Category: This notion

Fall in Eden

I ask for forgiveness
because my Lord is a forgiving Lord.
I ask for mercy
because my Lord is a merciful Lord.
So I ask…
So I ask my Lord
for mercy,
for forgiveness;
so my Lord can be merciful and forgiving.

I ask my Lord:
Do I change You?
Or do I see You with new eyes?
Am I the same?
Am I who You created?
Or am I the one I aim to create…
I am asking, Lord,
and it is changing me.

Lord,
where is my speaker standing?
He stands right over me;
crossing deserts,
returning home.

He walks tall and casts
one shadow wording evil laughter.

“Darkness drips,
mantra hisses,
mercy births existence,
and the serpent shifts.
Suffering is one of many
masks You are yet to be.
With freedom on the loose,
love’s scent imbues rebellion
against acceptance and grace.”

Lord,
reason my breath.
I no longer want to chase my steps.
I want to awaken to eternity.
Lord,
grant forgiveness to humanity,
heal them from themselves.
Out of Eden, civilization is not a city;
it is shame.
Language and memory guilts a part of me,
births inside of me
another skin
to sow it in
and peel once again.

Choice is there,
right in the moment.
Our free will so shortly aged,
flickers between its own duality:
dreaming mirrors,
scripting illusions.

Why did we leave Eden?
Where is my innocence?
Casually throwing away certainty
and sense for a chance.

Lord,
unnamed feeling,
imbuing beauty
through myself.
I see the play,
teaching my breath to speak Your language:
explanation, justification, accusation,
and memory to unguilt.
And so
I self-reflect.

Dear giraffe,
you cast long shadows…
Life well-spent trying to return back home…
I am asking, Lord:
Why did I ever leave?

Koan

Time’s long gone, now, scattered through future-past
draining into void as if stretched shadows cast,
out of the blue, checkpoints which never may last
until the I witnesses in-sync three blinks fast.

Heaven on shoulders through commitment and choice,
bolder-heavy, bathing flesh in healing voice-
Through the Holy Spirit, change through strain to poise
one last breath, one last word – a harmonic noise.

Sown into earth, one sky above and below
seeds the triad holy into every row,
rooting birth into death and alike anew;
Thy echo is the silence realities chew.

Liminal stasis

Forever? In this maelstrom?
To give in, yet to never give up…
Don’t trip up!
Stay numinous to God’s fandom.

Susurrus of the elusive nature;
eidos calling for eleven’s release-
Through sirocco one must venture
in order to find peace.

Fliquoring

There’s no home to go to-
I’ve burnt it down for you…
My illusions stand truthful,
telling me that I was a fool.

By the remnant of our window
which served me as gate to limbo;
one shard to send me down below,
deeper than the roots which will no longer…
grow!

Dreaming that one day I’ll follow
underneath unearthed shadows
made from the ashes of a dying world…

One dimming light;
unified!
From every star to shine-
one corner in my mind…
glows.

Why?!

„Do not answer a fool according to his folly, or you yourself will be just like him.” ~ Proverbs 26:4-5 NIV

Why won’t you smile?
You’re the devil;
a very precious…
suicide.

Why won’t you cry?
I’m the devil;
a very threatening…
way of life.

Why,
why won’t you?!
Why won’t you do
what I tell you to?!

Why,
why won’t you?!
Why won’t you follow through?
My proposal suits you!

Why?
‘Cause there’s nothing to lose-
Every time I die,
I become your hangman’s noose.

‘Cause there’s nothing to win-
Every time I die,
your identity wears thin.

Why…

A noose is only strong
if the victim stands still.

Whole… and free

Open my eyes and see
Open my eyes and see
Holes between temples…
a world of what could be.

Open my heart and feel
Open my heart and feel
Hole underneath ribs…
a wound yet to heal.

Open my skull and think
Open my skull and think
Hole above holes…
a void where thoughts sink.

Open my soul and be
Open my soul and be
Whole…
and free.

