Prior to intent, in the unmanifest,
where creative will of God reverberates,
in us as the Monad, in peace and at rest,
the seed of desire in our heart then gyrates,
bringing about creation at God’s behest,
enacting its role till the desire abates,
whence heart quiescent it returns to the source,
in time dissolved stillness without use of force.
Ego indulgence is a brainchild of mind,
which labours within the matrix of space-time,
so to be free, head and heart must be aligned,
whence all that is then left, is God’s bliss beat chime,
melding with which, ego cravings are declined,
that all nodes tango dancing, conjure a rhyme,
enabling us then to reclaim Monad’s light,
which mirrors God’s heartbeat, throbbing with delight.
Closing eyes listening to my surroundings
With words in the mind that can't come out
A feeling of danger sinking under water
Grasping with an intent to.follow the words
Help, please help I need someone close
The feeling of free flowing fall, or just an abyss
Deep rooted in our chest craves the moment
The relief of one consciousness driven down
The ora of ones pain becomes all
The worst of all it becomes that experience
Shake, shaking deep within tugging the soul
Pain rivals through and through instinctively
Opening the door to a new life and goal
But when you open your eyes
Your pulled back to reality and begin
Begin to do what Humanity is suppose to do
BREATH!
he crept in to watch the princess sleep
his intent was evil at first
but then he fell in love
tiptoed out
Our
resolve
to ascend
as we applaud,
let us not forget
that prior to intent,
which fixated our focus,
we had no sense of direction,
as we floated rudderless at sea,
alive and yet in a comatose state.
It is God’s will that drives higher actions
gentle love and light sans use of force,
so though He does dwell in our heart,
our free will must choose to pair,
with bliss divine sublime,
whence doing nothing,
blessings in-pour
and our path
becomes
clear.
With these hands
I. Thee. Please.
If you’re going to poke the bear, poke first, with ferocious precision.
- Chris S Conn
You are horrible, you let me down, a simple task you turned into a nightmare.
You were always bad, you had no heart, I tried to let the first of your attack on taking my love go, but you continued on.
You were always no good, I even tried to smooth things over, trying to put aside any ill feelings I had.
You are horrible, you are rotten to the core, you lack good and truth, and all that is true.
You should have never allowed ours to mix, now we have a soup mix, if you cannot act like a human for human's sake, I can’t imagine how you treat strangers you must hate them even more.
God tells us to forgive, that in the end he takes care of all. So, we shall see how it goes, I will remember all the mean and cruel ways you behaved.
Lifting prayers to God, today and always.
Is not creative impulse fed by need,
to give shape and meaning to a lost mist,
seeking solace for our heart that does bleed,
yearning to be by rhythm of bliss beats kissed?
Spontaneity is but a buzz word,
for is it not preceded by intent,
born of the unstruck sound by our soul heard,
to which childlike innocence grants consent?
We rest thought to transcend limitation,
yet in this realm it is the preferred tool,
to translate in symbols, each sensation,
refrains replaying on memory’s spool.
Renewal continual ebbs and flows ~
Thus in the pregnant pause, light of soul grows
There’s an all girl band called “S1ut Intent.”
They’re real headbangers which I can't take much of
but I LOVE that name - Ok, let’s write THAT poem..
S1ut intent, that’s what it was.
It was shamefully late
and the lights were on
but all else would have been torture
With marriage-like consents
and sharp cloyless appetites
we joined in love’s witchcraft
and bestowed our pleasures
entangling quite forcefully
was an antidote to the daily,
the pared-down and neutral
and once the torch was out
the epilog was stronger
than contentment
.
.
Songs for this:
Kiss by Demi Lovato
The Way I Love You by Jorja Smith
Little Sister by Ellie O'Neill
Before creative impulse arises,
poised in time stretched peace of stillness sedate,
tidings carried by God’s will apprises
our presence to embrace its destined fate.
Living in the now, we simply allow,
the rising and subsiding of life’s tides,
trusting divine magnetism to endow
our form with bliss as in the void it glides.
Knowing all is one vaporises will,
that flowing with ease like the wafting breeze,
sipping soma nectar to our heart’s fill,
no demons remain for us to appease.
Having left erst fears and desires behind,
with ego exhumed, no fetters now bind.
DAWN'S FIRST LIGHT
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
silence at daybreak.
sacred encounter with the Divine,
a conference of heart and soul.
beyond form, beyond language
heart beats, an echo,
a pulse vibrating through the silence.
wordless intent,
unvoiced
yet profoundly clear~
a stirring,
a flicker of grace
captures the dawn.
my soul meets God's pulse
I am led
I am unbound.
soul ascends
Poem written for Prior to Intent Poetry Content, Unseeking Seeker, sponsor, July 30, 2025
From darkened forms of little thought
a fog of unknown dreams
desire a feeling
A fleeting thought begins to focus
a dream, a plan, a scheme unfolds
Did the subconscious create intent
Or did past knowledge weave a dream
Did experience create intent
Or did the mind's unknowing dream explode
Was a warm glowing field.
I remembered it by scent.
Holographic thoughts formed
Like liquid beneath me, and I drifted
Through a blizzard of desires,
Impulses, and intuitions.
I was a knave, naive every time.
I sat there and got dizzy over
Ways to make spinach
So my kids would one day eat it.
her presence at first sight
an illumination
something I didn’t understand
she stirred imagination
a current ran through my body
and whatever stirred
was beyond comprehension
an angel, perhaps
I watched
as she checked into my life
and disappeared without a word
but she lingered in my mind
a constant stirring
until the next time
when I said hello
Heart
intents
that love flows
in the veins and
soul absorbs all pain
shadows of past dislimn
ushering to a future
of innocent naiveté
where the infinite horizons meet
as the circle of life and death completes
Placed fifth
Prior to intent Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Unseeking Seeker
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