Short Coordinates Poems

Word just only word
poetry coordinates
word out, now poem...

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between here and there
where coordinates blur
yet attention is poised
subjective awareness
is aflame in its light
bliss magnetised 
feeling complete
pure beingness
in pure peace...

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Converging lines
Dismembered and gliding
Into the point
×
Skipping blindly
Through time
×
Divide by
×
From coordinates undefined.
?
Pentagon inside
¦?¦?¦?¦?
Whatever you find is entirely your fault....

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Piano tuners and honeymooners

skipping to the music of the offshore ballet

sea-side sunshine coordinates the rhythm and timing

waves in motion and gulls

wide-eyed and whispering



viscerally evocative...

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all is one
and we are it
which is the truth

for ego to survive
it must negate
agape love

polarities are
the coordinates 
of life’s chess board

separation
causes anguish
embrace, divine union...

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She was on the rebound
high on freedom's speed
our coordinates collided
in a silver speck of time 
we dumped our seeds
upon a neon galaxie
but nothing ever blooms 
on that starry autobahn
I was just a speed bump,
to her leather studded charm....

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your panty
shield is
your

defense
i dont
mind

condoning
the con
dom

your planetary
coordinates
are toward

the South
where i'm
the North

but isn't it
even not
an if

scientIFically
that we were
meant to be

being polar
oppositely
attracted...

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we’re born alone and die alone
these two coordinates are fixed
betwixt these points, few souls heart hone
the rest in trance remain transfixed

what comes and goes is unreal
yet we trauma bond with desire
why does light before darkness kneel
save God’s light, what’s there to aspire...

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in my cockpit
holding the
stick i got

her off the 
ground in
to a blue

sky i
got in
position

coordinating
my coordinates 
not too much of

any kama
sutra stuff a
missionary on

a mission
of love and
giving but

about a
minute in
i got swall

owed
into her
Bermuda

triangle...

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a million thoughts in my head
none of them constructive or so it seems 
even though it keeps me awake 
peace needs to find me again, 
just in case my coordinates are flawed 
just in case my compass lost direction 
I need to embrace my space 

slip back into me 

not some watered down version of what people need me to be

©103010012012...

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I know you're an opportunist
Seeking future gain
Believe me, I used to be the same
I know you're playing both sides
I can see it in your eyes

Your jumping coordinates
There is no better way
We live in distant times
Sorrow has no name

So with gut-wrench competition check
We see to make it plain
Cause time is a commodity
And the future is the same...

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We are like whales,
Bleating out coordinates, thoughts
Communicating through our mediums
Touching through internal sound

Moby Dick is my poisonous pride
Aghast, I will chase the prize
With bugle call and torn ship
Never stopping....

She reaches through the screen
I cannot understand what she says
Of the future
But i can hear her heart bleating
As we merge beyond words...

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the waters divide
lovers are marooned
one at head, other at heart
between them looms
desert of desire

magnetism connects
all scattered coordinates
whispered in strobes of silence
reassuring yet falling short
of love’s tender embrace 

shape shifting soul
slides into thought cessation
transmuting as the space element 
whereupon as boundaries blur
the two become one again...

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Replacing one illusion for another
is merely shifting coordinates in space,
for our indulgence therein will yet smother
freedom of soul, with new horizons to chase,
thus but a mind game conjured, so why bother
if the outcome at end of days is disgrace,
having succumbed to cravings of our ego,
in the world of transience, we’re loathe to forgo.

19-September-2022...

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if our fontanel tingles
or third eye glistens
our throb of anticipation
quickens as soul listens

we tend to neglect
other nodes that pulsate
if our eye be single
why do we discriminate

as spirit enlivening form
and we as the all-there-is
feel within each sensation
innate vibrancy of bliss

differentiated perception
ride on the Ferris wheel 
may then all coordinates 
hold to heart equal appeal...

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The ocean keeps us apart
Like shackles tying us to the Earth
They cannot bind us forever,

Sweetheart,
Close your eyes... can you see me?
Hold out your hand... can you feel me?
When you part your lips... can you taste me?

Sweetheart,
In my head the science is simple
What are the coordinates? ...Here.
And the time? ...Now.

The ocean keeps us apart
But under the stars we remain together.

1.30.2013...

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sometimes it so happens
love knocks on icy hearts 
and is cold shouldered

in timeless time jagged rocks
are smoothened by the river’s flow
love employs no force

unconscious souls 
yet rooted in animal nature
appear cloaked in human form

the indwelling spirit
is the same within all
only coordinates differ

there’s neither judgment nor shame
the sunlight continues to stream
on all life without prejudice

31-December-2022...

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Sun overhead
Our shadow is small
Heart heavy as lead
Back against a wall

Consciousness contracted
By believing that the caricature
Is us, magnificence subtracted
Crestfallen at our fallen stature

Within the bubble of illusion 
We take to be reality
Sleep walking in delusion 
We are our own casualty 

Observing our coordinates 
From a centred stance
As duality oscillates
We see our schizophrenic dance

In stillness

02-November-2020...

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The message was clear.
But I did not arrive.
Something took me—
quietly.

Held me hostage
in a battlefield
without coordinates.

Echoes detonated
from inside,
each doubt a buried mine
I stepped on
without moving.

Fear didn’t shout—
it infested,
dripping into the marrow,
slow and precise.

There were no weapons,
only aftermath.
No fight,
only surrender
masquerading as endurance.

The scars remain—
but even they
refuse to speak.
...

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Z452GH was ironing her face and body suit in the usual way
A tedious chore she has to do every Monday through Friday
Fooling the silly earthlings to think she is one of them
How much longer until we leave? She asked her husband Jim.

He did not have the coordinates or orders yet from the chief.
We are stuck on this planet probably until the Equinox of the Reef.
Z452GH was glad it was only one day until Saturday then,
She liked wearing her own body, she loved her own skin....

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