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.

After False Disasters of Failure

 

Let me not let God in the house
But instead let nature in my brain
With an open heart for all that is sacred
Gratitude, compassion, empathy
Can I live my life by these simple things?
I care not what happens to me
If I die a fool, alone, that is my fate
I don’t require faith, to appreciate
Let not idols of men be my guide
I am the spirit incarnate of all
I am the sweetness or the rise and the fall
When there is light, I am humble
Where there is darkness, I am graceful
Let me not let greed or comfort too close
But in experience find my course
That is not sure, but flexible
That I am not strong, but vulnerable
With an open heart for the credence of summer
Opened by the fragrance of spring.

The Last Wanderer

The Last Wanderer

Not far enough, my mystic soul has strained
Not real enough, my heart aflame
The trance of truth must be undone
All philosophy discarded again

For the lone beautiful Tao
That knows not a higher life
But only how to be
There is no sheer God

Outside of this enlightened brain
Only a cosmic energy
A veiled beauty everywhere
The music’s grip of gold

The muse’s shade of divinity
I know it well, I used to love it timelessly
O’ truth-soul, I’ve seen the wonder
Not of the world but of other worlds

And I long for them, as you long for memory
I have no memory but the spirit’s stuff
The dawn for me is the splendid cup
God is not asleep, he is dead

So let me learn the stars again
Upon new terms discover old truths
And be as a supramental thing
Prayer after pray, step after step
Breath to the light, of all body and mind.

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.

Dying into Descendents

Artist is Naomi, Montreal. http://naomipaints.com/gallery/mosaics/

Dying into Descendents

Someday, somewhere, in this life

You’ll find yourself hungry

For a freedom from the necessity

Of hope or despair

To be an animal is not

The only way of being

Everything carries you to her

The evolution of your mind

How your soul aches to be

Something else, better

A future of instant information

With senses as great as galaxies

And cells and nodes like planets

And continents, that’s how

The future will feel like

Until then, enjoy your biology

Those small desires and human monotony

You won’ get to keep what you have

Not even who you once were

So borrow and blend until

You and I meet again

As the hymns that fill the worlds

As the lights that are born from stars.

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.

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.

The sight of you Amazes me

for Syl65

The sight of you Amazes me

Love is
Where I laid my living body
Where I gave it rest
In the miracle of celebration
That comes from the

Most spiritual feeling
Love is
Seeing life through
The eyes of Angels
Where my heart must rest

Away from human love
But in the depths of bliss
Start seeing everything as God
Keep it a secret
It doesn’t take long

To transform the misery
Of a life, into something
Sublime, like a prayer
That floats gently into the night
Love is

Where I gave my soul away
To a cause that brought
The heights of harmony
Down for a day, infinite existence
Reincarnates having turned to ash

As I neared God, I found
I couldn’t look away.

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.

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

song of death

If you die you’re completely happy and your soul somewhere lives on. I’m not afraid of dying. Total peace after death, becoming someone else is the best hope I’ve got.
~ Kurt Cobain

The night, it is a path of stars
to which no visitor can wander
ankle-deep in the ocean

from forests to cities, to the sea
nobody can falter
though the night be deserted
though there be no shelter

i am not alone, i alone
can visit thee, in my
spirit’s secrecy

from my eternal spark
but i, am the one who holds you
i am not alone, this world
forgets its origins

all flesh is sad to see
but shone, or dark, or together
or alone, in solitary bliss

death the ticker loves the taker
who is the greatest lover
anti-mother who always remembers
i am not alone, let wind or salt
take me, dive me into final hours.

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.

