On Saying what you feel freely


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Let’s not try to define ‘Poetry’

I have been self-indulgent
With the most transient of art-forms
Not music, but poetry
Embracing imagery so light and immediate
As to be considered a kind of jazz

On the beat of the unfinished work
Of moons, on the anonymous audience
That is everywhere and nowhere
Let me ready you some of my
Poetry, it’s just the sign of the whispers

That took me to another level
The comedy of being myself and learning
To be other than what I once was
Most people ignore poetry
Because it doesn’t live in their chords

They don’t have inner guitars
In the heart-chakra, that fit
Upon the little words they use
In the days, in-between their thoughts
I think poetry always lives

In-between people, in the energy
That they release when they
Come into contact with each other
Nobody ever tells us what to read
Poetry’s always dead you know

Reading it is like getting ready to die
And looking at all we have done
And said in retrospect, like a ritual
Of how we summarize meaning.

untitled but for poetry’s page


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Poetry is its own best audience

Poetry is a daily practice
I don’t consider it particularly artistic
More like the spirit of language
Doing therapy on my brain

This is your brain on poetry
So I’ve transformed down the years
A few thousand poems are like
Little green eyes smiling

Like leaves bursting with wind on a tree
Next to your room, close to your soul
Like the ocean in the background
Holding all myth and legend

And the whispers of love that can
Absorb an entire lifetime
Like the memory of romance when
All romance has died long ago

Poetry is a meditation
Of how indebted we are to nature
And how gratitude never runs out
It only returns again and again

Like clouds of delight
And stars at twilight
Money is a kind of poetry
In the extent it lets you live and do anything

Through for inner freedom
Poetry > money in its simplicity
You can take it anywhere
And it will be guaranteed to still possess you

Embrace you, ravish you with
The adventure of time and delight.

Why The Spirit of Poetry Moves Me 


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Why The Spirit of Poetry Moves Me

Poetry is a vibrancy of how
Emotion can shift time-space
A storytelling of first love
Repeated in an indefinite number of degrees

I started reading poetry
After I studied philosophy
So the two seem fused to me
Like a brief delight of everything

And a freedom of hearing Nirvana
Poetry is a written form of
A language that is now silent
You can’t speak it and expect

It to sound the same, it stretches
Across lifetimes and endangers
Even the most well-established security
It’s a universal solvent and dissolves

The illusions of what we supposed
Was stability, for enlightenment
Always aches in us to move on
To further states of mingling

Poetry is like an orgasm of language
It’s the most exciting to write
And over the quickest and has
The most potential attractions

Who cares if people stop reading it
I’ll still be writing it, or pray tell
You can find thousands of these things
If there has been an apocalypse

Shakespeare is praised more than the Bible
Fame exhausts all eulogies
And poetry likes to sink and swoon
Under the weight of the times.

T a l k i n g P o e t r y 


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T a l k i n g P o e t r y

All poetry is an ordered voice
That we can summon forth from
Several stages of our lives
It’s a little voice with big heart

I don’t think poetry
Is something that can be taught
It lives in the brain of lovers

Who can only let it guide them
The very essence of poetry
Lives wild in experience
A first tribal mutation

Of the music of mutation
I like poetry even when I prefer
To write it than read it

It’s wide open and wanders
And wonders in a permanent state of grace
With a mutability of spirit
It’s a vision of what could be

And an ocean of our inner-being
Poetry is the secret in all nouns
And the transcendence of all verbs.

A word about Millennials


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Millennial Horizons

The big doors of the country
Of my youth are closing
I can feel the decades slip away
With student debt, temporary job

Wandering, I’m amazed for millennials
Who thrive on surviving
And must market themselves
As if the world was filled with opportunities

I saw half my friends have children
And get divorced, before I even
Knew what it was to settle down
There were no role-models, only

The feeling that the future was
Coming faster than we could understand.

The Sweet R e s p o n s i b i l i t y


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The Sweet R e s p o n s i b i l i t y

When I wrote on my door
That I wanted to leave my old life
I became a poet of my future
It was hypocrisy to dare
To leave the house that I had bought

I had to sell my old self
To the highest bidder, divorce
Tell me kids I still loved them

Not a soul dared to
Visit me on the other side
I had walked across the garden

Into a new life, where existed
New people to suit the new me:
All that spirits desire, spirits attain
Resting in reason, moving in passion

Across the veils, until sharing pleasures
Become a spiritual thing
The heart finds the sweetness of friendships
A fairly happy version of immortality.

Notes on Gibran


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In Small Acts of K i n d n e s s

I have learned silence
From the excessive noise
Of civilization, the advertisements
Of a hollow existence
I have learned tolerance
From the News, that depicts
Humanity as a violent species
Obsessed with trivial propaganda
I have learned kindness
From the cruel societies that
Explain inequality through
The myth of a meritocracy
And I have learned gratitude
From the frustration of living
In a world that does not practice
Silence, tolerance, kindness, equality.

