mmmmmy
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Joined: 2/11/2008
Msg: 1351 | |
| samsara
Posted: 2/21/2008 9:23:45 PM |  lol only J. could make that outta that! lol hugs mmmmmy | |
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| samsara
Posted: 2/21/2008 9:49:09 PM | Duhkha ii *
It’s the pulchritude of her
countenance, intoxicant of
a man’s mind! —I’m driven
into the last cave—and gladly I run
therein—and thus Can I do more
than touch of a vision!
I ache in
raiment of her smile; my
recondite embodied passions; and
risqué it is for me The love of
another man’s wife. And how
many life cycles must I repent
through! Notwithstanding, for her
I am the depth of the mythic
transgression.
The sky has spoken in her honor;
but I ignore the Upanishads; thus
angry as hell that Jezebel has
Wiccan’d my mind into frenzy. I’m
manic for the whore of my thoughts.
And I’m borderline the psychic
Sirocco unto the touch of that very
Afflict’d thought—the physical
Manifestation of the harlot I love. | |
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| samsara
Posted: 2/22/2008 8:46:15 AM | Let Her Will spirit*
— — — What doth boldness
accomplish! And how much
honesty canst a man deliver?
If only the soul of her nature
could spirit without contempt.
I would then be ecstatic to dance.
Would to Divinity that she could
just dance.
And I the feel of this is reality.
But uncertain of why the motion
has been cuffed to illusion. I
shatter delusion if she only Wills.
And so it shall be if she only Wills! | |
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| samsara
Posted: 2/22/2008 8:59:15 AM | Promiscuity*
To speak of it,
Is to be contemn’d for it.
To indulge in it,
Is to be loathed for it.
But you do it.
And you have done it.
And you will do it.
But now you’re borne anew.
Thus you spew venom.
You cast stones.
And you wonder of why
You have yet to break free.
But I’m the reflection
Beneath the deep of the
Mirror.
And there I dwell.
Me.
The mythic sinner.
Me,
Aberration of the church!
Me.
Hedonistically satiated!
Me.
The one enviously hated.
And to no degree shall
I tame the beast. | |
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| samsara
Posted: 2/22/2008 6:45:57 PM | Two way street*
What if confession drew nigh?
What if she reached out to you?
What if your wife knew?
What if she had herself done the same? | |
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| samsara
Posted: 2/22/2008 9:32:45 PM | More than Wanton for You….
Do we die for passion within? To the
River I ask of this very question.
An affusion of spirit touches you. And
Me, I’m now an outcast for touching
Your soul.
But disentail me from the human
Of my soul. Canonize the completion
Of light without you! Is this possible?
Why am I so sad for you? Even unto the
Detach from you! Are you in pain disguised
In a smile? But contrition stills keep you
Aglow. I hate that I want of you.
Do you read in wonder of you? For I have
Read ever and anon in wonder of you.
How is it that I compose to the aloof? The
Aloof in you! But urged I am to compose.
This cupidity in my veins, the crumble of us…
Screaming as we do in a dark room. I sat…
Uncertain, but still yearning for you… the
Crucible of my sanity. My aporetic love, dour
And uneasy… but how is this in the arms of
Your love? I ask with motives. But I could never
Convey that in me! I but wail internally… without
Promise of escape… and to have of you is but the
Harrowing embrace… even unto the collapse of our soul.
Am I dissolute in your eyes? […] the cry of a dying smile,
Searching out to make tangible this idyllic thought. Is this
More than lust? What is the solicitude of this ache?
It’s more than just fleeting; for I’m without a parachute; thus,
For you I fall unto death… with no escape of you. How have
You grown so impassive? Am I written off as dissolute? Is
It the impressions of canon that have enslaved you?
But what of this insoluble vibe! Why do we think of us?
I’m haphazard in motion… bereft of turning back… my
Heart is penchant for you without soothe but of having
Of you… do I bleed the wrong blood? Has the past killed
Of you? Is now the risk that, that is but certain? What
Have I to die for… if it is not but you? I struggle to live;
If only for you. But you have left me with nothing. And
You refuse to even glance into the rearview. I must now
Learn to live. | |
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| samsara
Posted: 2/22/2008 9:50:33 PM | denial is more than a river in egypt
out in nowhere
against all odds
I am cooking my heart out for you
sirloin with bearnaise sauce
cheesy potatoes
string beans in garlic
biscuits
even a slightly lumpy chocolate pie
all the good stuff we had to give up
years and years ago for our arteries.
I'm pretending we are anywhere but where we are.
perhaps a Paris evening
wine and camembert
slow walks along the Seine
at dusk, the boats with long
necklaces of lights all the length
of the river
or camped above the Hudson
Bear Mountain, rainbow trout
smoking on our fire, our tent flaps open
to the deer path, sleeping sweetly hip to hip
the fire flys lazily drifting outside
a hooty owl talking to the moon
but here
in this new place
against all odds
all day i hide from a dragon
called catastrophe.
all night he finds me
whispers : No, it's true.
