Long Illusionary Poems

It is with tears in my eyes that I write these verses of hope, it is with tears in my eyes I climb the mountain of joy  and stands on top of it and...

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15.7
“You are That in which the universe appears 
like waves appearing in the ocean
You are Consciousness itself
No need to worry”


The concept being that the world is nothing but thought
Transient and therefore necessarily unreal like a...

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Ever  so  ornamental                       
       ...

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I’ve dreamt of mountains of rocky rode ice cream, dappled with candy
Kisses of purity sprinkled on top, hot steaming fudge pouring from heaven
On high, cascading as if an ocean of water streaming downwards onto my
Fantasy...

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Another day, another day to cross out on the calendar
Are these lens called my eyes functioning
I couldn't be the one to say it, my attention is elsewhere; I'm dazed
Today is just one of those days
Lost...

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Secrets are anxiously being kept with a behavioral struggle, as one of the special few enters the room; obviously preoccupied with his thoughts. Bottom teeth are nipping his upper lip tucked tight, rope acting as...

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Both void & manifestation
Spanda: life pulse vibration
Expanding & contracting
Concealing & revealing
Stupefying & illuminating
Separating & uniting

Shiva’s self luminescence 
In playful innocence 
Creating a pulse of separation
Culminating in divine union

Paths four for liberation
All found in the void...

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“The wake of one’s desire is the wake in one’s dream
Nothing belongs an ever within The Ancient to seem
Of dreams misplace, of thoughts misled and of mind misread
Where sorrows are only ever to grow and...

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Beneath the opal white moon, the crying doves shed their precious tears,
Causing the purple rain to fall, melting at the lavender notes of musical dreams,
Camelot’s illusionary ivory towers of brilliant colors, seemingly fades unto the
Violet...

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(This is a Blog)
          How about a little humor, for we as human beings need it. For it is recorded, that
even God himself winks at this...

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Those practicing Tantra urge us to celebrate,
albeit in an aspect of childlike trust and surrender,
whilst Buddhists lay emphasis on emptiness,
essentially negating play of aversion and desire
and as for fundamentalists, lost in the scriptures,
lost in labyrinths...

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This poem is not about what is written, but what is not written. Never is this subject about 
which I relate ever touched upon. “The dual persona of the human being." Yet it is a...

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GHOST MIRRORS

Ghostly images captured within the prism of reflected light,
Ethereal waves rippling against reality’s framed surface
Of the translucent, as phantom hands press, slamming at
The fragile glass of dualities deadened zone of existence!
A sudden shimmering, in...

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Two opposing warring factions, meet upon the AstroTurf
Battlefield, in the sporting arena of Victory or agony’s defeated,
Warriors of the pigs skinned javelin, tackle each other at the
White lines of collisions honor, marked by the numbered...

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He lives between two worlds.
 
One that an average, or sane person, finds him or herself living day to day,
and that of a fictional writer, who allows his creative side to pull him into the...

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I believe that poetry is and of is was were have has been of as one pretenses a 
poetic practical pompous, pro  (p) ransomedramatical  postenses
pretending to prose promise a 
predictive premise primatory practicum...

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“If you would merge with oneness, vaporise!
Be a child again, welcoming surprise!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Immersed in limitation 
Shrouded in darkness
Feeling thus confined
We flounder about
Hither and thither
Searching for joy 
Bliss in permanence 
Yet our heart senses
That we are far...

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Flickering in the night, a melting’s texture of regrets afterglow,
Candlelight’s waxed drippings staining the white laced table cloth,
Yet in the black and white photo album of the timeless, it is a
Pressed flower of remembrance, never...

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The sun set low
And my heart split asunder
The wind blew hard with traces of slow
Darkness spread around and pierced deep under
My blooming valley of roses
Causing them to wrinkle and writher
Poison seeped through my immaterial illusionary...

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The world  that a normal person, finds him or herself living from day to day, and that of a writer, who allows their creative side to pull them into the shadowed spaces of his...

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Yes, that is the role of the Teacher, as Shams was to
me – showing one ‘who they are’, so they can stop
bleating, crying at night, and never again be afraid.
Rumi

Oh beloved,
I'm like Rumi without Shams.
A...

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Insatiable thirst and hunger
A bottomless materialistic pit
Always something for nothing
Prop your feet up; you’re the shit

Narcissist lazy behavior
Spoiled childish attitude
Snowflakes; everybody’s a winner
Except for people like me and you

They want it all
Dedicated to useless social...

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HEAL THY SELF O WOUNDED AFRICA 
                (no to XENOPHOBIA).
      
Wake up a voice shouted...

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You refuse, refusing the salvant call,
laying there in fetal position,
enthralled by my hex of vinegar and scrawl of liquids release that just seem to pour out of me organically.
Hissing in Wormwood's frequency dwelling, Hollywood "your...

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A bright star shimmers over once still seas:
                           ...

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