Fooled By Time

How fooled by time we are, sitting watching our clocks for boredom or pleasure. Why push time away for it is precious, a concept measured and mastered in the control of history, marked and denoted by the concept and yes it is another form of control, it is only marked for the purpose of control, control of this and that and even the other, if time were but a sense it would make no sense for it just denotes episodes in fragments, large or small in recall of the mind. To make focal points, for man’s only interest is that of his survival. So time is ticking and perhaps father time is only try to make sense of what can never be so. Time makes fear, is it now running out .

Religion

Religion picks you up, then throws you away. Point north my son and look up, you will discover a better light climb the etheric staircase let energies be your host, catch the wave and feel this eternal ripple, softly beneath your fragile self.

No Clarity No Purpose.

We have never been dealt such blows, they lied of course, nothing is visible they said, as it is now no clarity, no purpose, no nothing, to speak. Of society well it is suspension before change. Drifting meandering meaningless, it all seems apt for its vagueness upon a stair, a rivalry a constant tick before the tock. Anger posed before release. I blame the earths covering with bricks so dense is this of now I ask. Only expansion of this exists. Now blandness and plasticisation is here, no humans just postures of war and rage mostly against an unknown force creeping up upon humanity in a rage once more to the deaths of pointlessness. Universal control over life and death but alas no change, no peace it is not amusing to the young who are loosing hope by the day.

As Dark Rocks & nEUTRAL zONE

Protecting themselves as dark rocks beneath a sludgy slow-moving river. A family secret locked Above a large room a titanic door creaked open, black shapes in the room awaited looking to a cinema screen a film flickers into life all be seated and silent. The dark pulse of this riverscape is before them, superimposed on the screen are reels of one family’s life intermittently stopped so the deep pulse sound I added to the silhouette is heard by the audience then the reel starts again it is in mid-years now not perfect and the film stops. Once more one can feel and hear flowing waters hitting dark stones and changing textures, the river alone returns to the screen, and the audience sigh and just breath. All sound stops the river seems to stop flowing all reasons are embedded within the river rocks. The river bursts its banks, the river drains the external force, the river runs dry the rock implodes and all that is secret are gone in the end.

Neutral Zone

Aiming for the neutral zone aiming for the void, the spiritual catch space. I am not alone there are many more, we are gathered, we are one. We will be the same one day, the days of unity gentleness, and peace upon a bed of calm. With garlands upon our heads a cooling breeze weaves between all there has to be calm in the void that waits for the cleansing peace be upon our tortured selves salvation is in the portal of white shafted light.

IT IS SUMMER LETS HAVE SOME POEMS, MY FRIENDS…

I Do Not Want The Demons.

I don’t want the demons so let’s keep running towards the light. If we can run away from a discarnate world, we will hear footsteps behind us in the dead of night. I must get up, is this real am I real. Do my feet touch the ground. The souls of all countries are dying time is slowly being called on the entire world. There is panic at the station I’ve bought a ticket but there is nowhere to go the only hope is a small light within the vortex that is now my destination.

Totally Abandoned

Thrown into the universe slowly around and around, totally abandoned by a greater mind I slowed gradually in the distance I confirm craft it appeared as big as a small world I was caught and sucked into a gap, the mother of all gaps a large vortex in appearance once in I disappeared in what appeared to be a flowing river in a different lifestream, there were others being prepared for other lives on what might become another designated planet of arrangement decided presumably by an adept of which all seemed to be in attendance all around me. Circling white lights amidst violet auras automatic and beautifully separated in suspended animation I seemed to be travelling slowly to a new life purpose where the scent of profusion entered my being anew.

THE CROSS

Is it a cross or a new junction we seek, the cross is bringing pain in the name of it. There is now death and hatred what are we to do, we cannot sanction ourselves to kill in the name of the Lord, there must be a corner to turn maybe we should ditch the evil in the opium that is religion. If you can stand outside the all of it maybe we are just mortally free. Morality is but a word with silence you can start again. Maybe scientists are now gods and the cross rather confusing so yesterday’s news remains in the dark landscape of yesterday’s derelict ruins, with spiders crawling unknown over the many faces of the past. Personally I’m seeking a new vision from the cities in the clouds and white mountains that proliferate around its looks so pure compared to our bloody delusions as above so below…yeah whatever.

The Warrior of Poetry: The Poetry archive