Proverb Thirty-One





Record the knot - become one with Eleven
outside or within Samsara - make a choice!
Slumber awakens, knowledge acts as leaven
for awareness to break cycles and rejoice.





Disconnected human confounding truth's sight
time quickens and the anomaly replays-
the cycle breaks once more - through haze, solve the maze,
Sisyphus within, journey onward; rewrite!





Comprehension eludes when knot is perceived
“Play,” calls one voice; another whispers, “Have faith,”
Ouroboros mind of deceit - loop relieved
by belief, surrendered in euphoric bathe.





Body tenses, senses nursing at mother's breast
Blissful thrill melts the mind, dries lips, moves the soul
exhilarating tremor - puts child at rest
Darkness - instilled calm, the primal call is whole.





From beneath the trunk's embrace - made manifest
Sharp and cutting - knot's been severed right in two
The unseen was brought to surface and confessed
Breaking veils of silence as the key went through.

Child of a prayer

Child of a prayer exposed in error
Father and mother – our paternal bearer
Gift for an eye, for the other – terror
Through the third, we become its wearer.

Whimpering ahead of birth
With limbs of our own, embracing dearth
In absolution, regardless of worth
Child, don’t succumb, as through you we unearth!

Uncomfortable truth without reason nor layer
Disassembled your insides and knit its conveyer
Through third, tearing out the soothsayer
We become your favorite betrayer.

Autonomous existence divided in two
Child – father and mother anew
In emptiness, echoes the only prayer we knew
Your existence and truth are just another taboo.

Phoenix

When the boogeyman comes, he whispers: “Drink this for it is my body”

This state is my favorite enemy-
Where was the law
when it was raping me?
All alone, in an empty room
with the rouge on my cheeks and
my lips on its dick;
all confused?

This state is of substance abuse.
The milkman told me
“Drink or you’ll get bruised”
and I listened
as a good kid I am.
So, I pray for no more pain-
Yet, today, I live in shame!

In duality
I’m a monkey
holding its liturgy
for a God to stop the mud
from burying me!
I’m a soul remembering
how the Devil’s boiling me-
in virgin blood,
alive in this pot
as I blow its whistle-
“So good!” It feels hot…

Now’s too late to stop the missile
as society
penetrates in me
the man soon to be;
a tragedy.

Burn burn
burn burn
burn burn
in purgatory.

Born born
born born
born born
in purgatory.

This is not a social manifesto!
This is war;
endless fight between a child and an illusion.
Presto!
More, daddy, more-
Need no conclusion…
Feed me,
choke me
with your eight limbs, two heads-
Through sin, carve in me that one dream.

Shock me, daddy;
so deep
’till you split
my mind and body
Aaaah!
Now, choke us with longing
to grow back into one…
No need for prolonging
the burst of the sun.

We sit in our knees, Father.
Forgive us?
Please, torturer,
set us free?!
God, where do we sit?
Is there a chair, somewhere?
Where do we fit?
This suit we wear
tires us, Father
Please, set us free.

Too late to stop the missile
as we blow the whistle
of society
which penetrates
the men to be;
a tragedy.

Junct

Desperation-
will to live;
Conservation
of the notion;
Light, no light…
Consciousness-
perceived holiness.

Causalistic mind
of the dualistic kind-
my own mortality.

Birth,
Death,
Hopelessness,

Acceptance.

Consciousness-
momentary eternal-,
from beyond the veil
you reflect through me.
To be or not to be?
Doubt-
transient return.

Dualistic mind
of the causalistic kind-
my own mortality.

Birth,
Death,
Forgiveness,

Liberate!

Set sail
to beyond the veil.
The eternal return
home
where I was born.

Manhood

Nowadays, leftists are more depressed than right wingers, studies show.

