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Post by Deleted on Apr 22, 2015 16:25:40 GMT -5
Show me the man.
Glimpse me his boy.
Let my mother rise to meet his heart
These arms solid..wear the world.
I is a figment of our imagination.
A source of comfort
To a long forgotten
I.
This fabric in your ears
Is the dust off your palms
These bones breath older
..than any picture of worth.
Stand,
For the sight of our shoulders is only the start..
Of a never ending traverse of distant stars
Brought closer, for our mind to resemble.
Respect for a tainted heart
Is how we know each other.
A pure heart
Is known, by no other.
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Post by laughter on Apr 23, 2015 14:08:51 GMT -5
in the silence stop and hear
the end of what you thought you feared
it's just a hum and after all
no need to break the endless fall
be still and then the breath reveals
what time and distance just can't steal
complete you are just as you stand
humanity is quite the brand
all this and more just left around
and bonus, can you hear that sound?
the one that ever called you home
to where you are no need to roam
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Post by glimmer on May 7, 2015 2:09:10 GMT -5
(interpreted when reading the sufi thread)
It is all here
Wheels within wheels, remember
Navigate pathways within
Make a tear in any part of the cloth
This is instant access
If the blade is sharp enough
Wake up wake up
They are still sleeping
Even now
What is unknown
Is already known
In another sense of this
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Post by glimmer on May 8, 2015 4:57:27 GMT -5
during meditation:
a dew drop
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Post by laughter on May 8, 2015 20:10:07 GMT -5
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Post by laughter on May 13, 2015 4:03:53 GMT -5
feel the breeze against your cheek in the night
cool inside and calm
look up and out at the exapanse and exhale
that breath, where did it come from, where did it go?
moving again, how could you stay still for long?
the senses can blur
contrasting light and dark, rough and smooth, hot and cold, wet and dry
one thing against the other with no center, no absolute reference
there are no names to any of it, none that aren't deception, no nouns, only verbs
of all the questions .. "what is this? where is that? why any of it?..." there is one that can be felt
what is the source of the questions?
in stillness, if there is quiet, the detective waits, but not in shadow, not in hiding
in sublime silence that source cannot but reveal itself, as it has nowhere to hide
looking up the Moon shines back down in it's reflection of the life of day, grazed by a passing cloud
the next breath comes, the next breath goes
from where, to where?
how far are you from your first? from your last?
a call you might hear that might be distant or might be near
it might be real or chimera
that voice
of the other
does that call startle you? did it interrupt something?
standing on the edge of forever, the breeze grazes your cheek and you take it into your lungs in embrace
without thought, free of guile
and with no plan
walking free back in the light
leave behind the sound of fight
know that all you hear and see
and what it is that others be
has no end or any start
is not the product of some art
has no limit, size or speed
escapes the reach and grasp of greed
there is a lightness you can feel
letting go of thoughts of real
forgetting notions of a dream
there is no need to stomp and scream
simply suspend and let life flow
there's nothing there left to unknow
what always comes will always go
what's always here will never show
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Post by silver on May 15, 2015 19:28:29 GMT -5
Seashells Humming
Holding the mystic conch shell into my small hands
I am let in on its cryptic ancient secrets
Millions of events and millions of songs
All recorded musically in its tiny curved spine
But out here-
I see no brilliance no magical creativity
Glimpses of the scene outside my window creaky
Seagulls screeching on the blurring faint horizon
Like a broken egg yolk
The sun melts gently into the submissive arms of the sea
The milky white seashore looks empty and forlorn
Grainy white sand mirroring the blank paper in front of me
Now the tide is coming and the footprints are all wiped out
The cry of the seagulls leaves hearts resting heavily
The sea breeze is rushing the desolated are watching
One rhythmic kiss on the cheek
One caressing whisper
My ears stop ringing and locked spirits are set free
Seashells humming on the deep dark ocean floor
Piercing sounds from time immemorial
Wiping the sweat from my pensive creased forehead
Their shrill sweet lullaby puts my mind to sleep
---From a deactivated member over at SF
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Post by silver on May 15, 2015 20:37:05 GMT -5
Sleeping With The Lights On
I roam around in the streets of London
See the cars and the crowds pass me by
I see the traffic lights change from red to green
Babies in prams sleeping to their mother's lullaby
Go past the trams and the buses throwing yellow beams
Walk past the old man sitting in the corner of the pavement
Smoking weed, with his dog huddled up closely next to him in a blanket
The people stepping over him,throwing change which he catches in a fist,
The kids laughing and chasing each other around through the mist
It seems the only one to care about the cold are me and my freezing feet.
