The Wonder 1.

Though the principle is faint
The heart craves that purity
The Way is silent, she call us
The Love, it cannot be named it is not human
Heaven and Earth, are not what they seem
The mystic feels behind everything
Forms are but gorgeous biology and its creation
Poverty and simplicity are too real
Many creatures learn to meditate
In their own way, at their right time
Through the principle is faint
It is there, the unity that draws all to its center
Bring the first big bang of growth
Where galaxies spin out to the reaches
The soul still longs for something
That cannot be felt by the senses alone
Mystery on mystery but always near
Far and subtle, but so intimate
Peaceful and perfect, yet the missing element
The spirit’s search beckons after
All familiar failures and all brief success
It’s what comes after and before
It’s what believes not in belief but questioning.

Arcades of Cadence

 

The poem of the mind is a final act
An act of longing with the universe
The script was a language
And the talent was a heart

As simple as a rain drop or a snow flake
The architect was a feeling universe
The women of the time, the something else

That made us a theater and that
Brought golden souvenirs as subjects
Allows us to feel more than we could speak

The poems would suffice, for a
Life where the scene was always setting
Repeated in an light that was always evening
Sunsets that constructed a stage
That was always glowing, it was like

Words spoken to the thin rare luminous air
Of moonlight, morning mist and the face
Of a Beloved that wasn’t an audience but

An actor, maybe created by our own imagination
That was how we survived and revealed ourselves
To ourselves, and those were the feelings that

Were rightfully ours, the finding of a satisfaction
That all life feels, the poems passing through
Wheels of light to return above some mountain tops.

My Fabric was made by deep organ-notes

I have been quiet a long while
Through my soul wet with spirit
Though my heart whole with love
Though my passion righteous

With strange infinitude
I have not any body of royalty’s sign
I’ve grown old, weak, alone
Haloed with my mystic literature

I uncoil beauty’s parting
And the sun’s goodbye to youth
And there is no wine-flush left
No opalescent hope for prosperity

I am all that I will ever be
From becoming to indignity
My compassion has been ministered
Upon this Earth in little bursts

And that’s enough for whichever
Strange singer’s mind gave birth to me
I am the cosmos suddenly poor
Suddenly curious for a weary lifetime.

Proud Artists Breed Poetry for Themselves

I will continue to work
In silence and obscurity
Loving what I do more than anyone
In this tiny world full of profiteers
I won’t profit from my art

It will rest like a blanket of
My most intimate identity
I have not a broken heart for myself
But a broken heart for this young world
That cannot seem to find its soul

Any relic of the dead is precious
And as such, the spirit of poetry
Lives on in me, like a light

That burns with the measures
Of all human words and love stories
For finally, it’s relationships
Which define and frame

Whatever uniqueness we most cherish
Comes from the dreams
I’ve had for my entire life
Though my ideas and the people
That surround me may have changed

Time and space conspire for my destiny
That my greatest love has always been
The quiet tranquility of sitting in a room
Bathed in the upstart unlimited imagination
Of the muse that can set you free.

Stuff We Learned

Eun Ji, if people forget what we said?
I don’t mind, I just want to open my eyes
With my soul, for a day
Make people feel the flush

Of love’s light and the costs
Of living for a better world
For no price is too steep to pay
For that, we have to live by those voices

That love indeed recognizes no boundaries
No barriers and we write to leap fences
We celebrate with our lines full of hope
Cascading for an open heart

Racing for an open mind
We write to lift the veils from our own eyes
That we might see others as ourselves
And decide not to be reduced by our tragedies

And grow from every encounter
And innately feel how everything in the universe
Has a rhythm and we are a part of that
Eun Ji, how easy it is to accept

That we can be changed by people
Permanently, by the quality of their tenderness
The strength of their values and convictions
It’s time we no longer apologize for who we are.

