hand with whimpering voice
"In my dreams I see you, In my dreams I see you"
Sick of the torn rags that burden my soul
I throw them in the fire of your sacrifice
The ground melts and again I fall
Into bottomless abyss, you want to destroy me
Well.. I best let go

Poets Congregate on Skype

J: I cant ignore this whore, who thrashes floors of density into my flesh deep
punches of rich thick old blood through the water clarity
J: such a fucken parody i swing my eyes ludicrous and done
M: Blood clotted in the iris, what I think manifests on papyrus
M: With a sensual sense of secret a soft and feminine
M: wishing to resolve individual flaws
J: breeding with festering blackness alive and thriving in vibrational heat. swimming to infest. diving to invest a love of the slimiest
J: stuck in the individual stuck in the individual
M: never stuck in this construct, never taken and forsaken as long as your vibrating
J: chorus
M: but the bottom of the muck is as fair as the heavens, so whats the difference?
J: with owl eyes abrasive blues long and cool legs
M: I sing the blues songs and strum upon a loose peg
J: but children and marching men inside of your psyche will charge at you, taken aback into crack worlds
J: pearls alone, blues on beach chairs, red cramming objects in cavities
M: yellow and lonesome pulled into clarity, the strange sting of sincerity, objects uniform and reshape
J: prisms activate, fellows of castles long ago chime in angelic floats,
J: distant memory clouds the nose with emotional hold, blows and folds
M: sunken in moats a crusted sea grove, old blacks turn and are sent back to the boats
J: coats, take the coats
J: mothers reminisce
M: I remember her as freedom that was suctioned in an instant
M: robes removed
J: trailed off in conveyor belts
J: chicken
J : the females frozen icicle breath purring on me
M: melting me as winter rolls into spring scent
M: wafted from the woman is the innocence
J: in a bottle quiet in dimensions of melodic grandma love
J: away from our pelting energies babies
M: soaked in a bathtub, scrubbed from the skin
M: relaxed to a small extent, calm air is rusted
J: left so vulnerable oh so vulnerable... as suds and flecks brush like the wave of city life
M: the lavender scents eerie like the cities might, But grass lay flat beneath the sitting lights
J: and purring warmth's follow the lighted trail to a boy, and the petals are embroidered within the tender network of hair.
J: subtle goddess lights dance
J: the rosiest warmest love swirls
M: breathing out of containment to the sweat of the world, the angst of new love
J: death is melted into tar infusions
J: no
M: a soggy incinerator of life speak
J: he holds a key with lavender connections so small but stronger mightier than the star he holds true to. patients plays on the radio. flows of the universe are within without doubts
J: soggy spelling
M: writing syllables as the sky translates light..
J: love is in the breeze. float on your stomach with me. touching our souls with sunlight silence. and bobbing flowers. our advanced knowings swooning in silent purpose
M: ether stretches further and farther until embrace is reached cross interstates driven, homes on the hillside, country living
M: the dark screen one reaches out to appraising and nourishing, straining and salivating, loving longing the same
J: the night sky smiles, wielding data of truthful bearing to heart
J: apples you never knew
M: returning stick as transfer to the sap of the cells, embalming aliveness in the still portrait of person
M: showing generosity as a cool pink
J: take my hand, and let the compassion of Christ compel sun and wind as one twisting into waves of stomach thwarting glory to the past
M: in a romance conjunctures as ink in the fine print of news, universally translated in the heart of breeds dying from flourish
J: the joy of smelling a rose, sends me into robust memories bold but non-clingy, lifts me into the lightest cloth. the rose soul braids the biology of my heart. I am she in humble bumble bee acceptance.
M: like its peddles, the rhythm of buzz brought tranquil, only a tepid whisper, a warm water flushed to a prospered posture, plush
J: yet a buzzing shot shoots through me. my brain is dominance, and this dog searches for a bug like him to envelope in and out to touch the endless iris. melting into knees. peas
M: tendons snap and brisk iterates, what is this now flown past figure and formula, let me seek , let me see and rest
J: i pet the statues whom have stepped up in paradoxical fancies, they love the whispers. that gently caress them inside
~~~
J: let me feather into rest as well. hands and feet and fingers and toes in my third eye. pondering them sweetly
J: with lava
M: like yogurt soft, instilled in need of cinnamon
J: gorgeous matt...
