| when it calls*
Posted: 1/24/2008 3:22:47 PM | Great writes NW...deep and penetrating!
oh!...and thank you! I am humbled by your words.
Today, is the day
that tomorrow forgot,
caught in turmoil,
lost in it's purpose,
holding souls
captive,
within it's web,
weaving it's labyrinth,
muffling the screams
of those few
desolate spirits,
still locked
in it's grasp. | |
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| when it calls*
Posted: 1/24/2008 9:51:27 PM | | i thank you, mandrake. and i only wrought the truth. god bless! | |
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| Abstract Rhythms
Posted: 1/24/2008 10:11:27 PM | heart broken feels yet that childs breath
frozen caught within snows carress
as shadows we dance amongst shadow of doubts
linger sence feel
just because
Passion
is
feeling | |
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| Abstract Rhythms
Posted: 1/25/2008 7:13:16 PM | | firststp.... it's forever a pleasure, my friend.... i hope that all is well. | |
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| Abstract Rhythms
Posted: 1/25/2008 7:23:02 PM | energies gather
like moths to a flame
like minded souls
seeking exceptance within the frame
awarness hightens
senses are keen
communities forming where kaos has been | |
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| Abstract Rhythms
Posted: 1/25/2008 7:27:26 PM | ^^^^^^^^^^^^
Indeed,
kindred energies awake’n
in soul,
One Spirit,
the encompass
of our ancestry…
the first thought,
ever beckon'd. | |
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| Abstract Rhythms
Posted: 1/27/2008 5:57:32 PM | Hysteria
by T. S. Eliot
As she laughed I was aware of becoming involved in her
laughter and being part of it, until her teeth were
only accidental stars with a talent for squad-drill. I
was drawn in by short gasps, inhaled at each momentary
recovery, lost finally in the dark caverns of her
throat, bruised by the ripple of unseen muscles. An
elderly waiter with trembling hands was hurriedly
spreading a pink and white checked cloth over the rusty
green iron table, saying: "If the lady and gentleman
wish to take their tea in the garden, if the lady and
gentleman wish to take their tea in the garden ..." I
decided that if the shaking of her breasts could be
stopped, some of the fragments of the afternoon might
be collected, and I concentrated my attention with
careful subtlety to this end. | |
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| Abstract Rhythms
Posted: 1/27/2008 7:27:31 PM | Stranger
You, stranger,
come forth and
sweep me off my
angel-winged fortress
in the sky
and press me between
your pages like
a lovely flower
withered with time
and age, yet it remains
pressed between the pages. | |
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| Abstract Rhythms
Posted: 1/29/2008 8:04:02 AM | ^^^^^^^^^ah! very deep. very real.
i thank you for placing it here. | |
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| Abstract Rhythms
Posted: 1/29/2008 11:28:50 AM | Thank you NW. I am truly flattered to be complimented by you  | |
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| Abstract Rhythms
Posted: 1/29/2008 8:26:13 PM | I stand out in the wind and rain
God please know I am not insane
For giving is the moral way
Yet my strength with evil
Gone away!
Hath I stand and spit in rain
It only hits my face again!
So let me stand up for my soul
If not for me? Who at all?
I have faced so many devils
Many not of my own endeavors
Yet I stand up , brave and tall
Knowing, you have seen it all!
 J.  | |
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| Abstract Rhythms
Posted: 1/30/2008 10:02:33 PM | "I have faced so many devils
Many not of my own endeavors
Yet I stand up , brave and tall
Knowing, you have seen it all!"
^spiritual!
to me indeed!
the entire poem was a pleasure to read. | |
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| spirit motion
Posted: 2/1/2008 5:23:45 AM | The melody is
Enormous this choir…
Concertos of the heart!
Into Divinity I enter
And I pause.
This trance engulfs me…
There and whole…
I AM. | |
|
| spirit motion
Posted: 2/1/2008 5:40:08 AM | For me in me
It’s all cryptic.
I’m a secret in myself.
And what is this self?
But in this ocean—this
Ocean in me—I swim—
Making my home in me.
Is this virtue—or is this vice.