Freedom Undesigned

Freedom Undesigned

If your soul was born invisible
If your soul was born with wings
Where to would it roam
Above these human things
Beyond the hunger and the gluttony
This rampant consumerism
So out of touch with universal reality
So primal and prehistoric, like a teenage race
Tied to the objects they design
If your soul had freedom
If your soul had impressive momentum
What in heaven or on Earth would it need?
I have two foes in the whole world
And they are named ignorance and poverty.

I Celebrate S o u l

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.

It Fled from A l l M y E c s t a s y

It Fled from A l l M y E c s t a s y

Whoever has found himself, his soul
Must only seek obedience of divinity
What is divinity but the most natural
A longevity of following inner-beauty

Fading morning star to light of dawn
He who praises must become
Cup of gratitude, and luck of empathy
Found on the journey is the

Secret of compassion
Until we stop being so religious
And stop being so materialistic
Only then can we find the thread

The river of divine happiness
And peace like silence that hums
Tender offing of the soul’s common speech
In prayer, meditation, poetry, art

The ecstasy that the white birds bring
The heart behind the veil
This is what the angels weep
To unfurl its thousand saying voices
The arms of divine beauty are supremely glad.

Ovation of Ecstasy #Sufism #Mysticism

Ovation of Ecstasy

i

I want my whole life to be a prayer
Even after all this time
Of forgetfulness
Something in me meditates
With white-fire for soul-eyes

An awake heart is like
A sky that pours light
And that’s my mantra
I secretly try to give something
To each person that I meet

ii

Like a hidden clause
Ready to burst out
In times of adversity
From every angle of darkness
I accept my humanity

With beautiful dimensions of trust
The spirit can be a lonely place
Remembering God, quenching
So much freedom
All a sane man ever cares about

iii

Is giving Love
It takes a lifetime to accomplish
Properly, as citizen, partner, friendly stranger
If I could just
Start seeing everything as God

I’d have a secret
For the rest of my days
And through the eyes of angels
I’d be amazed
Not for the God of names

Or the God of don’ts
But the feeling of silence
And playfulness
“Come Dance with Me”
My mystical partner would sing.

Psalms of the Organic source #quote #refuges

Psalm of Souls

The spirit is a beacon
And the righteous run to it and are safe
Among those whose faith is pure
How fine their company
Trusting in what is sure

The universe becomes a world of understanding
Our path becomes straight
The world strengths and helps us
And our righteousness is reflected
Back unto us, for good deeds multiply

Do not let your hearts be troubled
For in giving peace, peace may you receive
But take heart, even unkind men
Have a glimmer of hope
And nations in strife crave the faith

Benevolent acts are our refuge and our warmth
In giving we become free of our own troubles
Therefore focus on the on high
To make thy will pure with ease
Look upon the mountains and the skies

We were not given a timid spirit
But a spirit captured by the power of love
And the heart of self-discipline
That was born to love all creatures
And do good works unto this world

In bonds of mutual faith, good works become
Doing our spirit’s will and lifelong salvation
It is found in shouts of joy and bearing
Witness to the small victories of others
As if it were our own, how fine the company

Of our sisters and brothers in this place
The fraternity of all souls is my refuge
A community as large or small
As my heart is willing to bear
I preserve life according to words

Words that are my sacred weapons
Words that are my soul’s quality
Words that stream forth in amazement
Words that embrace and answer me
With the kindness of others
And the tenderness of life’s many wonders.

Beauty is not caused in her

Beauty is not caused in her

If love is immortality
How shall I love more clearly?
The day and eternity
In the collection of this necessity

They might not need me
But they might, and her
The her of my smile and sight
For her my soul stands ajar

Ready to welcome
In ecstatic experience
The small perch of her song
Will she sing to me?

Hope being a feather of will
Unable are the loved to die
For her possibility is my breath
When my whole body

Is so warm that no cold can take me
That is poetry, and that is grace
Morning without her
Is a dwindled dawn of orange

My nerves sit and wait in pink
Ceremonious to be alive.