J: (bow)
M: from where does a flow so subtle and suiting come ((bow))
J: its comes from your heart
M: yes that was graceful
M: together
J: be proud and blessed... alot of men of earth and women are not connected with it
J: that was beautiful :]]
J: (inlove)
J: haha
M: hehehe twas
M: i resist going back to normalcy

I am that I am

I'm not entertained by all contained
This is how I enter tame
Fissures fusing in my brain
Love & pain without restrain
Did you hear my voice or name
I'm the whisper in the rain
I have no shell, I've wore it out
I have no cloths, I've burned them all
I have no home, to carry doubt
Not even this to point it out
I the one without constrain
The one who sets the soul aflame

Journal 3/27/11

It's becoming more difficult to explain myself with words. The proper adjective, or the word best to describe how I feel alludes me. Currently I have woken up from a nights sleep and I feel something, although not tearing me, longs to be expressed.

So strange when I spend time to open myself up to things further to see what I really am. What I consist of beyond thought, an ever unfolding space or lightness. But still I feel so strange like I'm losing something like there is something for me to do that I already know, It's only a matter of devoting my time and finding what to spend it on. And indeed time is an opportunity to work, to spend in an activity and to quicken my functioning to that activity.

Is any of this sincere? The pace of which I write only skims the service while a slower writing would plunge the depths. I've concluded we are not individual, we do not have a set of quality but rather contain all within ourselves, every potential, everything perceived or sought after. All the dissapointments, the history of humanity. This is such an immense find and it signifies so much. What is the roll of someone who understands this fact. It seems unearthly, yet there is no longer anyone to explain, there is no other. I could use some direction. Wrapping myself up in writing as an excuse for prolonged instinct.

Space heightens, the ceiling of thought is distraught and folds into infinity
Chakras spin and throw off the dust of centuries
The habitual ways go south and an incredible speed is revealed
A speed that cannot be liven up too, increasingly glorious
Relationships to the world are vague and strange
Distant but never denied all together
What does it mean to open to these shifting skies
To die in the moment, to love like a golden axim
At the same time action is an apple seed lodged between mystery and understanding
Far beyond a given system felt as an extreme in a simple action
Channel this intuit poetry, find the gem, expressith
No longer can I hide I must resume activity
No longer can I type I must depart for "work"

I'll tell you of a peace

Sometimes I want to go and leave out into non-exist
Would anybody know? or even give a shit?
This life for me is cold, why do I do this to myself?
My breath is fire to the flame, and I'm about to melt
I remember all the times that my heart meant nothing
A heart turned pure meets a world worth stuffing
I wish these people knew how much they needed me
That I wasn't just a piece of anothers scenery
While propping up the false, those things of little worth
I'm peeling back these scars to show me where I'm hurt
Yet I wobble and I fall my fibers wear so thin
This world is just a hoax, utterly limiting
Don't let it wear you down, don't fall into it's smoke
It's fleeting and it's lost with translations of it's hope

What kind of good am I, if you can't connect with me
And tears that balm my eyes can't suffer this disease
To give myself to love in a land that harbors none
That quivers and than dies with the light of little sun
Who stoops into my look, who harnesses my heart
Who honors to be done, as life crumbles apart
This virtue and it's scorn is all to much to ask
The mercy of the lord that cannot cure the past

And every path is worn, and every mind is tired
And all that live are crying and burning by the fire
With blisters on there feet, they walk without a doubt
And whispers of deceit plan and mark there route
No impulse in my wake, No fiery in the storm
What's created takes the place
Of an undisputed yearn
Whose mouth is dry and chapped
Than have him so be fed
But expect him little sleep
Among the hapless dead
Who weary in their ways, while singing of their laws
Who wake only to moan and issue fresh resolve
To never understand and seek a sight that's true
With letters and demand so they will beckon you
Forgetting of your deeds the moment business' through
These rainbows in the sky will grant one little hue
A penny worth of pity, a smile that's sewn from cloth
Yet protest you in trial and point out all they lost
And pacify themselves in books that others quote
Than pixalate their fame to reinforce it's scope

These processes are taint and a shame to who are free
Yet I'm angry at the fact that before I willed to be
Devoting energy to a sequence and a search
I resembled men like these that do nothing but deserve
There's so much to unearth, each motive and it's cause
Yet I'm tired and I am hurt from everything I solve
An innocence benign, and inner scent is wafted
And suctioned down the street than melded to the day
The frequency of few could it be adequate?
To manifest in you, the mute compassionate?