I am a 30 years old European and I find myself useless, incompetent, with a constant feeling of guilt. Everyday is a battle for me, trying to keep myself whole: to be productive at work, to keep my bare social skills active, to grind the game and, most important of all, to develop my manhood which I lack so so much.
My manhood is firghtingly low and it’s a struggle to keep up with the game. I barely perform my mondaine chores and responsibilities and I am unable to win a competition with others as I am unfit, uneducated, I lack the mindset to duel. As such, I dodge most activities (except for my work). Despite this, I strive and will keep on striving to push through and to bring my manhood on an acceptable level.

The way I’ve been educated, the mentality I’ve been fed is neither good nor bad, but incompatible with the current times, with the grind mentality that’s been normalized, with the American ideology which is the future and it is the only ideology that can bring peace among us. My argument is the human nature. As Aristotel stated in his writings, the human being is a social animal (zoon politikon). That “zoon” is one of the 3 fundamentals of the human being: the animal side, the social aspect and the spiritual need. Liberalism overlooks the animalistic side of the individual. It gradually becomes an impediment into the individual’s life. It is fundamentally mandatory to develop the manhood and the womenhood from an early age for it is part of the biological construct, it is part of the human being, our species; humanity. As such, in order to act as a whole, to bypass our differences, we have to accept our nature, our animalistic side. Only then, we will act together, united as a species. Capitalism is our food chain and only the fittest should survive. It is not a “me” competition. It is not a battle between identities, personalities, egos. It is a struggle like any other species’: to survive and to evolve. The American ideology understood this and provided absolute freedom long ago within their states and, now, we can see the limitations of liberalism. However, we should not go berserk and turn ourselves into dystopia. We should avoid a third war at all costs and have the powers of the world understand that the American ideology has nothing to do with America, but with humanity. Parallel to this, we must remember that, regardless of being a hero or a foe, kindness remains the common ground between any party. In our darkest hours, we cry for kindness. Hence, instead of fixing something, we better prevent it. Be kind and responsible in your actions.
As for us, the poor participants whom are too far behind, I make a call to the grand players to use kindness in their actions and allow for an intermediary tier where some can play until their doom or grind out of it.

I’m afraid of dying an unfulfilled man, but I comfort myself at the thought that I am a sum of thoughts popping in and out of existence and some stay here for longer.

Maturity consists of the ability to change the game

Maturing is inviting other players to the dialogue. Maturing is being sincere with existence. Maturing is taking ownership of thoughts and actions. Maturing is facing hardships and repercussions. Maturing consists of becoming familiar with pain. Maturing consists of knowing sufferance. Maturing consists of becoming aware of the eternal struggle, the endless pursuit to attain happiness. Maturing consists of becoming aware of cycles such are good and evil, good and bad, right and wrong etc. Maturing consists of learning that, in order to attain happiness, one must endure sadness. Maturing consists of being aware of dualism. Maturing consists of finding that one common ground between white and black, that one force which binds 2 atoms with same polarity, that bridge that connects the up and down, that common characteristic found in any juxtaposition ever thought. Maturing consists of accepting this challenge; the challenge of finding that one thing which everyone enjoys. Maturing consists of succeeding the task. Maturing consists of finding happiness in both sides. Maturing consists of understanding the tool which creates the antithesis; the tool which is each individual. Maturing consists of becoming more and more aware of the self and the outer world. Maturing consists of understanding that, in order to be happy, the only thing that can be done is to choose a side. Maturing consists of accepting the causalistic, dualistic nature and embrace a side. Maturing consists of taking sides. Maturing consists of choosing a path and believe in it, guide it, preach it. Maturing consists of understanding that the key to happiness is for the individual to remain true to itself. Maturing consists of being aware of the harm that can be caused. Maturing consists of becoming aware of actions, implications, repercussions. Maturing consists of understanding that happiness comes with a price for each individual. Maturing consists of knowing that the individual implies the other as the other implies the individual. Maturing consists of understanding that, regardless of the chosen side, there will be pain, but there will also be happiness. Maturing consists of trying to cause no harm to the other in the chase for happiness. Maturing consists of finding glue sufficiently strong to connect 2 opposing forces. Maturing consists of succeeding at that task. Maturing consists of admitting to the self and to the other that happiness will be pursued regardless and overcome any harmful thought, reserve from the use of threats. Maturing consists of developing the ability to adapt to the game. Maturing consists of the desire of man to play the game. Maturing consists of deciding for the self. Maturing consists of making and taking decisions. Maturing consists of understanding that freedom requires trust. Maturing consists of the ability to believe that happiness will be returned, that the devotion for the chosen side will be rewarded. Maturing consists of understanding that the dualistic, causalistic mind will never comprehend the connection between opposite things. Maturing consists of accepting this nature of things. Maturing consists of attaining continuous happiness by bringing a greater happiness to the other. Maturing consists of challenging the self to become a bigger source for happiness. Maturing consists of participating to the game. Maturing consists of playing ranked. Maturing consists of handing happiness to the greatest scale. Maturing consists of competing with the other to provide greater happiness. Maturing consists of pursuing happiness by granting other with happiness. Maturing consists of understanding that happiness implies happiness and wanting to make the other the happiest. Maturing consists of dialogue and kindness. Be kind.