This is descendent divinity

Art courtesy of: http://www.deviantart.com/art/Flare-516580147

I taste the liquor
Of descendent divinity
What is it? It is like the Tao
It cannot be named and it is

A mystical portion of evolution
It is the spirit brewed in Man
The soul in the girl child
That is too sensitive for life

Life in her cruelty and brutality
I taste the water
Of lifetimes, of the infinite
And smell the fragrance

Of forever, scooped in pearl
Inebriate of air I am,
Reeling, through an endless
Encounter with seasons

That I am so intimate with
I can nearly get drunk
On golden bees and lilac sunsets
It’s enough to be alive

Some days, no need to be a saint
I taste liquor on the breath
Of youth in an old body
Like mine, leaning against the sun!

Cloud of Mercy

Art courtesy of: http://www.deviantart.com/art/her-eye-wanders-511915830

The heart is burning with separation
What can cure it?
God, divine love, unity

The mind is weary of anonymity
In an uncaring world
What can cure it?
God, divine love, unity

The day of judgement is upon thee
Who can face it?
Your soul with god, divine love, unity
So the soul becomes the loyal friend

After personality has
Faded away and time has given up
Poetry remembers all of this

And that is why we write
The Beloved is an empathy
As wide as the universe

Suffering brings us close to the goal
So do not recoil from it
What can save you?

God, divine love, unity
Like a lost bliss in creation itself
Or a high smile evolution’s brilliance

What can cure the choices we make…
You know already the spiritual condition.

Poetry of the Human Psyche

What is this poetry, you keep talking about
This poetry, you keep becoming
Like a neurological stimulation
You can’t give up!?

An imported art for the few
From some peculiar time
When people read and spoke of

Their innermost feelings
Is poetry to be felt as something
Fundamental, then, or a shape produced

Or a fictional narrative
Or a sculpture of nature reproducing
Something or copying something other
An architecture of the human condition?

A caricature then, a blank slate that is
Never truly neutral or objective at all?
Or a failure to integrate into reality?

Some verbal instrument of our subjectivity
A popular language of futility
Like philosophy, or something to be hidden
By teenagers on secret blogs

All appearances do seem fallacious
And we disdain to be ourselves classified
As the formerly neurotic, or spontaneously flawed

But who cares, we trace our own definitions
Right down to the words we choose to affirm
However our psyche breathes, however
Our art can account for our genes

In these environments, this snapshot of history
These ruined cities and corrupted nations
So poetry is not meant to convince or persuade

But to reveal, offering a sense of
The human to the intelligence machine
And offering a sense of the past to the future
A passion of the elementary kind

We wrote our best poems when young
Considered poetry, it’s an elegance of interpretation
Which takes greatest delight in hearing

Our own voice, like a vanity of our griefs
That’s the state of society, measured
In linguistic trends and masquerading as art.

Karma Dragons

We all invent a face for ourselves
A life to lead, experiences
To intrinsically alter our
Soul’s DNA, our evolutionary quotient

We lived and died
And were reborn as other people
We all required a narrative
To live in order to get

Where we are going
That which is at the heart of learning?
We get wrinkles on our faces
Our wrinkles have no faces

We are a spirit luminous
Trembling in a garden of flesh
How the trees lean together
And whisper in the night

We should know social bonds
Not simple be, a single
Monotonous intensity of identity
But know, what we experience

Others experience, symmetrically
We all invent a life for ourselves
A path to tread, a body of experiences
The calligraphy of the birds

Or the dire poverty of
A marketplace exploited by others
We were animals with
Radiant hands, and still had

A good land for dreaming
And I still begged for moderation and simplicity
To be tied to time with a light thread.

Self-Portrait of a Poet

I wish I was twenty and in love with life
And still wanted to change
To change the world
Inwards, old brain!

Who has the heart of a universe
There is no adversity
Only the opportunities
Given by evolution

Roses and blooming
For those who see God
In created things
I wish I was twenty and

So ready to make a self-portrait
That had dreams beyond ambition
And still wanted to love
The goodness of this world

Onwards, fantastic spirit!
We have lives for this yet
And hours, and days, and years.