The serpent slithers tongue, will you faint under it's gaze?
The decision's left with you, I ask how you'll behave
To face the hues of gray and dimensions of this time
Or position to a post not straying from it's line
Is tinder with you still, than light a match and burn
Dispatch capacity of all that has been learned
Cause yes the odds are slim, and yes the climb is steep
And yes the gap is wide, and nothing comes with ease

Yet all the strength I own will lead me to my feet
With a back laden with stone through the gnashing of the teeth
We'll make this world a home, and bring about an ease
Some spirits speak of doom, Ill tell you of a peace
A poet and his feast, a wind unto the east
A bloom unto the heart, the few that mind there speech
Of mercy and it's might, the dross of old appeal
Denounced like leaden suit, an exposition of the real
The firmament and faith, the drop that carries truth
And casts itself as proof to the waters that pollute
I'll speak from satin tongue, your conscience than will shift
And shuffle through and sift, it's tangled web of mesh
to suffer through it's mess, and claim the consummate
Your figure and it's breath become predominant
Your fingers and their flesh they move without a hitch
From toe unto the head you network all of it
The flow of whats been felt expressith so the gift ~*~

Written by Winter Storm

Carry the torch of heart
Like summer heat stains the skin orange
And the blue ocean sweats as exhalation
The movement of life and time bridge in well being

Creation spawns and old obliterates
New buds & saplings grow from the tree
The season shifts so many cycles and still the earth turns
One day it will be not so
The grandfather planet that has seen so many specimen
Housed and homed plenty phenomena will understand
and resign to it's own will of space, leaving from life
Calmly and without rush
Carried on by the infinite oceanfront
Washed upon the belly of white idea
And worked into a cell of intelligence
Remaining for endless durations in closed case
I stumble upon you today & forever more
For I am you and you me
And we all carry the same representative
that quiet voice in our hearts that speaks like earthquake
That honors death and the crimson tear of the soft spoken song
That collapses to aid us in the eyes of persecution
Who grows upset at the faded flower foregoing a lavender scent, and understands still that it must be so.

This sustaining cycle that is wicked and beautiful both but more so plain and fair. The scribes of love await the coming of dawn, and the knower goes into night snows to harness his peace. For in morning it will be figured, weather wared, breakfast cooked. The smile lines the faces of the young while the stern contemplate matters of manner. And before one is old he is ancient, another is old but a fool yet . Blending, bleeding, signed by fashion. Life.

I Honour the One Who Perfects the Self

Through Dramatic & Traumatic experience you see the deep significance of your relationship with self. You learn care and self respect not from a book or an enforcement of behavior on your life, rather as a natural uprising and intrinsic part of oneself. And it drives one, an unceasing knowledge to know and penetrate into ones self and sit at the throne of ones self exaltation!

The freedom and lack of resistance, in non-desire you have nothing to do but relax. You have success, you have beaten the phantom self! You have reclaimed your power of wholeness & wholesomeness. The old roots have been ripped and you are remain the open spaces in soft soil for those waters of rejuvenation to pour into. Allowing the deepest seeds of your potential to sprout, take new roots and flourish in the grounds of selfless service and goodness.

You are an honor to your fellows and an archetype for there aims. You have exampled the finest, non- threatening and pristine. Creative and compassionate. Ingenious and original. Through the torrents of despair you have claimed the sweet treat of the sustainable self. Peace be with you as the wind guides your back to a beautiful befriending with the hand that feeds you your nature.

You have carried the torch through the jagged mountain paths and set the summits tinder ablaze. Such a note worthy flame, such a heroic aim. The angels applaud while the earth and it's inhabitants swell with pride in their spirit. You have come & came back to the center of your own innate perfection. Blessed Be. You are Free.

This is Fun

I speak from the one voice to all that have ears. :)
As we follow each other it differentiates less and less. Allow yourself all three of these, freedom, forgiveness, forgotten. Forever rolling on the empty planes of being. Float from sand tides of distance, scape of movement and delicate staring. :?
I'll just put words on page.
In retrospect god is the indivisible reality where life pulsates and spins. How does it happen? How does it approach is a better question. Any moment your guard is down it will hit you. Every minute your heart is pure it will love you. Any moment your head is full it will spin you in a circle that only a madman appreciates ;-) Or is it the speed of intelligence and response that an Olympic athlete carries into exercise? Just two standpoints in the stadium.