LISTEN, POETRY HAS A FAINT VOICE EVEN SO

I will put chaos into sixteen lines
And remember the effort hidden in alphabets
The flood, fire and demon of all words
The order of memory put to paper, pen, screen

The arrogance of feeling misunderstood
For all eternity, I will put these confessions
To bed, without answers, evermore
I will strain to invisible problems

And witness an audience of writers
Struggling to find themselves
Past the hours, in their earthly dreams
I will pet the anxiety of paragraphs

And etch them in the frailty of my will
Stitching with careful industry my loss
That I might recall my tragedy in lines
The laughter trapped in summer crickets long ago.

Photo Courtesy: http://www.deviantart.com/art/–467093425

After Language

The Definition of Love is That Definition of all You can see it in the Trees In the Analysis of water, space, earth It’s a definition of beauty personified Evolution in nature and mind We play at her game of …

At The Hinge of All My Days

If I shouldn’t be alive –
Let others do, what I could not
Let them not save me
Any memorial crumbs

Our stories are all retold
Again and again, like being fast
Asleep and dreaming life
Our lives, they come and go

So quickly, if I should die tomorrow
Perhaps I will have been asked
To go abroad, to some further star –
And there I shall take compact Sunshine

With me, my first well Day in ages
If I shouldn’t be alive –
Let poets rise from every circumstance
Uncertain of themselves, so –

We all cheat ourselves, dropping
Threads of our youthful dreams
We conform to routine lives
If I shouldn’t be alive –

Maybe it is for the best?
To fade into tomorrow with
Rainbows held, like brief recompense.

Photo Courtesy: http://www.deviantart.com/art/Winter-Spices-412283366

Writing is my Last Gold Perception

The Vital Word acts through me
Chiseling lyrics to shiver in language
The act of symbol to perpetuate soul

My favorite invention, my muse
Of the instinct to dance
In line or song, delay and feedback-loop

An aptitude for flight – or poetry
Here one moment, gone too soon
With swiftness as if Eternity was due

Upon the ether-street, airy lullabies
I write to oblige the accomplished Guest
To visit me like awkward cursive

Ancient tongues, soul-music standing ajar
As English, neighbored Mandarin
Songs of Earth, to light my brain with

Securest folds, enlarging loneliness
The Abyss can fall into the word.

The Veins that Run from all Centuries

I can feel a tremendous ballad
Approaching me from within

A rising discontent, with locality
I want to live outside of time & space

Embrace dimensions where “I” does not exist
That is the trusting of Omnipotence
And the true unity of Immortality
Life sustains itself, I can forsake this body

So long as I have a means to experience
The Kingdom of Heaven, spiritual totality

I can feel a tremendous ballad
Overtaking me from without

All these Delinquent Palaces
Achieving poetic strain, at a distance
Assisted by false estimates of mortal consequence
I can feel a tremendous ballad

Between Zero and the Bone
Between Love and all other interchange.

Prologue

Time for me has never gotten comfortable
Once upon a time, there was me
Not I, but a coexisting us
Many selves splintered
Unable to resume existing
As a significant whole
Like a prologue of all known things
These of the self were finite
Mortal, braided with the stars
Mirrored, like wandering hands
That renounced the light
A long time ago, time was only a context
The symbols of neglected bruises
Reminders of ancient Sanskrit terms
Gray cathedrals of spirit-space
That were not witnessed, before the age
Of a thousand eyes, before consciousness
Could be downloaded and uploaded
Time was a little girl who
Announced her arrival each moment
With a big pillow in her hands for sleeping beauty
Down from the sorcerer’s tree
I swallowed the fruit once again
A blind witness to my blind hunger
Leave the wisdom here said the bird
In the seed, throw the seed into the river.

The Prophet in Me

I’ve driven myself mad

With the world like a Prophet

To nobody, I am not special

 

With my private ardor

For poems and the eyes of peacocks

All this worshiping

 

Will bring me nothing

Dots, like lost saviors

Lines, like hollow martyrs

 

I resign myself to poverty

And horrible lethargy

A vast elegy of dissonance

 

I’ve driven myself mad

With hope and anvils

I’ve unfinished and extended myself

With water and disquietude.