| Abstract Rhythms
Posted: 12/28/2006 12:38:43 PM | Can I speak Plainly & still be Loved in Logos?
Confound me for breathing.
But I’ve been warring since an adolescent.
Thus as the warrior becomes accustom to grief;
And that becomes the Spirit’s power; I live!
“When ye are made weak, I AM, is made strong.”
O my God, What a relieving riddle forsooth.
I forespeak the coming reign.
Hence, in spiritual actualities it appears.
The source is vindication enough.
A sign?
A witness?
Doth not the visitations visit thee?
Imagine being slain, drained slowly of thy life-force.
Mutilated beyond the mental ability to speak.
Scourged for the sake of envy.
Starved to death in torturous dungeons thirsting for vinegar.
Ah! Let me hold peace,
Lest I bespeak into existence a plaguing vision.
Ah! Let me hold peace,
Lest I bespeak into existence a fortified wall. | |
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| Something like a cultic-wave!
Posted: 12/28/2006 8:27:15 PM | This feeling…
Something like a cultic-wave!
I am now the Maori, the warrior of the pacific.
Assuage these scars with wine.
Can you hear the drums?
Those Paleolithic drums!
We are all located in the rotunda.
Listening to the neophytes take their sacred vows.
I bare mental witness to these mosaic tribes.
That old motif is chief of the cubism now.
What a twist!
Abstract art forms manifesting beneath the ba;
Somewhere therein the psychedelic ka…
I feel like the quasi-religionist.
Pass me the manna.
That’s power.
Now immortalize me in Dionysus’s fresco paintings.
Place me in the lower attic scale.
And place Venus in the hieratic scale.
For I love her with motives.
This is our avant-garde assemblage;
Turn my ashes into an ancient artifact.
I feel like a found object at this very moment.
What’s verboten is forthwith most compelling.
Let me dance forever in this matrix of metaphysical channels.
My Baroque; my brooch! | |
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| Something like a cultic-wave!
Posted: 12/28/2006 9:23:58 PM | Naive,
I'm re-posting this from Old Souls... I know you know...
L.V.X.
"No Peace"
No peace
while the Logos speaks
No peace
for the seeker of truth
No peace
while the warrior have wars
No peace
while the heart is grieving
No peace
while inside this ring pass not
No peace
while moved by the mover
No peace
while in envy or wrath
No peace
while in mortal flesh
Until time is no more
Until motion becomes still
Until beyond the abyss... expect no peace!
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(C) 2006 - Ro.M. (Poet Friend) | |
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| Something like a cultic-wave!
Posted: 12/28/2006 9:26:34 PM | "Quarter's"
Of love Thou spoketh
by the halves
feeling like the whole
still missing a half
Of love Thou seeketh
to have it all
yet searched but
for the halves
Of love the wise told
if Thou longeth
for the whole
then look for quarter's
Let her leadeth Thy spirit
Let him leadeth Thy mind
Let her leadeth Thy heart
Let him leadeth Thy body
For the whole is but one
woman and man but two
together they maketh three
so quarter's maketh the perfect whole
But beware Oh lover of love
Thy soul may not be led astray
never love more than one!
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(C) 2006 - Ro.M. (Poet Friend) | |
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| Something like a cultic-wave!
Posted: 12/28/2006 9:45:24 PM | She was but 18
A youngling
The newest initiate to the Geisha
They taught her the art of communication
The art of erotica
The art of dance
She became the poetic
The philosophical flower
She was delicate in the art of repartee
She was engulfed in the aura of love’s spell
But she disdained the conception
We met in Japan
Such the fairest semblance she is
Knowingly in the wrong I loved
I spoke of dreams
I shrouded her in visions of esoteric mystique
I gave to her this lotus frequency
Then it registered in her third eye
Danger was lurking
She was doing the verboten
Not love!!!
Her contract was still six years from completion
“I dare never write my name where another has written theirs”
I vanished!!! | |
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| Something like a cultic-wave!