Love is mad, it is not articulated, who charts it? Itself to it's source. Who monitors it, who disciplines it? What can you oppose on it that is not of itself. The ego responds and responds only to the disconnect. It is up to you to find loves working on yourself. Don't be afraid to melt. Just a warning. :) And from ashes and firmament comes a basic element that can more easily suffer to molding. Love of self is no love at all.

Kind of Cruel , Lonliness n' Things.

Felt like writing something this morning the moment that I woke up. Lets talk about time. Things keep moving for us all and I keep dying and reopening myself to life. The days leave into the night than get enough of those and a season comes and leaves. Surrendered to those currents as If they would take me to a place more happening, or a place more enjoyable. It seems they lead me to where I still exist, after the movements, after the exchanges, the depressions and bliss. Some wide sense of aloneness. A fact that I am the only one here. That few and far between have seen the point where I have reached, and if I were to meet one like me. Than I think there eyes would be so far removed from my aim and conception that It would possibly double that sense of alone. I don't know who I am and this lonely sense makes me a stranger to myself.

Theres those in the periphery, that see in terms rather than colors, and see the emotional side of life through personalized reason. These are the ones that know me well and when they greet me are so certain of the reaction they'll get. "I've seen him many times, I know his name, I know his field of feeling." These people are the ones that do not notice themselves taking a step forward. For if they understood this law than they would ask me things at least with curiosity and listening in them.

So I continue to walk and look, talk and answer. Show interest in the things that my heart moves me to live and describe, taking time of leisure here, learning something in this movement and always transitioning, forgetting and losing. Living a life alone has not always been an easy thing for me. I face so many challenges that noone can see. Though I'm faced with the fact I must use my guidance to create around me the proper conditions for anthers development. That I cannot give up what I hold at the top of value, this one that cuts me down to build me up. My very self, after all this time I still hold in tender truth.

And this is strength, not those punks you see on the streets with there shirt sleeves removed. Or the one with the strong stare under a pair of fashioned sunglasses. There is more strength in the bleeding heart of a woman who cannot rise above the ceiling of her brutal husband. More strength in the boy that is of minority seeing clearly his lack of a home. More strength in the old man who spent his life in devotion to his wife, his wife who is now gone. The cloths and images we carry weigh pounds if not ounces, while the heart impregnated with loss holds the world. So before you assume, denounce or expect. I hope you dig into your shallow pockets and see what the coins you hold are worth. Before you plan another trip use that simple function to move on the windshield wiper so that the snow and dirt from yesterday (you call it knowing) is cleared off your window. See yourself before you speak to me, for it's commonplace for a dog to approach someone wanting food, but it's a rarity to see a human in humility asking for love. ~*~

The Sun Shines Through Me

Flooding over passionate boundaries
The tide is gone over finished squelched, DONE
I'm standing in the center of an oceanic sky whose currents are ripping gentle
Burningly sensitive I wave myself from the dress made of crumbs and slip slide like a banana into rebirth
The high octane liquids. The fire and flame!
The ashes of restrained and pained existence.
Oh... It's all to much it is
But If you know than theres no problem just a sun.
The undying pleasure that makes the senses heighten to muteness
A conceiving of the retarded!
Never ending yellow gold liquid bliss kisses

Ways of the World

I welcome this world, throwing me bricks of truth, never giving up hope on my weakness, bringing them back into scope till I round there corners. So many times if up to me the lessons would be learned for free or cheap, but society knocks with it's bundles of expectations, its shrill voice and prodding hand of bone only beckons me to see I have locked myself in my own home, cornered myself into ideas and given label to wonder.

May this world come through till I can hit it as hard with the lucidity It has given me as a gift, for the world has built the cathedral that stands in the middle of a dilapidated city , the hall with the portraits of men who were monoliths. Only such a place, showing self evident stops, could carve out a worthy hero willing to transcend and change it's nature.