Myrrh

I’ve found the suit to wear;
the one I’ve rejected for so long.
Now, I am prepared
to move along.

I’ve heard the song dormant within,
dimly pulsing whispers behind the ear;
a sound so kin,
so dear.

With pathos and filled with cause
I commandeer my reference point.
I am emptied of the sin for keeping it on pause-
I slow down my breath and reload.

Fragile Love

But then, my world, this perfect sphere
gets opened wide by feels I fear
and make me want to ride a while
I fall pray to one desire
of Loving you.

Oh, God! I pray
just let her be
turning down the hate I see
The rage upon my mind be leashed
Mesmerize her to be linked
with my heart.

Give her fuel and give her matches
Let her burn me down to ashes
Stitch my remains into patches
of white cloth.

Give her nails of the reddest polish
Let her stain and gash my clothing
So the dust that is not needed
be replaced by wounds of love.

Comatose

Darkness, no lights, no grounds
I’m in a constant flight
Freed from all, here are no bounds
There is no light.

Vanquished, I’ve seen the streets up close
No one and nothing’s now insight
Finally, this maze is closed
I’m in the air, free as a kite.

No doors needed to be opened
Nor to be locked
My existence is gone, no longer cornered
No need to talk.

The river

Heavenly bed carrying me away,
you keep the stones at bay;
Suffocated, crushed by your weight,
your sanding work is just a bait.

You’re not a quartz watch,
you don’t care much;
You don’t show time nor history,
you are just a stubborn destined victory.

My feet are finally at rest-
No need for flowers on my chest.
I got one rock tight to my throat;
when others fight and die, you keep me afloat.

I called for you; such misery-
They called for me; such mystery-
For them to feel a little less futile;
for me to feel a little less senile.

Illusionary illusory

Satisfied by my own disease
This pendulum I cannot please
Its belated movement keeps me at stake
This lie is a cake, this lie is well baked.

I am lingering to an illusory expectation
A biped chaos with opened eyes in hibernation
I am delaying the illusionary reality
I’ve been out and in to reverse duality.

In sound is pain, in words is silence
I’ve cried, I’ve tried by reason, by violence
With madness I’ve sewed a funeral suit
To bring the illusionary illusory on mute.

Parable

Come to my well known slumber
“Sand castle built upside down” –
Play your role in this last supper,
evoke a lie and sigh.

Pots under pressure whistle,
eroded dams overrun,
cyclic waters never settle-
Spew fire as goodbye.

Sing the taboo orison
“I am holier-than-thou!”-
The wings of Judith Marie
won’t be given to you.

Our hyphenated ego
delved in synchronicity,
by the buzz of a mosquito
all was recreated in me.

Please talk to me

Bathed in the golden rays
A gentle touch by the divine hand
Was lost long time in this endless maze
But woke up under a silver gaze.

Hazy view laid down beneath my light
Pushing down every seed of life
Glued the doors, nailed the windows
No gestures to perturb the vows.

Taught to die, a declarant of futility
Resided by guilt and weak personality
Let nails grow and cleaved the lie
Splintered the roots and darken the skies.

Sprinting horses dying of thirst
All have disappeared when one’s sun has burst
Without water, hay or sight
Ideas die and this view’s just right.

A macabre decor fitting a medieval scene
With decaying Kings and Queens and blades so thin
To reach between castle stones
Momentary disappointment of the lone.

Orison (I)

A tear trickles whispers on the scorched tree-
“Remember to forgive.”

All the gazes
infer the impassive expression;
placid face standing mendacious
gating with discretion-
“Maybe there’s nothing
Maybe there’s too much pain”

For a second,
cease to accept
what’s been seen and lived-
behind blue eyes, uncover the chaos within
and distrust the sight;

The journey ill begins
in a fall-
Down is found at the end of the rabbit hole.

Hear steps on dusted grounds-
What has been found
were-“just dusty grounds”

Whence emptiness mimicry
diluted in sadness;
a face gone blank starring into nothingness-
“Blind stare
granting wishes
receive us inside
deep inside the heart, the mind, receive this being!”

Love of fate

Subjected to a benighted time trial for private property, the human body is purely broken; millions of years of evolution rendered up into utter futility.

Forged by the Renaissance out of the desire to record the abstract world, to instill the quintessence into the physical world, out of fear of the idealistic state, the alter ego is trapped inside an incompatible vessel; hundreds of years of dynamic interactions rendered up into utter futility.

Out of sync, through loneliness, I give no clemency for I’ve lost my love of fate.

Loneliness joke

Loneliness is just the returned value of a predefined system. Prehistorical mechanism or incompatible regime?

Either way, seems like the system works fine:
Loneliness, followed by uselessness, deprivation, auto-destruction… and then, death.

Guess it’s just debugging itself.

A laughter, a mute, and a scream walk into a bar. They all point with their index.

The laughter and the scream leave.

The bartender says, “Guess the mute made his point.”

Comparative lies

Stability eat my hunger
Fall down from your grave
Into my hell and help me plunder
The idols we call brave.

Grow inside me like a flower
Open your mouth and wrap my voice
Scatter this shame from the tower
Of the merciless freedom we call choice.

Drown it in acid and set me free
Burn and tell my story in a humble stand
Betrayed by the wings of a dying bee
As its motion now I ascend.

Up and down, down and up
I’ve been deceived to sigh
Indifferently, off the pyre
Into flames, I feel so high.

I’m chased away and yet forsaken
From my place, for my own sake?
Stability, you have been taken
Tell me shame, where is my stake?

Disjunct

Sorrow

power growth

Freshness

For the senses

Color, non-color

Cavities

With no remedies

 

Multiple ones

For the holy one

My own outsider

 

Inside

Outside

Unceasing

 

Unforgiving silence.

 

Rupture

Thread of mine

Submerge

All consciousness

Violent, non-violent

Disjunction

Transient return

 

Multiple ones

For the holy one

My own outsider

 

Inside

Outside

Disconnected

 

My own deviant.

 

Dock away

from your tailor-made

The long return

to none

of the prodigal son.

Children’s voice calling mother’s name

Feel this air;
ghosting breeze of the mundane,
a caress through hair
entranced by a calmness passing pain.

Hail this day,
breathe in the dust of its gem,
lay on autumn’s bay
with rays of light knocking on the dam.

Dream the night
with a fading moon to tame
to shine on its light-
Mother’s voice calling her children’s names.

Fear the dawn,
absent eyes delve in absence…
We’re given on a loan-
Innocence to life to darkness.

Marsupium

Did you ever woke up with the feeling that you died,
that the shock was so deep
your mind revived in a new timeline
as if life went through until you fell asleep?

Wet eyes of a dying world
pouring down on a restless soul…
You bear down the good of your intentions
“Kneel before my lecture!
Beg for forgiveness, for sympathy!”