Posted: 12/28/2006 9:50:42 PM | Poetfriend! Indeed! I think of you as the seer! These poems are awesome!
It’s amazing how ideas strike us in the midst of our motion; in the heart of silence.
You already know that you are most accommodated here in spirit… so always come through as the wind… when ye reckon it’s time. Naïve…. | |
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| Something like a cultic-wave!
Posted: 12/29/2006 4:41:58 PM | The Choir
and so i closed my mind
from the piney needles
adorned and adored
and mightily so
tho...
the scent
had turned to sol....soul rubbing...one against other so as to lose
no
to shine lustre each their own other
beauty
yes
N. McEwan Dec 13/2006 | |
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| Something like a cultic-wave!
Posted: 12/29/2006 10:31:24 PM | | miturn-mist; you are most astutely gifted... knowing when and knowing how. I thank you. | |
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| Something like a cultic-wave!
Posted: 12/29/2006 10:32:01 PM | An Elegy! (a mournful poem) Sarcasm! (a lament for the dead) (Plus, a smile at you)!
A most affable-electromagnetic wave to begin;
My poetic keen-friend…
Elegiac subject-matter is found disdainful…
But people love for you to remain in the mire with thy inner mirror besmeared…
Besmeared with defeat…
I guess it’s soothing to witness the next man perish.
O’ how we fear the dead!!!
O’ how I love my poets!!!
Betimes esoteric waves are far too vague.
And it’s a shame that mickle shrines froward contrary to flippant minds…
Disgusted with the poet’s that love the Lord’s effulgent shine…
And my spine shivers due to the serpent’s venom.
But this feverish ecstasy shall pass.
Ah, no no no! Think deeper! For I pop no pills.
These are all spiritual chills!!!
Allow me to one more gann climb this mystic hill;
Our mystique wheel within a wheel…
And I want even speak on Gnosis…
It’s like hocus pocus right there.
Wow! Ye drop by to stare.
Well! I’m still sitting in this electromagnetic chair.
An elegy indeed for those that grieve!!!
Notwithstanding I amble diligently through these mental cemeteries;
O’ how many have come to forewarn of the cauldrons a-waiting come.
Ye conjure against me a Wiccan’s spell.
That’s caricature to depict a caustic tongue ill.
What’s this bleating I hear in my Spirit’s ear?
Hath not the Lord given thee a command?
Then again, what is this bleating I hear in my spiritual ear.
Joshua was just.
Chased down A-don’-i-be’-zek he did;
Repaid the King in kind by slewing off his thumbs and great toes…
In the king’s carnage-shed he uttered: as I hath done so God hath requited me.
Did Ephod dissemble the crowd?
Did Ephod disguise the Alchemy?
I’m aghast by such thoughts.
And that’s enigma’s friend…my now bewailing friend.
Can I have my mind back?
Can I breathe as an innocent child again?
Of course the heavy somewhat abhors those that live in closets.
Self-deceived opposed to self-possessed; this isn’t the path for the faint at heart.
We done gave our souls to this.
Better said; our souls have returned to their destinies.
Go ahead recriminate in turn, me.
Only ye can because we have the same schooling.
That spirit shed blood in my lap!!!
Ye can’t fix that! | |
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| A different rhythm for Naive
Posted: 12/29/2006 10:46:33 PM | Naive,
read through your last page and remembered this from a few weeks ago, I posted it for bubblez, with her interpreting experience... but I wanted to share it here...
my daughters choir concert on the 12th of December:
-SILENT NIGHT, HOLY NIGHT-
they sang so many songs
that touched my heart
i cried the whole way through
the director told us ahead of time
not to speak, silence was needed
they sang silent night, three verses
then all was quiet
the hands came up
a pin could drop and be the loudest
they began to sign
for four minutes
complete silence as the hands moved
my tears continued to flow
as they spoke of christmas without voices
no one knew what was happening
with a choir singing with no sound
there arms, moving in unison
practice perfect they sang
no sound, in perfect harmony
my tears made a puddle in my heart
i looked to my girl, so pretty and mature
signing the love of christ so pure
signing to my heart for all to see
i don't know the language but it was pure
the little lambs singing a silent song of love
Tenz ~  | |
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| A different rhythm for Naive
Posted: 12/29/2006 10:57:50 PM | I felt chills reading that! I can imagine, I can see.