It is all. It is nothing. It
Is everything! It is divided;
But ONE. | |
|
| spirit motion
Posted: 2/1/2008 5:53:59 AM | Carayapada 50
Poet: Sabarapada, Raga Ramakri
The third garden-house lies in the skies.
When the axe within the mind cuts off the illusion,
the young maiden 'nairatma' wakes up,
like the tight net Bliss with the Void Woman by his side.
Discard and leave the live of the world.
Sabara is in great Bliss with the Void Woman by his side.
In my third house of this great universe
Suddenly a beautiful white 'Kapash' bursts open.
Look! Moonlight blooms over the garden of the third house.
The sky is in full blossom.
Kanguchinas are ripe, Sabar- Sabari become intoxicated.
Day after day passes and Sabar feels nothing.
He is enamoured by great happiness.
A four pole bamboo bed is made ; on it Sabara is burnt.
For him the jackal and the vultures cried.
It is the death of existence.
Sacrifice is offered in all ten directions.
Sabara met Narvan, Sabara is no more. | |
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| spirit motion
Posted: 2/1/2008 6:47:26 AM | Nature’s Reflection
The bell tolls
in the silence of the lamb
villagers rest shrouded in
a cocoon of peace
spread white, like butter to bread
with a diaphanous instrument
of timeless silver
humble
as nature sweeps the landscape
with her broom of awareness
Still
the birds rejoice
in the storm
their vantage point
high in the trees
how lovely
their voices sound
amidst the shutting down
of industry
and fast pace delusions. | |
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| spirit motion
Posted: 2/1/2008 6:56:52 AM | | ^^^^^^^^Autumn! your writes are always so vivid and clear. i love every depiction. you make the art move through us. i thank you for this. | |
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| energy in motion
Posted: 2/1/2008 7:15:55 AM | Fingers carving sensation trails
Along skin surfaces
Lips pulsating and producing
Throbbing heat
Hands crying, desiring; minds of their own
Feet digging, arching, pointing, flattening
Themselves out in dance
Breaths, beat, cut, shorten, prolong
Creating music
Eyes close, open
Roll back
The body awakens
Memory stored
Energy vibrant
At every nerve end | |
|
| energy in motion
Posted: 2/2/2008 8:39:42 AM | | WOW! Indeed! a cycle very familiar. indeed, indeed. | |
|
| energy in motion
Posted: 2/13/2008 8:39:39 PM | Happy Valentine's Day!
Tonight and Tomorrow night, Physically act out until it literally hurts. Make him or her beg you to stop. LOL! | |
|
| vipasyana
Posted: 2/17/2008 3:10:03 PM | Duhkha*
Stillness! And to feel
the very salaciousness
of our spirit’s nature!—the
heavenly lakes, buoyancy of
our very core. Feel
in us
all is sanguinary; and thus,
the blood is the life; and thus, eat not
of the blood; but in viciousness we
drain the
blood; the spirit-blood, in
pursuit of moksa; falling short
ere the gate of parinirvana. This
is cruelness; the great mockery of
subsistence; the first awakening!—
the ultimate product of prajna. | |
|
| vipasyana
Posted: 2/17/2008 3:24:55 PM | Vipasyana*
From-out the prayer-beads, cometh
more resurrections of the mirror—
our oneness-reflection of Divinity—
are we not one heart! Our we not
one pulsation! We are too a glint
of infinity—a neverending
concentration of the cycle. I—
I thought, ergo, I became. | |
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| vipasyana
Posted: 2/17/2008 3:26:49 PM | Vibrations*
We yearn for
release; but this too is an illusion. | |
|
| vipasyana
Posted: 2/17/2008 3:28:34 PM | Epiphany*
Through dhyana, we shall appear.
Albeit alone, in a darkness unto an
hospice, we shall appear in
utterance of eureka. | |
|
| vipasyana
Posted: 2/19/2008 7:29:27 PM | yet still sleeping
the words
in primordial
swirl
will seep
through the Id
then leaping
snap into
the sleeping
synapses
reappearing
in the recalcitrant
reaping | |
|
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