Cup of Sachitananda

The cosmos has hid
divine herbs in our dreams
and one day upon
the west river we

shall all awake
to see truth, to live
in the light, and

in those blue flames
of the dawn, hope
will no longer be necessary

and faith will seem immature
for supramental identity
will be self-evident

alone, spring’s floods will
drip the bliss of worlds
and the grace will overwhelm
any circumstance of fate
by the ocean of poetry

in the forests of prophecy
on the beaches of mysticism
the Tao will reveal herself

to our mind like a sponge
of all the secrets of the
universe and synchronicity

spellbound for consciousness
as a boat drifts to the sun
creation and the great observer

will meet, and we will forever
be left speechless with the awe
of laughter empty of anxiety
and understanding mingling

with a pure love for all things.

Psalm 20 – Life Work

O Lord, I’ve seen creatures find salvation
In the manifestation of their life work
A destiny fulfilled in the prime
Of a person’s native potential

The full expression of their wisdom
The blessing of their goodness. Selah.
That’s the undeniable point of existence
A soul’s mission here on this planet

To learn and find an exalted cause
That gives one’s life a focus, a concentrated
Aim, it could be simple or even obvious
It could be a private endeavor gone unrecognized

Thou shalt bring each one to their light
O God, that burns with your strength in them
Let them find their native power and liberty
And their inner-sun through the trials

Let them eat the fruit of their attainments
Which gave the tribulations a context
And let their growth be the stepping stone
To future lives, a succession of incarnations

That develops a harmony of purpose
Across many bodies, in many stories
In the narrative of their power and experience
Be thou exalted in them Lord, in one way or another

That their nature might find the strength
To create their most potent source in matter
And energy, in lines of mind and symbols
In society, with the love they have leased
From eternity, for a mortal moment.

Photo Courtesy: http://www.deviantart.com/art/Sofia-491968246

I Came Here

I came here
As I write these lines
Not as a poet, preacher, prophet
But at random, an explorer
Of language, this first
Invention, I find it very fine

Finer than many of our
New things, I embrace
The lineage of poet-saints
And eat the mystic rhetoric
For breakfast, all to have a

Feast of the mind, a daybreak
Of the soul, that is not
Contrived by economic murmur
The first light, the dispersion
Of the birds makes me feel free

Like the music behind verse
I came here
As I write these lines
As a simple fool & observer
Careful to maintain my silence

In this world of propaganda
Careful to maintain my purity
In these times of great corruption.

A Gift of God

Mother of my Angels
Master and spouse of my
Soul’s bread and water

Come to me, in simple purity
All that I am is yours
My possessions mean nothing
To me, my ownership is not
Something I value, I seek

The universal frenzy of thy bliss
And peace beyond the goodwill
Or ill will of men, their politics

I tire of their customs of ignorance
Let my cavalry be a spiritual vocabulary
The last touch of prayer before
The world changes, as I change
Along with the world, as is

My divine inheritance of this world
Of poverty, these heart-broken people
Their sadness is my sadness, but

My compassion, will it ever reach
Its perfect age? Will I ever know
The fulfillment of my empathy?
Or shall I be as a secret friend to life
Who gave to life only secret signs

And hidden signals? Who will know
My face that lived for the Will of God
The faith of each one’s true experience?

Photo Courtesy:

http://www.deviantart.com/art/Lake-490814078

The Soul Achieves Herself without effort

Gradual is our relationship
with the grace behind nature
another spectral October Fall
how the wizard sun confines

and the flamingo sunsets wave goodbye
the fires ebb, the flowers cease
their sport, the stars wink
at snowflakes on their fall

to carpet a sparkling web
sapphire moments drift by
at dusk in the cities
there is a soft glimmer

in the streets, it is cold outside
as we bow one by one into
our brief solitude, with visions
to guide us for the labours of tomorrow

paralyzed by the savings of gold
or the lack of savings in our bank accounts
the wisdom of life is a brief release
the details we once scrutinized

no longer seem so important after all
to live a good life, means different things
at separate points in our story
and nothing in the end intoxicates

like the God neurochemical
call it what you will, the spirit
lives on after all these subplots
the search for a diviner brand

of metaphysics, philosophy, utopia
until there are no visitors to our soul
but a diviner truth, a more united feeling
gradual is our relationship
with what’s beyond the scope of years.

