The Secrets of Both Worlds

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I pray that I can still die to myself,

Yet walk the earth sowing compassion –

To meditate in speech and design patters

Of enlightenment-in-relationship,

Joining hands and stepping into the serenity,

An unworldly place where we all meet,

That the only true identification is abstract,

The principle which governs all life, transcends,

Wrapped up in an external life, yet internally free,

I pray that I shall be a vehicle, for some undiscovered force,

A signature of the secrets of existence,

A beam of intelligence and feeling upon the sediment,

Intoxicated by that which is most essential,

The incomparable love of purest subjectivity.

Book of the Sylvan Histories

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If I could breathe one breath of the truer life!

What daily acts would my soul hasten forth,

Of marble ages overwrought with beauty’s gleam,

And the streets that have sunk to the bottom of the seas,

If I could give lips and words to tragedies of before,

And piping songs to the striving quest for re-birth,

How I marvel as the centuries pour and move,

Unwearied of the toil of each brave venture,

Whose leaves bid every spring Adieu, good year,

All life in human passion must love and contend,

The ancients walk in new forms again, the charm of new bodies,

Youth; the novelty of melodies as bold as before,

In mad pursuit of the feeling of being alive,

The elusive harp music which fades near the back of each mind.   

Question for the Masses - A time for everything under the heavens, and death!

Kindly and gently ponder please the following psychological journey:

1. If you died tomorrow, what would you most regret NOT doing or accomplishing in your life?

2. As your spirit would soar upwards to the 'beyond' galaxies what would you be thinking?

3. Which two people would miss you the most?

Artistic Poverty

I found my life pleased, in not succeeding very well,

By traditional standards dashed, but subjective glory still,

Raw as a spine fed but only once per a day,

No breakfast for my brain this morning I suspect,

But morning is aligned with night in my life, so in smiling to myself,

I better appreciate each ‘day’ under the microscope,

This present touch, the greatest hour,

My melted fire, my angel’s choir,

The pitter-patter dreams sinking into a trance of stone,

A realization that the Venus in me is almost undressed,

And peeking indiscreetly I find myself in love,

More with the thought of ‘the other’ than with the responsibility,

I find my life so very pleased, defining my own equivalent to health!

What do Women Want?

I told you the girl with the pink socks was going to be good for me, okay well, there was that one awesome converation at the pub at least.....anyhow.....

This is Magenta: she rocks btw:

http://fanclub.ms/magenta

Like a death cab for cutie song gone wrong, I shall prevail, maybe a couple of months down the road, maybe tomorrow, but i will.

You May Say That I am a Dreamer

Beneath the fluttering curtains of vacant looks,

I know these frozen streets have secrets to offer,

For in this stubborn breast my only faith is love,

Not for some weakness of my youth, but because

Of my soul’s choice of experience, what makes me grow,

You may smash the idols of my dreamy looks,

With a great systemization of this world’s realism,

Which slowly turns its bottomless stare upon me,

Not as fruitful as the conversation of a good woman,

But as needy for me to act upon my desires, if I ever

Wish to possess the wealth and culture which I once sought,

Maybe there is no divine kiss waiting for me tomorrow,

But my future being both kind and terrible,

Pulls me to some far horizon I can no longer envision…

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