What an honor it is for a man to watch his daughter in tears joy.
I’m sure she’s innocent; with the touch of that chill that ye instill through poetry.
How beautiful is it to feel!? | |
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| A different rhythm for Naive
Posted: 12/30/2006 8:54:49 AM | Recovery
The heart cries for a minute when we lose
but in it's resilience it heals to teach us
to once again flow it's offering
it bleeds us in time a new love
with every scar becoming thicker
till it finally becomes made of glass
It's your choice to look out or to look in
I choose to look out and refrain the past
Excuse the meter it lost me, but I felt it anyway. | |
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| Something like a cultic-wave!
Posted: 12/30/2006 9:39:23 AM | Everything is somewhat sabbatical labyrinth.
Believe that meter is awesome.
I evaded self from birth up until 19 years of new birth.
Than the nerves gave way; I ended up becoming the insane asylum.
Dear God, who could have thought;
They all turned their shoulders;
But this still small voice… said all is well.
Thus from-then-on, I listened closely;
To only what the still voice had to say.
Opposed to listening to all the whispers in earnest;
I concentrated on that still small voiced.
Never allow it to be smothered out.
Dear God; never allow it to be smothered out.
It made me that much kinder; that much wiser;
Now I here the words as depicted through…
The thought that provoked them…
In this sabbatical labyrinth… our minds;
If wasn’t otherwise theirs.
~live*evil~, I thank you for that meter… return when ye choose… ye are always welcomed to. | |
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| Something like a cultic-wave!
Posted: 12/30/2006 9:46:57 AM | Destroy the accursed thing from among you
Transgress not against the covenant of thy soul
Sanctify thy soul; thus and thus have I done. | |
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| Something like a cultic-wave!
Posted: 12/30/2006 9:55:36 AM | Be I cursed and sent into hiding
For stating what my mind gives freely
I took no comfort in your siding
With those of conflicting views clearly
Pushed me aside, away from the crowd
So all looked justified and proud
Of what they think is scornful justice
I lay in wait for my time to come
Back, triumphant into the home
Of those who now cheer me so gaily
I shall leave and never acknowledge
The shun, the scorn of those seldom in the knowledge
Of what is to come, and what is to be
My return awaits, but never to see.
lucidmoments | |
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| Something like a cultic-wave!
Posted: 12/30/2006 11:09:03 AM | | Ah, such wisdom and penetrative hind sight. I thank you lucidmoments for such this mentally gripping manifest. | |
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| Something like a cultic-wave!
Posted: 12/30/2006 11:30:22 AM | Perceptions of Intra-psychic Addictions!
My addiction is Spirit
My addiction is poetry
My addiction is this acquired lexicon
And my number one addiction is, Jehovah.
What’s perceived by one cannot be two.
Unless Logos first new.
I see a thousand riddles in ever line…
Thus I respond to the desired provocation…
But always in Spirit’s eyes….
Where is my summons to purgatory?
Selah | |
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| Something like a cultic-wave!
Posted: 12/30/2006 2:35:30 PM | For Abner it was like an addiction…
The warring, the shed of blood…
I figure only a man of fear seek-eth out a soothsayer.
O’ what a tangled web hath been weaved when the Lord becometh thy enemy!
Unwoven thy iniquity, but reckon it as unheard!
Saul was appointed the haunted; his mental decline was past due! | |
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| perplexing whisper
Posted: 12/30/2006 3:07:24 PM | perplexing whisper
---------------------------------
I war with myself constantly
I rage with passion, ranting and raving
always caught in my own addictions
my addiction to poetry
my addiction to my minds eye
perils familiar in energy but daunting
my affliction to partake of herbal respite
but my truest addiction, Jah
what is in his name?
a riddle set forth to me, a perplexing whisper
a form made true by my earnestness and vision
knowing that I speak in tongues and cry aloud "evermore!"