Photo Courtesy:

1. http://www.deviantart.com/art/Be-on-the-road-with-warmly-thoughts-482560577
2. http://www.deviantart.com/art/Deer-Collaboration-483167431

Visions opened after a Human Lifetime

No and Yes
We’ve seen it all, this duality
The mind, body

The two syllables of love
If the world is real
We will have died
If the world is unreal
We will have lived

It’s the cleft between
All beginnings, and all ends
The male and female part of us

That speaks through all significant others
Talking about to us
What does it say?
Words are unreal
Experience evaporates

Silence rests all speech
Smiles foretell all energy
The exchange that does not end

With a you, or with a me
Unreality of form
Turning into spirit
Reality of spirit
Spilling into space-time

No and Yes
Free finally of
Exclamations, pauses and questions

Free to dizzily wander
The whirlwind and the flow
Fluid like there is no tomorrow
In the plaza of the mind
What is indeed possible?

Language like water
Between your breasts
Thrives for symbols

Objects & apparitions
Wood and stone
So much to commit to conversation
And so much a silent dialogue.

Photo Courtesy:
AGNES CECILE
https://www.facebook.com/agnescecile
http://agnes-cecile.deviantart.com/gallery/23399055/Featured
https://www.youtube.com/user/agnescecile
https://www.facebook.com/SilviaPelissero

The soul has a time-ridiculing roar

The soul is as an unseen Swan
Drifting down the black river
With only stars to stream the light across

And only light to make the river
Seem more bright, a perfect commotion
Of silk, snow, lilies, the flexibility of matter
Creation, the soul feels no bondage
With an armful of white blossoms

I’m sure the soul smiles even when
We appear to be at our worst
Down and out and suffering

As if there were no tomorrow
The soul sways and is partially hidden
It known no dark music, only stretching
Down the river like a waterfall
Discovering something for the

Inner evolution of form and whistling
The background music of everything
Quantum variables speaking new languages

The soul listens for the bulb of love
As rain pelting the tops of trees
And clouds over the river in a season
That is between seasons, for which
There are far too few names

The soul is an onlooker of the most mischievous
Parodies, smiling at the drama of last week
Piloting dreams for learning situations

Laughing at the calendar whose touch
Is bleak weather, irony of shaded routines
Patron, portion, logistic of the mother-instinct
In us all, the soul doesn’t find necessity hard at all
There is no bottom to the soul, it catches us on the other end.

Photo Courtesy: http://www.deviantart.com/art/Swan-199231681

Morning Song

Art Courtesy of: http://www.deviantart.com/art/Nature-s-Embrace-478706780

Every morning
The world is created &
I am a new person

Purified by the tips of orange
Alive with sticks of the sun
Patting me, caressing me
Aching in me to be somebody new
And summer pushes me enlightening

My spirit in phases of existence
For hours I am drunk in
The possibilities of who I could be

But the day has its plan for me
As I submit to the light everywhere
I can feel it secretly working in me
Every morning
I awake to a harmony

That is lighter than snow
More wise than the sound
Of migrating birds, more deep

Than the green that always returns
And my prayers are no longer
Loud, but a part of the silence
From which all prayers come and go
Every morning

The world is created &
I am a new person
With the ashes of night

Sparkling in my chest
Like the reminder of past lifetimes
And in my soul I carry
Thorns like jewels
And it has become my nature

To be happy, to share it
To gift it as if soft trails
Of happiness existed everywhere.

