Not all Healers will charge a fee,
Some will appear to touch your pain points,
Fingers Knowing exactly where to press.
Their own heart is a subscription service,
That knot in your back spoke so loudly,
Unperceived Tantric Rhythm, that's a yes.
Eyes Beaming with multiple timelines,
Hairs standing on end, Deserving of respect.
Aware in another life, we once met.
Never telling what they'll do,
Not warning you about the effects of the magic,
It suddenly just beams out of your chest.
Can't stop thinking about it now,
Nor can be brave enough to subscribe,
Memories standing out from the rest.
Sacred caressing to rip the ego to shreds,
Beauty together pre-empting an entire life shift,
The Silent Healer does it best.
The price is life as we know it,
Goosebumps telling a tale and preparing new,
Though you laid with them, now to yourself you must confess.
Light vanishes upon his leaving
with the final grip of dusk--
the perfume of asters wisping softly
and I am by myself again...
alone into the restless clang
from winds booming ;
a melody which makes noises
louder than my roars--
and within luster of stars,
I long for lusty music
those whispers of craving hummed
where smoke flares of red summer days--
my man slowly slithering
lifting from brewed flames.
his sun over a raging river
propelling layers of dusky groans
and peaking drips of sweet sweat :
alienated, the cloud spills a thousand
secrets of co- owned trespasses.
How morning spills tantric samba notes --
aromatic robusta beans stinging
my damp eyelids ...my fingers
love- drunk on desire this mouth
sipping coffee dark, stark black
that not a tincture eases this heart.
Time was flowing slow with you
I laughed at your jokes
we drank Jack the whole night
I loved the way you had tantric sex on me
I loved when you were behind
inside me
I loved smoking cigarettes late at night
and laughing at our jokes
meanwhile in one hand I hold the cigarette
on the other one holding your dick
which was always on appetite mood
I loved the silence of the night
watching gottic statues and white balconies
knowing there was the warm room that was waiting us inside
to laugh and cuddle our naked bodies.
crown petals unfold for lofty Light
fontanelle gaping softly smile
Centre Point’s hole blazon mile
pineal connects as conical way
to galactic edenic binomial rays
loosens ovuliferous scales honed
thyroid equalises, tongue relaxes
cylinder opens larynx true blue
speech becomes intended hues
heart softens atria, ventricles
valves linking doors of paradise
protected golden it rhapsodises
coin-line verticle-horizontal spherical
solar plexus flowers monumental near
mystical super might no incidentals
feed flows smooth for tantric beats
sacral seat in creativity knowing heat
power is orange action satisfaction
rooted into Earth mooted primordial
authentic estate mirthful immemorial
aligned connection very refined
~~~~~~~~~~
You can't hold it both ways, In meaning.' You
Are either direct.' Or directionless..And thus
In a mess.' No less-en-ing, yet less kenning will ensue.' Though
You deny..Its more obvious..Showing through'
True.' Reality denying.? I find it at best tedious'
Not to mention trying.! And now cov-idiocy is
Really dying.' Symtoms seen, idio-tantric bouts
And much de-crying..Tantrum-atic antic's its
Virtuless incandesacnt-cy liquid spleen venting, venting' yet never airing.' Instead there
Is resenting and vitriol..And severe dis-connect, much fruit less conversation, born.? that really
Cripples the formerly upright soul; struggle of noble
Nations...How do I quantify.? Highlight the prints of such scorn.!
In the opaque night across the space of silence,
enfolding the languid landscape of my existence,
bereft of the beguiled essence in indolent life,
my pathway meanders in the labyrinth of torment.
Trudging at the fringe of trying forbearance,
I hear listless the whispering wind of wisdom
tell me, this journey has no meaningful end.
I’m entangled in the nebulous mesh of ambiguity.
The ill-conceived venture of the errant mind
finds gloomy dead end in the introspection path.
That’s when the serpentine force opens the innate door,
releasing the feminine energy of yogic awareness.
My soul shines then with the ethereal radiance
in the infinite depth of the discernment space,
like the flaring brilliance of dormant tantric power,
flashing through the seven chakras of perception.
In my self-searching spiritual odyssey
toward the edge of the enlightened eternity,
I perceive the acuity centres configure consciousness
and turn it into living beacon, lighting my inner self.
No comfort for the stickler, sticking literary fixtures depicting conflicting inklings to their minds as perfect pictures.
With one stroke of my pen the standards rose again and damned be lesser men.
As the pros of prose impose and profess, chaos needs redress.
For I, who's distress you must address, now cower and cleanse this mess, confess my prowess only serves to impress all reason to, "stop the press".
Anachronistic the measure of their metric, imperialistic so the eccentric can spiral in tantric concentric circlejerks.
Central to themselves, it works.
The stench of sh!t, a rose by any other name, smeared with effluent smirks.
With all due respect you may cling to the historic.
If you wish to press/play, I will lay waste.
I'm not here to copy/paste.
The past won't be replaced, though clearly trampled and retraced.
Finding you're fittingly faced with chagrin laden grimace feeding bitter distaste.
Thou is to doth o'er and o'er, as men of the cloth in unrestrained glory.
Touting the gospel loudly and poorly, wholly unaware it's a fairytale story.