Tenz ~ © 2006 T. Scott | |
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| Abstract Rhythms....Time to drop you a line or.....two.....or......
Posted: 12/30/2006 6:36:53 PM | The Shadows
Shadows dance and shadows move
They move along with nothing to prove
They follow me where as I go
Back and forth to and fro
As the sun goes down they disappear
Leaving me in the dark with nothing but fear
As the sun comes up and shines so free
There they are again shadows following me
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Used
If you give it away
They have won
They will never stay
Only run
Leaving you feeling bare
Lonely and haunted
Never again to care
Used and unwanted
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Out of the Night
They lie there trying to take flight
Talking the dark out of the night
Whispering secrets into your ears
Playing on everything even your fears
They come to you when you are awake
Waiting for your concentration to break
They come to you when you are asleep
Trying to get a scream out of a peep
There they are trying to take flight
Moving out of the day and into the night.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
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| Abstract Rhythms....Time to drop you a line or.....two.....or......
Posted: 12/30/2006 9:11:04 PM | Restless
Feeling restless
Moving slowly
From place to place
No destination
Intended for me
To get to or from
No plans to move
Any faster and I won't
Be able to get there
From here to you
Too far to go
Too much to do
Wanted to see you today
But you weren't around
Makes me wonder
If you are
Feeling restless
With nothing to do
No place to go
No one to see
Looking for me
Looking for you
Pass in the night
Without a fight
For the life we
Could have
If we weren't
Feeling restless
lucidmoments
12/21/2006 00:10 | |
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| Abstract Rhythms....Time to drop you a line or.....two.....or......
Posted: 12/30/2006 10:15:56 PM | I’m blessed with beauty here.
Every word waving through me…
Each soulful impression enlightening my thoughts…
…realizing that at points I respond in haste…
We must honestly admit though…
…there is often-times for war…
Wars of a different venue eyes ah-reckon…
Sons and Daughters of the light…
Attempting to rid our minds and bodies of the Kittim’s Return…
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To each person: Intenzity… Triplebp… Lucidmoments…
In troth… each poem here composed speaks in volumes of human-motions in flight.
It’s my belief to capture what seemeth to come-in passing… for each moment is expressive of the change… that changing riddle in us all.
Blessed be the Truth…
Happy New Year!!! | |
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| Something like a cultic-wave!
Posted: 12/30/2006 11:04:22 PM | Fight against Evil Spirits
“As for me, on account of my fear for God He has opened my mouth,
And through His holy spirit… truth for all [thes]e.
They have become spirits of dispute in my body,
Precept[s of]… [from] the frame of the flesh.
And God has placed in [my] h[eart]
The spirit of knowledge and understanding, truth and righteousness…
And fortify yourself by the precepts of God,
And to fight against the spirit of wickedness and not…
His judgments. Cursed be…”
Dead Sea Scrolls… | |
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| Something like a cultic-wave!
Posted: 12/31/2006 12:17:37 AM | “The quest for wisdom is… faith’s [mysteries]…
The inflexible ways of insight…
…impose discipline unto thy flesh(!)…
[While] imposing discipline to learning the ways of man…
…gaze at the faculties of each spirit…
Gaze into the [motive]s of mankind…
The secrets of the way things are.
The weight of man’s spirit…
Then understand the movement unknown to that man…
…[that moves that man]…
…everything that has happened in him…
…to him and [through him]…
While seeing her, wisdom… [that liveth in him].
Then will you understand that nature of man.
Whatever is left with you guard carefully.
…discipline…
…wisdom…
…insight…
Those things that have been given to… [you]…
Judgment is not affected through the hearing…
…not affected through the seeing…
Be not deceived by vile emotions…
…The All Seeing leads… [you]…
Meditate on the secret of why things …
…are…
Investigate it at all times…
…fearful things [you] will master….”
Dead Sea Scrolls & The Mystic's Inner Voice… | |
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