suninmyeyes

mystical poetry thread

Recommended Posts

new clear fishin
waters a head dressed
to the nines, right up their spines
to tip the bell down the well 
left out to dry in the sun
tumbled weeds rolled in
perfect for bonfires, like tires
irons, striking while hot
and shaped in the forge
fed by divine winds

  • Like 1

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

Drops of water hit my head

What is an umbrella?

---

An an old one xD:

 

Before enlightenment, carry water, chop wood.

After enlightenment, carry water, chop wood.

Edited by Emera

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

graphic novel of the dead


the revolution will not be sanitized
it will be commercialized
transmogrified by a ZAP! 
from the ray gun administration
in calculated incunabula extirpation
crackpot germination from ambulatory
masturbation, circulation of extant
genetic materials and hazmat procedure
crunchy captains chomping down Big Corn
holes available for exploration and
intercourse with mermaids on the dinner table
breakfast nooks with common crooks
untenable criminals forsook their chains
drenched the walls with mass spermicide
run out from underside of Hades drizzle
chasing the trains from excised wounds
ripped stripped and dew-drop dripped
upside-down with grass ingrown 
setting fires and starlit mires ablaze
unfazed in the haze of wrong ways
right down the line and stopped
on a dime, dropped spinning time
spaceman spliffs trailing 

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

 

walking on a wet drizzly morning
the heavy fog of social conditioning
covers the desert of logic and reason
there, in the confused distance of fear
lonely shadows jumping to conclusions.

 

  • Like 1

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

Please take me out of this pain

I've had enough of that strain

Yet whatever I do

Seems to be but in vain

 

But at last now I see

That I don't want to be free

That I am loving that pain

'cause without pain there's no " me"

Edited by Gunther
  • Like 1

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

How long since I've known Silence?

I listen

The light bulb buzzes, my son plays loudly,

Outside a car passes,  my house breathes.

Even in meditation, my subtlest breath is audible,

my heart thumpity thumps, my pulse shakes me.

Yet I've known Slence

and one day wll return to t. 

Edited by thelerner
  • Like 4

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

Seeking pleasure or pain
Are in fact just the same
You can never be happy
With whatever you gain.

 

If you can simply be
All the glory to thee
There is nothing you need
You already complete.

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

the human form
glowing with signs
*RED ALERT!*
rudely cuts the moment
twenty four by sixty
by sixty

the source of love

is sought
and thus ignored

around the bend 
and into the chest
again

in search of that treasure
and cold fusion power

in the sticky heat

  • Like 1

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

PROGRESS

so please then humbly let me say
about the progress on the way
when insult not, nor flattering
cause never any doubt within
but wishing you a lovely day.

peace

  • Like 1

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

hmnn, the further path-

 

Before enlightenment, carry water, chop wood- bitch about it

During enlightenment, carry water, chop wood

After enlightenment, sign book deal, give lectures

After after enlightenment, indoor plumbing, personal servants.

  • Like 1

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

REFERENCE POINT

back from the world the new and brave
here by the fireside i'm safe
watching the flames move in the heat
with book and cuppa in my seat
left nothing there for me to crave.

 

tending the fire over time
teach you a lesson quite divine
about that sacred little flame
that burns for one and all the same
the spark of life in space and time

 

beyond a thousand memories
the mind is very much at peace
but then a sudden thunderbolt
the soul ejects into the cold
void of a thousand mysteries.

 

the mind was now a bit confused
it took a while to getting used
the heart was burning like a fire
to ashes idols of desire
high voltage charge had been infused.

 

but still alive to tell the tale
soon put his ship back under sail
no more asked he the question why
he was not ready yet to die
kept moving on along his trail.

 

from then kept praying he in vain
for lightning him to strike again
and this time round by wisdom's grace
enjoy the weightless float in space
such was his heart desire's pain.

peace

Edited by Gunther
  • Like 1

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites
On ‎11‎/‎15‎/‎2017 at 5:34 PM, thelerner said:

hmnn, the further path-

 

Before enlightenment, carry water, chop wood- bitch about it

During enlightenment, carry water, chop wood

After enlightenment, sign book deal, give lectures

After after enlightenment, indoor plumbing, personal servants.

 

Or not signing book deal,

Not  lecturing ,

Not employing indoor plumbing / personal servants

But rather after enlightenment ,

Carry water, chop wood

For others with joy

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites
3 hours ago, cold said:

 

Or not signing book deal,

Not  lecturing ,

Not employing indoor plumbing / personal servants

But rather after enlightenment ,

Carry water, chop wood

For others with joy

You know,

everybody gotta

chop there own wood,

and carry up there water.

Some with joy,

Some in sorrow.

 

Don't make no sense to do it for other folk,

yer jist not doin them any good,

cause you can't eat, drink or think for another.

Edited by thelerner
  • Like 1

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites
42 minutes ago, thelerner said:

You know,

everybody gotta

chop there own wood,

and carry up there water.

