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"Ego is a process"
So senseless of me to see
the harness of truth derived me
upon this lingering realization
that I am simply a reaction to redemption.
Flowering petals of one or two
took its presence and shattered through
the cause and effect
was little mere than a growth of the complex.
Feelings are one of the same
how fool of me to think this way
that I had a free will in this soup of flicker
and made me blind to the big kicker.
"Takes the Piss"
Music of vastness intrudes my space
among the complexity in the same
I had no idea
I was the one to blame.
This colour of motions in progress
a colourful glass worned by the losses
of human knowledge at its smoldering core
a utility that made this a whole lot more.
Its coming like small crystals
accummelating among the grains of the sickle
plunging into the lots of connections
asking permission to be in the direction.
As the thoughts arise and vanish
so does my awareness of the malice
cause who am I to be this?
Am I not the one who takes the piss.
The glittering dust is shattered among the lotus
the orchestra of the unity plays the revolution
we are all in this with no relations
a plume without it`s volcano, the pumice without it`s accommodation.
The atmospheres are senses through your vision
it leaves the rest to the catching division
a hidden system beneath the awe
only to arise through a pure heart.
The violin cries to your weak fingers
crack and blister, dragged by insist.
Only to discover the moist of the mist
where the condense is the realist.
constantly found in subtle pain
in all pleasure and pain, it rains
Oh God, have I really gone insane?
"Hello, I am.."
Hello, I am
Therefore I think
I think that I am
Hello, I guess.
Process of writing
Communication of concepts
Hello, I am thought.
The puny little me
Oh, the harshness of reality
It seems so real to thee
An ice bucket comes for free.
The Big E
What the fuck is to be
No wonder we think
Hello, I guess.
Moonlight hits and starlight strucks
the gazing moment of the zevra rumbles
cast aside the virtue of virtuousness
to end the shattering voice of deep rest.
The mental growth in just
contract and open as the breath above
child clings to love and freedom
neglecting not the transfiguration of broad conduct.
The fauna of laughter sinks in peace
never to arise under the sizzling heat
capturing the moment in the here and now
good luck grasping what one hand can not.
Serenity of void and stillness
goes parallel to the artifact of neither
shining towards the empty nothing
just to break out loud, it was all bluffing.
The love of that which is itself
can never be held, and forever dwell
the breeze of moist from nowhere to here
is all it takes, just say farewell.
What the fuck am I?!
What the hell are all these sensations?
The need to know is insane.
The drive behind it, does it pull me away?
Why can I not just be..
Complete, at peace, in tranquility.
I desire this. My angel kiss.
Does this in fact create a mist?
Fucking questions! -leave me alone!
Who the fuck is asking, and who needs to know?
I`m sad, pulled and disgusted.
Don`t understand a shit. Completely busted.
I`m disgusted. I have to shit.
Stomach full of rotten apples, slides into the pit.
I want to tear open and be rinsed.
Why do I do this to myself? I`ve sinned.
Coffee tastes like bitter ulcer
yet I drink, yet I faulter.
Who the fuck am I?
Oh my God. I want to cry.
Poetry: About Me
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