Reaching the Womb

The last spec of sand hits the bottom of the hour glass
The eyes droop and move downward in motion
The hearts rhythm slips incrementally
Sliding me a sentence ill to hold
There is only a matter of time in a day, days in a year, and years in a life
To forget all and everything
Mathematics and stimulus of all sorts
Many conjunctions and similes
Moonbeams converse at a certain point
Mountains slope to meet the basin of the tides
Mammoths and Dinosaurs drink to leave the earth
Evolution remains a matter of wonder
Every now and than actualized by a sincere studier
Eyes in the sky study all each detail a color or painting
Each painting a mold to fall back to oceans uncapped
Enchanted by nothing but it's own look it stares steady
Soon the moon mountain and that which bases in the earth quakes
Suddenly leaving the moment betraying thier forever assurance
Ships sink so do frames of time, states of mind, all desires unwind
Sifting by itself, for the sake of the laws translated and scribbled
Seamen of the seven cast down there nets with no opportunity biting

Its true

Life perfects itself for itself of itself
Lusciously unforgiving stealing and shifting the playing boards
Laughing when the level surfaces extends into it's all-pervasive domain
Lying back into it's bossoms one sees the ambilical chord that holds this life
Laid out in the womb I am drenched in the oceans embryonic love
Drawn again into the stomach of the universal mother
Darkening days through that thin bodily throat
Dreaming all of the time as I weaved through the stomach
Drinking from something deep as its coolness becomes part of me
Dieing to something strong dropping it into digestion
Now I am in an open space
Near the size of limit in a cosmic lava lamp
Networking and feeding me with its pulse and blood
Neurons rest in fire while the heart restrings and beats
Narrowed into the mind is a question-less answer
What works to create in this moment
Waxing the moon, working the human face in it's memory
Welcome fades and faints back into it's wisps
Wisps trail off and there again I am
Where will I be than when this chord is cut
Since all stems to me from it
Since all given moves and gives back into it
Slice this connection and I go adrift floating beneath times birth
Sliding in and out of what I cannot dream nor construct
Slipping from all domains what can remain of me?
There are shifts of identities that I myself do not welcome
There are roots into maths and sciences, of implausible mechanics
There and here is the being that houses me all
There is no questions of validity or reality
There is an emptiness void of all

You are My Quiet Voice.

To me you are all, yes you are as white and blank as the unused page in a notebook, but your fabrication isn't pulp from wood. It is not the refined metal that a king rules from though by idea is closer. High in scope, broad in sight, my words fall and come back like mighty rapids. Again to fall, having each droplet become a silent tear, dripping from my eyes, caressing my cheek, burning my neck and landing within the target of my heart, instantaneously exploding. Again and again you tear me apart to expose my rawest part as yours, you claim me vicious. Karate chopped, sumo slammed, beaten thwomped and womped.

But mother mercy I am no fool to be continually deceived. You treat me as you have to. You only do this so I might behave to learn of you, to see you. After the fight and my resignation you slide from your cloths and nurse me to health. You restore my faith, and bridge my emptiness. I take the time to thank you and your ability to heal. You tell me secrets and I laugh. The fairy tales are new each time, and again I'm enthralled to listen and believe. Warming as the kettle on brick stovetop. You feed me faith. In a week i will be here to hug you, to talk with you and learn about how to improve. You are no enemy to me mother & sister. I don't have to fear your ways or try to conquer, but just to understand.

How will I fill you?
With empathy & listening skills.

How will I mold you?
Gently, through deep listening and a tender tongue.

By having faith in myself and loving myself I can entrust another with this delicate gift. I can smile without guilt and I can cry without shame.
I know there is good in me, beyond manipulation and aggression.
I believe I can bridge this and be better for myself and others

Seeking a Sage

Floundering in the seas of wanted company
sincerity strikes and knows
the little voice, seeker of consolidation
tho the consolidator may not walk the obvious paths
with familiar signs, deals, and bargains
for it is one that keeps his road broad but mind in contemplation
who has little need to taste a thing twice
those who seek find, but not always by cause or collection
if the man on the roadway can not give it will you stop search?
your gaze will only shift to something more admirable
and more so to notice what was there all along
felt in your hearts first fiber
the funny tickle of creation

Estoy Enfermo en su Casa

I'm sick
with an overgrown soul
looking blight at the task at hand
weary of what's next to do
but what I do today effects tomorrow
it is a line of sorts
And today I am alone at home
wishing for contact, longing for love
with such beauty prostrated
I only gaze and imagine
as the moments slip I retreat from the mountain
escaping into the solace of self
the dreary outcome of moments unlived
And whether a tower is constructed
or one slides away to a lower outcome
contact has been made & committed to the soul
so that in time, when it youthens, as it does
there will be another point of wisdom for light to pass
these I do not consider blocks

For Your Personal Enjoyment

I left the crowd because they were not with me they mocked me they didn't understand what i was feeling. Compassionate eyes burn but unrecognized they are inverted and they heat ones forge so hot that a pair is producing the most precious metal, shining perpetually brilliant.