Some with joy,

Some in sorrow.

 

Don't make no sense to do it for other folk,

yer jist not doin them any good,

cause you can't eat, drink or think for another.

 

Be aware,

there be,

widows an orphans,

old and infirm,

some who are ill,

all appreciating

a helping hand

in time of need.

  • Like 3

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

True that.  Helping others, helps ourselves.

 

Yet, chop wood, carry water, is more a mindset then an action.

And mindsets are trickier then simply helping..

 

  • Like 2

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

Oh cast thy pearls amongst the swine

For you reap from what you sew

Your work maybe divine

One know's not who is due

be they profound or profane

your service is the same

  • Like 1

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

eye wonder what will be in between unseen 
for seemingly epochryphal magnitudes
scattered in pulsing quasar diffusion network

ensorcelled vicissitudes unraveling parchmentary 
concessions byway of legal considerations 
extort counseled couch surfing bloated head shot
blood sausage explosion and fine red mists
contemplate granular portal exchange current see
forthwith and forsooth under harvest moon triplicate 
ziggurat rod capital exclamation towering

signatory mushroom cloud storage device farm
when and wherefore art how do you do hashed out tag
your it and are bit by byte twice and once shyster
cant get fooled again by meeting the new boss
provision for bespectacled flourish division equation

night of sun glass circle spectrum crystal etchings
day of earth lines crossed lightning starry sky path

...o passing arrival of mnemesisyne...

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

5 months later:
How many ml in a dram of uisce???
And exactly how long is a spliff??
Where pleasure turns into pain
I am still there.
Pure Subjectivity
Beyond space/time.

Peace

Spoiler

 

 

IMG_20171128_182051.jpg

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites
Let me not to the marriage of true minds 
Admit impediments. Love is not love 
Which alters when it alteration finds, 
Or bends with the remover to remove. 
O no! it is an ever-fixed mark 
That looks on tempests and is never shaken; 
It is the star to every wand'ring bark, 
Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken. 
Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks 
Within his bending sickle's compass come; 
Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks, 
But bears it out even to the edge of doom. 
If this be error and upon me prov'd, 
I never writ, nor no man ever lov'd.
 
WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

The Panther

 

His vision, from the constantly passing bars,
has grown so weary that it cannot hold
anything else. It seems to him there are
a thousand bars; and behind the bars, no world.

As he paces in cramped circles, over and over,
the movement of his powerful soft strides
is like a ritual dance around a center
in which a mighty will stands paralyzed.

Only at times, the curtain of the pupils
lifts, quietly--. An image enters in,
rushes down through the tensed, arrested muscles,
plunges into the heart and is gone.

- Rainer Maria Rilke

English translation by Stephen Mitchell

  • Like 3

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

...To The Pearl...

 

circles
unchecked
squares 
suspect

 

for you see 
my friend
this is the end
of everything
that stands
up in

 

around the bend
and back again
all
up in 
your face
and then
steps are traced
back to that place

 

back again
for you
my friend
to all
upend
that space within
for you see 
somehow
wherein allowed
the round
goes round
down to ascend

 

...The Food Of Love...

 

dragonpheonix.png

  • Like 1

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

Moo. I am a cow, and I have come here to speak the words of your lover. Miaow. 

How have you touched me, with your silent voice.

Breathed new life into me, without making a noice.

Filled me with joy, showed me new ways to use life's toys.

But you had a greater plan, all along.

To rule over my heart, once again.

You knew what is great, what I thought was wrong.

Showed me new ways to be who I am, even when I was gone. 

And you silenced my heart when you whispered into my ear, what I had always wanted you to hear.

But when the words were said, and done.

It is your breath, that I had inhaled and realized, at that moment,  that we had always already been One.

And the new soul you had lost, is now grown and woven into a new home.

In my temple and vessel, I shall serve you for who I am.

So that you can be with your loved one again.

And never doubt the power of what you want.

For you have summoned me from a distance that can only be summoned by your touch of here and now.

The rest is not about what we are going to do together, now that I am here for you, in a way that you can agree with, but how.

Whatever you wish, the vessel is ready, through fire and ice, you can break me, but know, I will always be with you.

Happy with you as my everlasting prize, but behold thou cast me down, with your frown, a kiss and bow, and you shall be back on your crown.

For I am but what you wish. As you have created me to be.

And with that, I cannot be anything less than in an everlasting happy relevance to all that you hold as dear family.

So, will you marry me? 

