Prose
rebirthing
a cosmic moment in time, a spark ignited inside. life became a wild ride. like a blossoming of a pearly seed that we came to realise was our destiny lead. a wave of immeasurable magic hit the heart holy fantastic. so intense it is hard to get the head around what’s crackalackin happening. felt like waking from a sleep state into a glowing fate. i remember telling my cluster it was as if there where two of me. i know now i was glimpsing that untouched timeless space of infinity dreaming, remembering our divinity beaming. our light. our spirit. our eternal self. the ego stretching with the in & out movements of an awakened soul, but soon it is clear that it cannot reach outside itself. it is attached to concepts ideas labels forms norms storms. it keeps trying to wrap it all around some thing, but what’s boundless cannot be contained. illusions started peeling away like snow flakes, skin snakes, deep aches. digging out the stillness of lakes. we begin to see we are what we see. that the perception of inside & outside as separate is a limitation of our senses & 5% functioning brain. we realise we are eternal dreamtime. beyond mind. why then for christ sake are we collectively dreaming such atrocities? !!! we begin to ask. & that’s an invitation station for that oh so avoided journey inside to the depth of our being where we are asked to face our shadows, our unconscious arrows. the void. we meet the weights of the world. the pains the veins the strains the chains. we pray for rains. blown away by the stories we are carrying, distortions we do not even know are there. afraid to stare. if we all could stop for a moment. step outside the madness of samsara & sit in silence with our breath. take a listen to our thoughts instead. notice how they are going mad. & take a stand. we would witness miracles. reclaim our power as creation oracles. we would remember who we are. sacred dreamers of peace harmony & the great mystery. rainbow warriors breaking down matrix barriers. guardian keepers of our mother’s glory. soul families walking each other home. hearts of diamond stone. star dust bone. celestial tone. crowned.
By Raquel Teixeira 2 years ago in Poets
Do I Dare?
Do I Dare? I read an article on here Monday morning, that took me back a little bit. I mean, much of the statements I don’t agree with, but many of the points made were quite valid and caused me some self-reflection, which is a good thing. Self-reflection is my happy place – it’s asking myself the uncomfortable questions, and it’s where I learn and grow. So, the author/article may have irritated me, but I must appreciate the fact that it caused me to ask questions of myself, exactly because I found myself irritated.
By KJ Aartila2 years ago in Poets
Stained
What the hell happened to you, faithful, floundering boy? You took every woman you could seize as an admission to your own court of indecency. Why? How? You took me to your mother, you said I was yours, you took me to your father, you said I was yours... was yours until I saw you. You took my special place, you discarded all of me; I prevailed. Your eyes were always positioned, ready for your next prey; I was keen and could smell your carrion well before its take. What happened to you good Catholic boy, why did you long for drunken nights with cloudless aims? How did you think life would be when I walked away, albeit unwillingly? You seek the reassurance that you have meaning in another's arms, yet failed to know the seed you sowed, still you have never grown? I heard you were alone, by the city docks, looking back to the sunset where once we swam as one. Please, find the message of a sailor's dream, pick up the bottle I have dreamed. An ancient scroll I present; your child is broken, your brother dead; and I was once your love. The world you shared was in greed; barren you live with all we heed. Sorrow beckons us all to mourn, yet old lover you were never born. Take and taking more and more, the bottle to baste your heart to mourn. You stole my trust, my belief in good, you gave me nothing, nothing, nothing hood. I am old, I should be better, but what you did scarred me forever. I want to face you and say you were wrong, yet my being now is much too strong. I do not wish you to perish or rot; I am in heaven and you are not.
By ROCK aka Andrea Polla (Simmons)2 years ago in Poets