It's true. | |
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| samsara
Posted: 2/23/2008 7:35:11 AM | | ^^^^^^^^^^truly a beautiful and most enthralling poem. i enjoyed reading every line. | |
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| Such a corkscrew existence
Posted: 2/23/2008 8:31:38 AM | You live in an illusion when you really detest your epicure way of life
Tighten the grasp, cut it out like a puzzle piece with a jagged knife
Life is a game
No winners, no losers
Just abusers and sinners
Who take away all you want to be
Just to see you living in your prismatic hell of a shell
Open wounds, pressure and strain
Take away all you want it to be
Holding
Touching
Saving
Kissing
Craving
Destroying
But in the end it will all be the same
Watching you in your humdrum ways
Saline in your veins, hooks in your heart
Dying
Hating the way you live
Falling
Loving the way you are dying
 | |
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| samsara
Posted: 2/23/2008 8:42:25 AM | at dusk, the boats with long
necklaces of lights all the length
of the river
Wonderful images SS it wasn't hard to imagine.
Poetry is a deep well
In essence an extension
Our words born from our persona
An arm, a leg
Reaching outside of the womb
We who think too much
Need a channel for those thoughts to find order
A purging of the unnecessary
Thoughts which threaten to usurp our peace
An equilibrium for our consciousness
Those who write from an unbiased heart
Open their minds to the teachers
Amongst us
Those wise souls who weave their slender branches
Through the tangle of vines
Reaching for the sun
The unbridled truth.
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| samsara
Posted: 2/23/2008 5:22:42 PM | Visual Distortion…. There is great truth in this writing. There is a true conflict in us all. One of which that is imposed upon the mind by society. And unfortunately, many are forced to live in hiding, ashamed of being human. I could never understand how it is that we are all made in the image of god, and to experience the sensual properties of god, we do such through one another, but at the same time one should feel guilty for desiring god through the love of others, in that very space where it is written that god lives. Notwithstanding, I love the depth herein expressed. It reins as truth! Albeit, an unfortunate truth.
Autumn…. You indubitably have written the truth. Poetry is truly an extension of the Self. Through every limb the energy and poetic life-force surges. Every effort that we soever choose to indulge in has the face of poetry therein. Moreover, you are too correct of the fact that poetry serves as a way of centering the overly active mind. And most importantly, we must remain open and ever-so diligent not to bias our vision, in order that we may continue to develop. In detail all is true herein this poem.
I thank you both for sharing such depth and wisdom for us all to ponder upon. It has truly given me a great more detail to maze through. | |
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| Ethics~
Posted: 2/23/2008 8:13:59 PM | Hi Joshua...lot's of great reading here but, these lines really caught me...
To speak of it,
Is to be contemn’d for it.
To indulge in it,
Is to be loathed for it.
But you do it.
And you have done it.
And you will do it. | |
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| Ethics~
Posted: 2/26/2008 9:47:47 PM | | the rising of Sophia.... it is a pleasure to hear from you. and indeed, a great deal here can be said. | |
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| Ethics~
Posted: 2/27/2008 9:38:02 AM | As always such depth is found here...inspiring me to reach and grow..
A leap of faith
brought me to this place
where I now stand
staring into space
lingering with thoughts
of what truly lies ahead for me
imagining with wonder
future sights I will see
a clear open road
beckons me to travel on
gingerly with steady steps
I walk forward humming a sweet song.... | |
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mmmmmy
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Joined: 2/11/2008
Msg: 1365 | |
| Peaceful blessings....
Posted: 2/27/2008 9:46:32 AM | One so torn
felt so low
heart so scorned
life so dark
Beyond
all minute
memories
Life
lives
hope
imagery
of all
we hold
so deep
inside
Keeping
every heart
that flies
once upon
a full moon
heart finds
love
life again!
Sweeter
song
never
played
never
more
loves
disquise
Once
when
all clouds
spread
wings suffice
Fly away
into
a
life! | |
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| Peaceful blessings....
Posted: 2/28/2008 4:45:07 PM | Wabbit..... indeed! we must move forward... and we do so in faith that the best has yet to come.
mmmmy.... i think from this i can take it that life is a journey; and we are reborne from one life to the next within the same life. | |
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| during this 'game'.
Posted: 3/2/2008 4:44:23 PM | We have come to learn
that some ‘things’ can
just be taken; and done so
without permission. How
appall’n the thought! But
during this ‘game’, one
must grip tightly upon
mental composure; and
during this ‘game’, one
must alway be politically
correct; and during this
‘game’, we must pretend
to feel fairness; and
during this ‘game’, we
must remain poised.
But
during this ‘game’, we can
loose it all at the hand of
injustice. | |
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| The Center of a Dream
Posted: 3/6/2008 10:09:51 AM | A circle has no ends
and a universe has no center
a sphere is made for consciousness
to give a point of reference
I AM the center of a dream
I AM the meaning of being
I AM the now of time everlasting
this moment of your believing
A square has four equal sides
a circle can form within it
two triangle find a circles own center
to give a point of reference
It is the center of the form
It is the meaning of the pattern
It is the now of times first creation
this moment of your... believing | |
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| The Center of a Dream
Posted: 3/15/2008 6:16:04 PM | | long time no see, statueman. ^^^ i have reread it several times.... I thank you for the insight. | |
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| during this 'game'.
Posted: 3/15/2008 6:36:08 PM | Be it space
Be it time
Be it maya ---
A great riddle!
Be it space in time
No more than maya ---
A mother’s mind for vengeance!
The sea is forever lit
As diamonds in the aches glisten.
Give breath to a man’s art,
And energy wilt whelm the heart.
She’s there in illusion;
Right afore me basking in maya.
The calm is a meditative canvas.
But far from empty Am I.
I shall buttress this hourglass;
As they aim with vengeance to
Shatter the heavens, the doings
Of the One.
Every moment The pause of
Every moment!
In every moment
The eyes art soulfelt agony; despair,
Grieves of samskara… detached if self
Finds depth, intertwined therein that
Deep god within.
How many confirmations shall come
Of this?
And now!
No eye contact.
But vengeance’s Id is loose…
Running amuck the intangible
And how receptive is the audience?
The audience isn’t receptive at all! | |
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| during this 'game'.
Posted: 3/15/2008 7:03:04 PM | Naive -- I have enjoyed catching up on your latest writes ... especially the last one.
Enlightenment beams forth from a forsaken heart
No redemption is sought
No salvation offered by the hands of mortality
A lost man searches for himself
Running from his Father
Who is there with open arms
Son, He says, don't you know who I am
I am the one that loves you | |
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| during this 'game'.
Posted: 3/15/2008 7:22:30 PM | “Holy ambiguity!”
A history of written word
And there’s one phrase
Left to say
One phrase
Left to breath
One sentence
Not enjoyed
One taboo left unbroken
One temple left unadulterated
One catch left in the under meaning
One figment left unimagined
One confused arching kiss
Back in that back street
We were backlit by a backbeat
We kissed. You who are a friend
To my lover, and just one touch
Of the lips
And we moonlighted
In the moonlight, only to
Pretend to forget.
And anything else
Is to be left unsaid
Who know what thoughts
Can bring with it.
For your eyes and lips have wit. | |
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| during this 'game'.
Posted: 3/15/2008 7:34:38 PM | JD.... Indeed a fabulous piece. how often do we not recognize the love right before our eyes!
Tyedyedsoul.... truly intense and enigmatic. i wonder if the two ever reminisce on the moment that was once embraced freely? | |
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| during this 'game'.
Posted: 3/15/2008 7:35:47 PM | Who am I to exclaim?
But that do I in anima.
Isn’t she more than art?
Is she not the spark of the
heart in presence of the
silence?
And with every
flutter resonates in visions
her beatific beauty.
But she is
more than art! She is the
confusions of man’s motives.
And it can’t be physical. For
she has never touched of him.
And in no more than a dream
wast his infatuation revealed.
And to her,
isn’t her life a masterpiece?
Isn’t it!
But the reflection of the mirror
becomes hateful to her. And, as
if in the penumbra of her thoughts,
I utter: she is more that art: She
is the embodiment of the Grecian
gods, the bewilderment of Zeus,
the lust of Christ, the rebirth of
the crucifix.
But these art but words heard of
the afflicted soul. These art but
ploys projected from depth the lust.
She is more than art. But all she sees
is needled filled veins; a closet myriad
filled with ex-lovers; a visceral envisage of
self-hate; and a body that is codified in
scarifications.
But to me
She is more than just art:
She is the enrapturous captivation
Of motion; thee, unutterable manifestation
Of the incomplete and yet perfected
Masterpiece… not my art!!!
But she is more that art.
She is god’s creation:
Love of the angelic hymns,
Reason of the next apocalypse,
Indignation fallen within the rain,
The recaptured essence of Eden,
The transcendent wisdoms of Enoch,
The cause of the burning bush,
The Extinguishment of Levitic laws,
The Deuterocanicles rapt’d in the eyes of spirit,
The last death of the Buddha…
SHE IS MORE!!! | |
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| during this 'game'.
Posted: 3/15/2008 8:24:49 PM | | Thanks naive. Your writes show a depth and a soul connected to life everywhere. You must live life to it upmost fullest. Embracing pain as lifegiving as you do joy. I look forward to reading more. | |
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