Edited by Everything
  • Like 1

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

A Contribution to Statistics
by Wislawa Szymborska

 

 

Out of a hundred people

 

those who always know better
— fifty-two

 

doubting every step
— nearly all the rest,

 

glad to lend a hand
if it doesn’t take too long
— as high as forty-nine,

 

always good
because they can’t be otherwise
— four, well maybe five,

 

able to admire without envy
— eighteen,

 

suffering illusions
induced by fleeting youth
— sixty, give or take a few,

 

not to be taken lightly
— forty and four,

 

living in constant fear
of someone or something
— seventy-seven,

 

capable of happiness
— twenty-something tops,

 

harmless singly, savage in crowds
— half at least,

 

cruel
when forced by circumstances
— better not to know
even ballpark figures,

 

wise after the fact
— just a couple more
than wise before it,

 

taking only things from life
— thirty
(I wish I were wrong),

 

hunched in pain,
no flashlight in the dark
— eighty-three
sooner or later,

 

righteous
— thirty-five, which is a lot,

 

righteous
and understanding
— three,

 

worthy of compassion
— ninety-nine,

 

mortal
— a hundred out of a hundred.
Thus far this figure still remains unchanged.

  • Like 3

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites
On 8/27/2017 at 10:01 AM, 9th said:

The Law of Force

 

full spectrum sheen on the slick oil
anointing the heads of runaway overflow
gushing tiger blood in the halls of the Vatican
caressed by the lust for screaming witches 
smashed together and burned alive 
thrashed and trashed or recycled
in the name of our Sweet Lord
stashed the cash under statue of Baphomet
and stuffed like Christmas goose 
in mouth of John the Baptist’s severed head 
with pronounced Cymatic registration 
for Logos tuning forked tongues and tails
haunted by echos of the Superuser marching down
the command line interfaces of death
with hot sticky breath chasing fogged sunglasses
worn at night with red shoes for dancing
black and blue Skyline racing invisible sunlight 
wrapped tight so the bedbugs wont bite the white wall tires
like termites in the root access directory structure
punctured by the fangs of our Sweet Lord
who maketh all the young girls lie down
and wait for sweet rape in the tall grass
squeezed like grapes and a piece of ass
fermenting still waters into cyclone tsunami 
wine bottle tidal wave killing punani
with the jammy that listens to the way we slay
bad brains damaged by raiding black flags
nailed to the crossbones under crystal skulls
trailed to lost homes of child sacrifice 
in the name of our Sweet Lord

 

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

The Morning of Manifestation sighed,
the breeze of Grace breathed gently,
ripples stirred
upon the sea of Generosity.
The clouds of Abundance poured down the rain
upon the soil of preparedness;
so much rain that the earth shone with Light.
The lover, then, nourished with the water of life, awoke from the slumber
of non-existence, put on the cloak of being and tied around his brow the
turban of contemplation; he clinched the belt of desire about his waist
and set forth with the foot of sincerity upon the path of the Search.

The lover desires to see the Beloved with Certainty's Eye, and wanders a bewildered lifetime in this aspiration. Then suddenly with his heart's ear he hears a voice;
"The magic spring
that gives eternal Life,
is in your own heart
but you have blocked the flow."

Then the Eye of Certainty opens, and staring inwardly at himself, the lover finds himself lost, vanished. But ... he finds the Beloved; and when he looks still deeper, realises the Beloved is himself. He exclaims,

"Beloved, I sought you
here and there,
asked for news of you
from all I met;
then saw you through myself
and found we were identical.
Now I blush to think I ever
searched for signs of you."

Everyone with eyes sees just such a vision ... but remains ignorant of what he perceives. Every ant which leaves its nest and goes to the desert will see the sun, but not know what it sees. What irony! Everyone perceives Divine Beauty with Certainty's Eye, for in reality nothing exists but Transcendent Unity;

They look, they see, but do not comprehend.
They take no pleasure in the View,
For to enjoy it one must know
through the Truth of Certainty
What he is seeing,
through Whom, and why.

And so, the lover seeks the Vision in order that he might pass away from existence; he knocks on the door of non-existence, for there he was once at peace. There he was both seer and seen, Both viewer and viewed ... Because nothing in himself. When awakening from that peace and coming to be, he became the veil of his own sight and was deprived of Vision.

Know yourself: a cloud
drifting before your sun.
Cut yourself off from your senses
and behold your sun of intimacy.

If this screen ... which is you ... is struck from before your eyes, the Beloved will find the Beloved, and you will be entirely lost. Then you will say:

"By day I praised You
but never knew it;
by night slept with You
without realising;
fancying myself
to be myself;
but no, I was You
and never knew it."

With the Eye of the Heart the lover now sees ---
The Beloved's Loveliness owns
a hundred thousand faces;
gaze upon a different fair one
in every atom;
for She needs must show
to every separate thing
a different aspect
of Her beauty.
Gazing from every angle
on that precious countenance
in Thy face we see our own ---
hence the infinitude of descriptions.

Thus it is that every lover gives a different sign of the Beloved and every Gnostic a different explanation; every realised one seems to point to something different, yet each of them declares,

"Expressions are many
but Thy loveliness is one;
Each of us refers
to that single Beauty."

 

~Fakhruddin 'Iraqi

  • Like 1

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites