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