Who contains the sword that scares away baddies in a glance, that carves through bad intention. Conquering fear with it's welcoming. When it's wielder trips on jealousy, the jealousy that is improperly pestilent; The jealousy that scampers off dusting your carpet with chemical stains. The wielder gazes, feeling out his opponent and through extraordinary magnetism, the creature is frozen, it's greenish black coating begins to sizzle under a steady stare, bubbling, boiling, tossing in torment.

The sword glows it knows it's being fed. drawn from a leather Indian sheath, embroidered with a phoenix & butterfly. Transformation becomes evident... what was jealous & once treacherous is now pale and venerable, almost raw flesh. The sword wains in color outside of its sheath but when lifted starts a flicker.

Stopping for nothing, arms extended, sword in hand, a powerful thrust into the heart of the creature, in a second it is split, a flash and its body is ash. The sword is hot white and it's prey has left not a stain but an ambient glow like a crescent moon. From concentration and fight the wielder of sacred sword is exhausted.

Falling from fatigue yet is grateful in his triumph, is grateful for his sword, and is awestruck by its glow. It's glow is not ordinary it is not mediocre but strong, unworldly it is. By and by, through many battles, hate, irritation, the wielder can distinguish between himself and his arm less and less and less. It's radiation & familiar quality floods his veins and centers in heart.
It has come to him through steadfastness, through hard devotion, and sacrifice. Many battles have been fought. From boy to man and man to god... A champion and his sword of love.

What do you Need?

There is a game that too often I play, if you were to play this computer adventure you would create a new character as your first step. You start at a rouge encampment where there are villagers to assist you. There is a blacksmith, a armor selling gambler, a traveler, and a woman selling you potions that nurse your health and mana.

This woman is old and appears like a witch, draped in a purple robe. As you approach her to speak she steps towards you and asks in a voice that is both knowing and deeply enchanted. "What do you need?"

What do I need? what does the collective need? What does the mind need to nestle and be free? There is something in me that detects the energies it is saturated in, the fields and the subtle thoughts, the wishes of an individual, also there contrast with my sensing of the world. Usually a response comes upon these readings/sensing to provide that which the other needs, wishes, or lacks. A dwindling couple needs a passionate love, a sad girl wishes a sweet dream, and a lively boy requires a large stage to show his success and abilities.

I see we do not only provide for one another, there is a far larger, and deeper intelligence that understands and recognizes these urges and provides, from the depths and sometimes the bowels, love is significant part of this intelligence, love always fulfills in the end. Send it out when you have it, to all around you, it can well in you and craft a fine glow, consciously let it seep into the hearts and minds around you. Let your hands warm and your feet as it flows out these passages, knowing very well you are setting the conditions for your contents to come to this unspeakable thing.

A Testimony to the Conflict the Grows and Bellows

We must turn towards building a stable conscious. Understanding of another, of ones own functioning in relation to another, in relation to nature, in relation to the whole, to the 100s of polarities we experience. In this lies a real conscious not based on ideas or words of virtue but something solid, something actually, something undeniable, total, and compassionate. Conflict grows and sprouts in the fields of unexamined psyche. Our deeper relationships with people, the conditions we create around ourselves, and the ability to follow our spoken examples can be the only judges of our own progress, not past achievements, who you "know", or what visions you have. With that being said some poetry cast down from a warrior spirit. (In need of some editing for accuracy)

They can lock me in a cage but my fear is not of death. Because every day I face it to the point theres nothing left. Satan lives within us whats unacknowledged and ignored. Its when the world is torn with conflict that this inner I'll explore. Bombs have dropped murder of hearts, the lack of all conscience. Wars are born and built upon give firm root to violence. As spiritual death is threatened most will flinch and shut there eyes. Conceal themselves in crevasses making them hard to find. I'll rise up from the dirty plains, polluted waters, with this flame. With it the meek will be ordained. With this a man will reach his aim.

Outer War is the circumference to our inner most depths. Because the mirror serves one function and that functions to reflect. You might argue that it's pointless, that the world cannot be saved. But I feel responsibility a real man has to brave. So remain as you are, next to me but still afar, and speaking of beauty without knowing anything about it. And walk your own way, with this mind full of virtue and a heart full of thorns, in this world that is torn.