Emotional Burdens Set Sail on Dark Waters Lagoon
Adrift, Under the Soft Light of the Waxing Crescent Moon
Subtle the Reflection, the Tapered Lunar
Gently Glistened Dark and Murky Ethereal Water
The Rippled Surface Parted to Embrace Oshun's Daughter
Dark Waters, Uncharted Enchanted Tantric Whispers
With Urgency, Implores the Mystic Explorer
Seeking Light in the Dark
Hoping for Star Lights to Illuminate a Path
Opaque and Obscure Neptunian Watery Depth
Bubbles revealing a Treasure Cave where Creativity is Kept
Nurturing Seeds of Aspiration
Dark Waters Incubate Newly Conceived Inspiration
Piscean Streams of Motivation Needed
To Aide the Birth of the Water Lily Seeded
Dark Water, Dark Moon Daughter
Now Submerged In Blissful Abysmal Depths
Dreamy Trance, Her Secrets the Dark Waters Kept.
illumination radiance gleaming spectrum
the lightness of being reflected in meditation
karmic invigoration when Newton’s apple rises
above the false gravity of seeming impermanence
cause and effect in cosmic unmeasurable cycles
tantric proportions of spiritual enlightenment
the Buddha seduces the Virgin Mary in foreplay
of heavenly promises and miraculous passion
gleaming brilliance blinds all darkness
when luster emerges from devilish shadows
waiting for providence necessities action
one cannot light a fire without a spark
once ember glows momentum evolves
future and past merge into presence
suffering of suffering yields epiphanous healing
all chakras open and ready for more
the time will come when you visualize sounds
hear what plays out in your eyes
touch taste and smell the spell of their union
and become one with yourself and the Universe
‘if I could I would give her
the moon on a spoon …´
in synchronous rotation
orbits speed in compassion
around a union made in heaven
charged in meditation
the Universe expands
stellar love upon a wishing star
knows no infinitum
tantric togetherness weaves
heavenly pleasures
awaits once intergalactic dust
settles in mind body and soul
making love with no end
and no beginning
a daily practice in humility
an afterglow when spoons mingle
scoops up all that matters
no space in between
He smells the passion and perfume,
the mild and manic moments
of a young love.
Here comes a ragged flight of crows;
he squints in the cold sunlight.
Blue shadows glimmer and glint.
He has a lover in mind;
a dead one,
the crows carry her memory to him.
The aroma of deep red wine,
silk stockings discarded
yet still writhing and tangling.
The clumsy sincerity
of sexual pantomimes,
Tipsy lipreading's of arousal
utter their naked words,
glimmers sculpture
tantric passions into recollection.
He wonders
did any of this change -
the girl, the crows, the tidal musk,
the surfacing ebb and flow
the sense of it all?
Autumnal flares
restore a late warmth
to cooling images.
The long-lived
out run their dreams.
Ardor awakens once more
between scarlet lips.
It's a kindred, half-living
kind of being.
The seasoned
shelter such memories
under concealing crows feet,
or beneath
chameleon-lidded eyes.
Nocturnal visions of the highest order welcome you
Priestess of ancient tribes...
Cast your spell wrap the moon in dark tinsel swindles
Open the gateway dark anime girl ,
and potentize your aerial fields of resonance
Enter into the dragon's shrine, use your potion
to qualm the drake keeper;
Seize your destiny as the stars seize the night
use your wizardry to dye the sun hairs black
allow the purple bruised night to feast on your mood
eglantine kisses dark as blackstrap molasses
falling on you like mellifluous rhythm of tantric drums
Ink your beauty on their bodies morosely caress their wounds
heal and saturate them, with your purple plum heart.
Drummer boy and Drummer girl.
Creating echoes of emotions intentions.
Speak your mind in catchy unfurl.
In tantric mind pounding experi-dimension.
So happy they're not blades,
You're wielding.
I'm just saying, drummers are crazed.
Those sticks, instead, are an extensions of a quest for fire.
Kindling, I hope, for holy smoke of a heart emblazed.
Caroming over a glade overlooking desire.
Unbridled energy for getting your point to be made.
Shoehorning passions through my pounding head.
Up the irons! The likes of Nicko Mcbrain.
Standard Bearer of the Serenade;
Kim Iversen, what do you do for an encore?
Fight like a Standard Bearer, for the People of the U.S.A.
Buddhist view on aversion and desire,
cognises oscillations between them,
thereby sidestepping consequence dire,
nipping thorns and flowers, before they stem,
equal in dark and star of Bethlehem.
Cessation by negation, age old ways,
far cry from the tantric, who to joy sways,
dancing at all times in celebration,
imbibing within bliss, that always stays,
given to play, in vibrant elation.
One view accepts that what is, simply is,
thus centered in the void, without movement,
choice of non-action, exiting thought quiz,
heart equipoised in quiet contentment,
whilst the other infuses joy intent,
each breath inflow taken as divine grace,
burning yearning to see God face to face,
all acts performed, in aspect surrender,
seeking out the truth, at a burning pace,
whilst beholding Gods manifest wonder.
28-August-2021
Your Favorite August 2021 Poem contest
Sponsor: Constance La France
gently they breathed in and out
reached the tantric mountain
true to the core of all energies combined
prophets of doom came to the hills
eager to dispel the impermanent truth
that yoga is a type of faith
in body mind and soul
but the words they dangled
were only empty oracles
cross legged lotus flowers
opened consciousness and the conscience
that the earth sun and moon
are mere reincarnations of beauty
Shiva and Shakty
captured the breath of all winds
fired by passion
until the tempest subsided
and called for more
13th August 2021
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