Don’t be mad, don’t be mean
It’s not like you’ve never been;
first – torturer,
now – murderer
of me,
but I’m alright-
The way it feels extinguishes my heart.

If you ever woke up,
what would your color be?
Is it death, a seventh emotion
or pure erosion for all entities?
Don’t let the voices whisper
“You’re useless”.

You were infused with lust,
you can’t stomp on your senses;
act and react –
Every scene occurs in a theater,
on a spinning tongue;
a time that’s been given
to experience the gears inside this clock.

In a constant swing,
on a sine
embrace the motion,
don’t put up a fight.
Hands on the paddle,
flow through time,
guide your intentions
on just and right
premises
for a constructive behavior,
to be in sync,
for ripples to bounce back
and ease the inevitable impact.

If you ever woke up,
what would your color be?
If you ever woke up
in the middle of the dream?
If you ever woke up
and death was a seventh emotion?
If you ever woke up
under pure erosion?
If you ever woke up
while dying,
while they were carving
all the things which were never seen?

The wet eyes of a dying world
were pouring down on a restless soul…
“They are carving in me
all the things I’ve never seen-
The present was meant to be,
but the future has never been
ahead with the sacrifice,
ahead with this lie,
ahead and synchronized,
ahead with life;
I had a life
I had a lie
I had a life”
I had a lie.

This notion (I)

My hunger is roaring
To feed on the rays of the sun
My super creatures are scorching
The borders of this land.

Turned into
Melted flesh-
Disembodied
Of regret-
This notion
Blistered devotion
And-
Let it live.

Dissected
Inside out-
In emptiness
One stands proud-
This notion
Capitalized motion
And-
Oneness is weld.

Now,
the end-
is imminent.

In a blink of an eye
Didn’t had time
To roll them-
To close them
To go-
In that peaceful corner
‘Cause in horror
The mind stands alive!

In a blink of an eye
Death embodies life
And the carcass
Becomes canvas
For time-
Concatenate this/dis order
in this/dis order
And call it a lie!

Their tongues are pouring down
Like the drips off a candlelight
Like the rains in July
They weep under the heavy crown.

The golden mean

In the mid winter
When the cold whispers
Decaying flesh splintered
Become one-
The I.

Virtuous amendments
Taunts the rotten
To unite.

With feral desire
The beheading of hydras
Resurrects the beast
Eight limbs, two heads
One dream.

The endless bleeds
rivers to inhume us
Carnage proliferates
and waits-

The golden mean-
Combustion
Cold, order, calmness
Peace.

Short regret

The rivers that stream
the stars that lit
the darkness that kept
this drum at rest.

The skies that switched
from dusk to dawn
the flowers that grew
from underneath cold grounds.

You are the dreams,
the free falling in bed,
you are all these;
a heart I kept fed.

With avulsion in silence,
breathless you wed
the rivers that stream
towards a dried watershed.

For the words I have said
for when I haven’t spoken
for now I regret
we’re lovers in different beds.

The Witness

I stole a pen
I gave a knife
I wrote a poem
I took a life.

I carved her chest
I lit a paper
I built a box
I kept her safer.

I stained my words
I spilled her blood
I gave it meaning
I took her heart.

I had a title
I sewed her in
I made it rhyme
I cried within.

I built my words
I scarred her skin
I felt them heavy
I dyed her with ink.

I opened the crate
I ended my ode
I laid next to her
I got all I sought-

Ink and blood!
Ink and blood!
The ballad of the pen;
the ballad of the knife.

Monolith

It’s not late,
we should not be sleeping,
the sky’s still ablaze
by billions of stars, flickering.

There’s still time to breathe,
to lit the candle-
The journey ill begins
for us to dandle.

It’s not far,
we should keep on dreaming-
The earth’s a jar
filled with stars, dimming.

This is our omen
for us to sheathe all our problems,
it’s the atonement
to wreathe our bodies with blossoms.