After 100 Sonnets

I was born with an enormous need for affection, and a terrible need to give it.
~ Audrey Hepburn

i

My ugly love, when you are so beautiful
to me it’s not enough for my mouth
whose kisses routinely bathe you

in an inventory of whispers, love-cries
with tenderness for however long
nature allows, you allow, fate allows
flower by flower, I would choose you
again and again, my loving angel

ii

Your body’s fragrance is my
shadow’s energy, your humid flesh
the channel of my dreams

if also for our child, who forgot to incarnate?
my truthful love, so sincere and honest
with armpits like the smell of wheat
and breasts as impetuous as a stormy sea
and eyes like wildfire, cutting me

iii

Into sweet obedience, I could not imagine
that I could have built a house of
sweetness without your splendor

and how you love cherries, your cheeks
an Asian wispy elven secret of youth
my soul-engaging love, I have to remind myself
we are getting older together in
beloved months, we sometimes forget the details

iv

Of why nothing mattered or had a name
except each other, we were made for this
an alchemy of spirits, while our shared beauty

allowed us to endure poverty
with gifts as plentiful as sparking
moments of gratitude that went on forever
like lessons learned from wise calming friends
and lovers that felt like they were

v

Gifts from the gods, plump-wide-eyed
spiritual dreams of some strange mineral belonging
we walk naked through the golden church

of our earthy love, as if we learned to be
one body, one shared soul wearing
clothes of separate bodies, laughing minds.

redeemer divinity sweet

Let your soul stand cool and composed before a million universes.
~ Walt Whitman

divinity is not a language
of the mind, but a gift
that resides in the heart

from the Universe to all
and a new music there
and a serene vision that excels
an undying faith that

loves inner beauty easily
and observes time’s children
with a kind of equality

divinity is not a skill
that can be used, or hoarded
it’s in the fields, and the air
its sphere is the light

that bathes all the stars
its atoms mix the purest joy
with all existence, behind the pain

an essential delight of experience
that no creatures can hide for long
of splendid origin, and new light
in hands of god, in kisses from the Earth

divinity leaves a trace and it says:
‘you’re saved, you called me,
you made me, body, life and soul’

soul never ceases

“What Is Love? I have met in the streets a very poor young man who was in love. His hat was old, his coat worn, the water passed through his shoes and the stars through his soul”
― Victor Hugo

Incited by something internal
Love feeds the centuries
nothing but her attention

everything in her devotion
you believe you act for your self
but it guides you, incited by
the light of your soul that is

an evolutionary spark of quantum
intelligence, a psychic source of love
and also its food, beauty and intimacy

which never grows scarce
wisdom and good works
these are her instruments
harmony, gratitude, compassion, peace

so use them like small lamps
in your life, feed them with
attention, practice, active service

as a diamond fountain gushing forth
as divine roses, the sea of truth
your spirit prepares all obstacles.

POETRY: II

We learned how to live from:
Our inner being, the writer that awoke
It wasn’t transformation or escape
It was nurture-nature in her infancy

Our brain listening to our soul’s
Weary shreds of music, poised holograms of
Roses left hung in mid-air
Our words shimmered there like magic

In a corner of the night, it was there –
We taught ourselves what we most
Loved, it wasn’t knowledge, but art
The appreciation of mortality

From the background murmuring
Of the strangest physics, indolent lines
Of our youth while the water was running
A criminal joy of clarifying grammer

The mutable starts fixing their gaze on us
For a brief instant of prophecy and poetry
We learned how to live from it:
The beaded threads of fierce lines

That died for beauty, and loved the frailest
Etching of invisible messages
We married our mothertongues
In deft strokes of secret litanies
The conception, of whatever a poet is.

Elements of God

At last my heart Sees the world with new eyes God may not be available But compassion and empathy They are equal parts Of the Forgiveness-sky The compassion-sea Always easily available At last my heart Meets unconditional surrender I shall …

The Privilege to Write

I travel in words, as some Would travel on feet I call my home, the written word Though in her curious rooms I’ve found a part of myself The Inn to which I am most fond Where in language I …