Life is something that can never -truly- be caged and bottled. Something holding no familiar territory, yet it can be sold in seconds, with just a glance. -----> ... Thoughts trickling towards a stream of pastimes [past times] and anxieties... ... Pours out into an open surface of actions paired with despair... The scene is set among characters… Continue reading The Butterfly Effect
no need for an alter ego, let that go, no longer is defining a limitation.
Creation of space, Creation of sound, Creation of who, Creation of now, Relation to me, the birds see how. Look into the eyes of a forgotten frown. Welcome to Pleasantview, Welcome to noise, Step into followship, Step into ploys. Reverse the signs, Sign the reverse. Green mellowed lies-- you leave on verse. Spell the name,… Continue reading The Autumn [Winter] Queen
Radiant is thou, wafting through the forest, I remember the time we pranced around fellow tourists. I judge when I live, so I think while I breathe, I dislike a taste for negativity, & question my pity for the green— Where are the echoes? Must I always pick up on the universal radio? Over &… Continue reading Will, Son!
Life is a paradoxical state of mind— A state, in which, one can simultaneously experience a sense of inner-connectedness and communion with others, while also, experiencing a sense of solitude through the natural separation of matter into specific physical forms. By recognizing our duality within our multiplicity, we establish a society of consciously-connected human beings,… Continue reading New Age Wasteland
Pauses & stops, plus maintaining grip, moments arriving, bliss in movement! When along with the music, a dancer, She glows, with a sense of eased time, and a depth of unknown. Calm and blithe, plus fulfilling all flown! --- We remember! And, so we thank those who move to the rhythm of their own soul.
Fleeting acceptance, make me your witness, force me close with the arms atop your eyes. Correct my mould with the fingers from the sky. Reverse my order, and "Repeat machine." Look in my eyes, my mouth becomes mean. Atop the surface of a Holy little hymn, Atop the Earth, I join the corps of… Continue reading Number: January 3, 2009
I wish people knew: the person behind the eyes was never created to become a freckle of their past.
Somedays come & go, without pointing to the next, so, I huddle down low, & break at the crest-- A waveform of a person [a being I love] --To me, is so beautiful, I shall repeat so for the above. To be so sweet, all of divine, blossoms forth from boulders, & fractals,… Continue reading The Power Grid
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