Go to this grocery shop and the man offers me a drink
For 50 p all I get from him ultimately is a wink
Feel hot in my coat while the stole around my neck dances
Walk around this park feeling really bleak
The bare-naked trees making monstrous shapes with their dry branches
Looking to bend down and scoop up the children playing underneath
The cruel wind hits my face and drifts away into the darkness
The pigeons sitting on worn down statues, hoot and then flee
Paying little attention to the words of honour cemented underneath
I take refuge in the dark alleys and passages.
My home's a long way from here now
The busy market place with people throbbing like fleas
The lights blinking and the cabs moving
I thought home was only a few minutes away
I must be lost, lost looking from a distance
Into the dark, winding, disappearing roads
Somehow I manage, manage to breakaway
From the blinding, addicting, swirling dance of lights
And break into my little apartment
The very thought of the disorganisation
And the light again blinds me
I make my way through the lines of sheets, paper and cups
Till my bedroom finally finds me
Too tired to settle down
Too tired to look at my face in the mirror
I throw my clothes on the floor
On top of yesterday's dressing gown
And drop on the bed like a stone
Ready to crash to rock bottom
With only the dust and the sand around it
Lifting themselves up and leaving it alone
Another one by the same writer from SF
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Post by glimmer on May 17, 2015 1:59:41 GMT -5
if the dust
ever settles
against the light
of Self
who should know
any moment
anyway
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Post by silver on May 21, 2015 8:53:43 GMT -5
Thursday morn haiku
Where did I come from?
You came from mommy's tummy.
That's not what I mean.
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Post by laughter on Jun 29, 2015 14:23:43 GMT -5
What's illuminating the Sun? Without the water there is no reflection. an opening that you might hear in silence that is sound so clear not here nor there nor anywhere a fabric that you just can't tare an opening that you might feel that no thief there can ever steal falling endless without ground never lost so never found an opening that you can see just relax and simply be don't look too hard because the host is always here closer than close |
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Post by laughter on Jun 29, 2015 19:06:07 GMT -5
an opening that you might hear in silence that is sound so clear not here nor there nor anywhere a fabric that you just can't tare an opening that you might feel that no thief there can ever steal falling endless without ground never lost so never found an opening that you can see just relax and simply be don't look too hard because the host is always here closer than close .. and closer still What was that I saw? No I didn't see Oh d@mn I've grabbed it To give to a friend A cousin, a combatant I saw No I didn't see. I'm seeing now, That which saw. That was That was.. That wasn't a mind. |
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Post by glimmer on Jul 6, 2015 4:50:01 GMT -5
ego walls
thank God
for poetry
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Post by laughter on Jul 12, 2015 1:15:30 GMT -5
However, I have noticed without a doubt that the world that presents to me has changed, including relationships with both people I know and complete strangers. It is too weird to talk about.  a lightness dancing you will find in open, subtle supple mind with no distance between you and that noisy confused crew in a smile or a touch the shell that seemed so hard and tough just ain't there and never was not just soft and peachy fuzz |
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Post by laughter on Jul 21, 2015 5:46:31 GMT -5
The Suns companions circle her soundlessly
What can you add to the silence to complete it?
Perhaps if the sages of old were to learn of the void?
The surprise, the joy, the astonishment that would be anything but, maybe that
The emptiness between the stars is so complete that it dances
What could you add to the expanse to perfect it?
Perhaps the Earth?
A riot of now, a marvelous writhing tangle of trillions in movement, in life, maybe that
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