INTERMEDIARY REALMS
exotic
eccentric
naturally
sophisticated
familiar
elegant
self-sufficient
every-day
personified
the
singular
visionary
responsive
reflections
distinguish
assimilation
then
cultivating
wonder
love
&
liberallity
throughout INTERMEDIARY REALMS
A haunted cathedral
a cold gust down the spine
The priest seen wandering restlessly
An indispensable intermediary
between God and man
Celibacy involuntary, deep depression
He took his own life
Doors open and close
Floodlight in the tower at midnight
Two hundred and eighteen stair steps
The bell rings seven times,
the light flashes ...
a female figure dressed in white
with a flower bouquet in a paper cuff
brothers want me to be an intermediary
their argument loud, their voices did carry
in between the two is not where I want to be
why does the family always turn and pick on me?
YouTube has a plethora of spiritual videos
Pseudo gurus haven
Most of them are out to make a fast buck
Aided by grave faces unshaven
Let’s take the Tantra energy path for example
With a view to energising chakras seven
Esoteric forced practices are proffered
These gurus promising to take us to heaven
Be wary folks and use no intermediary
For God dwells in the cave of each soul’s heart
If we be pure, childlike and gentle
Assuredly one day we will feel bliss ignition start
Kundalini, Chi or Holy Spirit as divine energy is called
It is not something external to our innate being
Path to ascent is simple but ego cravings complicate
Clear seeing simply requires with throb of love agreeing
HIS FINGERTIPS
HIs fingertips brush over my shy cheek,
Softly plethoring an array of wordless sound
Into the unresisting ear.
We two no longer strangers meet
In a tactile encounter where
The way leads meandering
Through in pleasure
To an unashamed portrait of paradise.
"Come, taste and see that it is good",
Indeed the nectar of a thousand blooms
Will not be as thirst-quenching
As the hidden walled garden we inhabit
For ourselves alone - an abundance
Of colour and hue invading our senses.
We linger in the centre of things,
To draw our feet into the pools,
Dreaming of new dimensional space,
Where the supreme authority that reigns
In quiet power is what we know from moment
To sacred moment,
The knowledge we possess gives us
A gathered insight into the heart of
Love with no go-between or intermediary,
Love without ending or beginning,
Love that touches the hem of the eternal,
Becoming one with it,
Love that is love personified,
Complete in every way.
I'm nothing else
that an intermediary
between healing and disillusionment...
I am unwritten verse
when I'm not understood...
I'm a steppe wolf howl
when I provoke strangeness...
I just wanted to be a simple door
that offers passage,
Window that shows landscapes...
I wanted to be answers
to all dreams
and daydreams, raptures
of ecstasy...
love and passion for
who needs,
however, I'm just
a bitter-sweet being
not blissful,
not overly sad,
I am only, Poet... !
I'm not restless
but I'm not that light ...
I live beyond me,
and you notice ...
I live off limits
and I recognize myself well ...
I have beauty of
unmistakable madness
and the strange ugliness
of wonder ...
Outside I'm a beast
encrypted, for
inside I'm pure
fissure ...
I'm an intermediary
of words and conciliator
of passions ...
I'm strong as a giant
when I love, but I am
fragile as a fish
on the hook when
I'm alone, and without affection ...!
How ridiculous it would be to deliriously laugh at myself,
realizing that everything I've done was just another buff...
thinking that pain would be only mine.
I have seen the misery and tears in perturbed eyes often times,
never bringing comfort and giving them assurance to ease distress...
thinking that pain would be only mine.
How selfish were my deeds ammassing fortunes and not share
anything with anybody, vanity was controlling me, I did not dare...
thinking that pain would be only mine.
I hid resentfullness in a locked state to forget wrongdoing,
I wept bitterly and excessivily hearing those words echoing...
thinking that pain would be only mine.
Do I deserve loneliness and be denied an intermediary?
Hasn't fate punished me enough for all acts of idocy
thinking that pain would be only mine.
How ridiculous it would be to deliriously laugh at myself,
realizing that everything I've done was just another bluff...
thinking that pain would be only mine.
I have seen the misery and tears in perturbed eyes often times,
never bringing comfort, never giving assurance to ease distress...
thinking that pain would be only mine.
How selfish were my deeds ammassing fortunes and not share
anything with anybody, vanity was controlling me: I did not dare...
thinking that pain would be only mine.
I hid resentfullness in a shameless heart to forget wrongdoing,
I wept bitterly and excessivily hearing those words echoing...
thinking that pain would be only mine.
Do I deserve loneliness and be denied an intermediary?
Hasn't fate punished me enough for all the acts of idiocy...
thinking that pain would be only mine.
The shippers,
The third wheel,
The chaperon,
Intermediary,
The center of all the waggeries,
that "singles are bitter",
because they aren't inlove,
or haven't fallen in love",
Have you ever tried,
to sneak on their mind?,
If they really don't care about love,
Or are they praying for someone to come,
And bring them some love,
Some of them are in pain,
For feelings that are not repaid,
Some are just waiting,
believing ,"God has better plans"
But most of them are real lovers,
that holds strong in fate,
With faith,
They hold in their heart a great love,
A love nobody dares to feel,
In a heart that no one dares to know,
a love That would surely last,
more than this life time,
As history unravels in front of my eyes,
hurling truths through an intermediary,
I try to see the picture clearly. The seer
had seen the turbid future long before
it came to a dead end. Who am I then
to try to amend the ancient rules?
„My child“, she says, „It started
long before you could even imagine
to be part of it“. But now
I'm on the edge of that world –
Different time, same place... And I
see her face, washed-out, the bridge,
the urge to drown the fears. And mine,
which is floating In her tears.
different person, same fate.
„For you“, says the distant voice,
„It isn't late“. But how can I ever forget
that image, frozen in time. Burried in mind.
Her face, the bridge, fears floating in the air.
Her hands pulling me towards the past,
telling me not to fight.
The Forty-Fourth Conscript of the People.
A portrayal of intellectual and political multiformity.
Its present-nature is captivating and inspiring,
Its epochal-nature is unmarred and univocal,
And its future-nature is unknown and essential.
An Intermediary of faith in change,
Stirring echos of "Yes, we can!"
Rendering credences of optimism,
Stimulating the honesty of a republic,
And awakening the unconscious hope of mankind.
This recipiency dims the light of yesteryear,
And proceeds into an age of hueless expectancy.
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