I Pass Death with the Dying 


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I Pass Death with the Dying

Has anyone supposed they are
Lucky to be born?
In this corner of the Universe
With this kind of a spark?

I watch the nature of my generation
Go extinct, the species
Have their last autumn
While the corporations thrive

And I have to wonder
Where is the gratitude
One of a dominant species
While we spend billions

On military to protect ourselves
From the threat of each other
How shall these worlds
Protect themselves from us?

Has anyone supposed
We disgrace the Earth
In a self-centered kind of dream
Where to profit and have families

Exceeds all other cause?
Has anyone supposed we are
Luck to be born?
And that living is about learning

To give back, I suppose not
We are pragmatic opportunists
More interested in sex, comfort
The survival of our genes

While our institutions like democracy
Have become so corrupt
Half of all people refuse to vote
Has anyone supposed why it is
There are no revolutions anymore?

Begetters of children are busy surviving
Consumers are tricked into buying
For me lips that have smiled
But not for ignorant cities

Built on the destruction of nature
Has anyone supposed
We are lucky to have been born?
In a time of so much change

That machines and supercomputers
Might turn us upon a more righteous path.

I Celebrate S o u l 


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I Celebrate S o u l

The soul is full of reverence
The soul honours your soul
There is no mine or you
It honours the place where we

Reside in the entire universe
And honours light, love, truth, beauty
And peace within you
Because it is also within me

In sharing these things
Our spirits are united
If we didn’t have idealism
Hope for a better future

A sense of equality and justice
The capacity to have revolutions
We would not be one, or have
A common descendent divinity

There is a point in evolution
Where we evolve past this or that
And what I assume you shall assume
And what you dream, I shall live

For all these atoms of our humanity
Belong to a collective-soul
The atmosphere of unity is intimate
While it is transcendent of our body

I am mad for it to be in contact with me
The sniff of green that is a reminder
And we loaf and invite our souls
To govern our lives, like a discovery

Of our most powerful freedom
Who wills to serve divinity must
Intoxicate themselves with higher ideas
To participate in the future requires

A few embraces of altruism
A play in the shine of innovation.

Mother’s D a y 


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Mother’s D a y

Thank you for bringing me
Into the world, Mother
My soul was built upon your love
My spirit blessed by your protection

I trust the world because of you
And claim special joys
For my descendants because
You loved being a Mother

With love and tenderness
That I might multiply it like beauty
In the Universe, and find
Respect and cherish women

More so than all other things
My Mother, you have always been
Like a dear friend, and have allowed me
The freedom to be myself

And in that freedom the Earth-mother
Has spoken to me, of what I need to do
To contribute back to life
All the labours of love

And all the sacrifices
To fight against cold fathers
And the rules of this world
Who hoard and profit while we struggle

These corporations who have
No ethics, barely any authenticity
Towards giving back, community
Thank you Mother, for making me

A feminist, in this world of Patriarchy
Where men exploit women
Rather than learning from them
And fault them for wanting so badly

To have children, like you did Mother
A good mother is irreplaceable
Somebody who is right for the job
It’s not everyone who should be a parent

My mother is my spine, keeping me straight and true
My blood of spiritual minerals
Making it run rich and strong
She is the beating heart of our humanity

Our guide to dreaming water
Our guide how to love ourselves and each other.
Mother, you filled my heart in the first place
With so much goodness, I am kind

A bit each day, like speechless gratitude
That purifies all it touches
It was you who taught me most
“We find ourselves in the sacrifices we make”

That love is to enjoy giving
More than receiving, it is true
The hope for altruism is still strong in me
Because I had a mother like you.

Further reading:

Millennials opting out of Motherhood:
http://mic.com/articles/114040/for-young-women-not-having-children-has-become-the-rational-decision

W e A r e What We T h i n k


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W e A r e What We T h i n k

If we become what we think
To purify the mind should
Should be our priority
The mind is everything

So let us not dwell on the past
Or dream too much of the future
But love the present as
The greatest gift, like

Health, wealth, faithfulness
And learn to love too
The nature of change who
Can be aggressive or docile

Peace comes from within
Conquer yourself with acceptance
Love yourself with surrender
The shadow’s good health requires

That we become less attached to our shadow
The patterns we fabricate
As comfortable routines of dysfunction
The shadow is what we must act upon

Holding on to anger or giving words
To sadness to ourselves
If we become what we think
We must laugh at our shadow

Convince it to dissolve
For we have to work our own salvation
Do not depend on others for it
They will not have time to care for it.

The World is Fading 


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The World is Fading

Writing is thinking on paper
Poetry is music on air
Someday I’ll know how not to be a fool
Not to be attached and insist
For beyond teachings, I’ve learned

Tenderness, and beyond hurt
I’ve learned compassion
Until my heart became clear

And I was resolved to peace
Attuned to soul
Surrendered to spirit
I need to give up what
No longer works and take up new

Ways of being that keep us close
To what matters, like divinity
Writing is thinking in narratives

Poetry is communion with the infinite
The poet has enough flowers
To doze in dream worlds
My poems are not poems
They are how I speak to nature.