God spoken Silence

For those of you who have called me aloof, and drunk on my own aloneness.

True is it that I hold council among the trees of distant, ethereal forests.

That I climb to the regions highest peaks, and nest among the eagles of passion.

For as I gaze into the hearts of man, eyes wildly boring into the repose of soul,

Into the stillest nights of dreary rendition…

Into the unrecognized Innocents of your purest God spoken silence…

I ask you, how could I indeed be near your hearts, unless I saw from afar?

Through nesting with passion and holding counsel amongst the etheral,

I am able to become What is needed by the universe, the cosmos begging and pleading

For a spark of understanding, a spark of clarity.

Through this astronomic abiogenesis, I am born and I come to you.

I come for you, to be a sea fairer amongst you that I may guide a trickling stream from your hearts,

That I might synchronize our resonating beings to more fully understand the air we breathe,

The words we speak, and the sights we so choosingly see…

Quintessential

Oh, dearest love, Ive already found what it is I never knew I was searching for. Is it not love, that we all desire? That wholesomeness, that feeling that fills every last crack and seam of your bones, body and mind alike?
It’s love, my dear. Not the codependent love you project into and onto a person you think you know, but the quintessential love that is the very foundation of the air we breathe, the sights we see and the leaps of faith we so choosingly leap that can only be found within one’s self. That moment when you realize everything you never knew you desired was being incubated in the deepest depths of totality right within your own self that you forgot to acknowledge since you were birthed from your mother’s image of a perfect being, her image of God-hood being you and what you represent… Being warmed and nurtured by every heart ache, every pain and piece of truth you have ever felt in your past thousand lives has thus far only brought us back from what we thought “life, love and happiness” Is into and onto that first breath we took after our images were born in the heart of the universe.

I’ve already found what it is I want.
It’s you
It’s me
It’s everything
It’s nothing

nilbynoon-

Take my hand as I die

Do you know what splitting lanes at 140 mph is like? It’s like committing to suicide. Voluntarily agreeing to let go of everything you ever loved, hated or even thought of. Even your distant cousin Benny whom you never even met because you were actually adopted and your adoptive parents had NO reason to introduce you to people who ARE NOT your family. It’s like giving it all up. The girlfriend who you fell for the second she looked at you the way you never knew a person could look at you, because all you had ever known were pain and self induced heartache that brought you to the gates of heavenly enlightenment that made you into the lovable and loving person you are… The sentient being who could empathize with the homeless person crying as they dig in their veins with a dull hypodermic needle they have shapened three times over with an old matchbox striking pad… This is what I give up.
Every time
And
I hate myself for it
While also not for the least of moments
Allowing myself to enter
Into
Negativity…
I let myself go every time
While also finding myself.
In you.
In death.
In life.
In me.
In suicide.

… It’s like giving all of this up. Right when you somehow, ruptured your left testicle and destroyed the right half of your body in a horrendous motorcycle accident… that last fleeting, escaping moment you somehow found the light and became the man you could only have dreamt of in previous lives… It’s like giving this all up. Voluntarily discorporation in the most sickening and beautiful sentiment.

As you shear past the two side by side vehicles within a two to three foot gap, you feel the weight of two world’s pulling you into their magnetic gravitative pull… Only to see the end of an infinite tunnel faster than you knew you even entered it. Seeing past all that loving darkness Into the truth at the other side.

It’s like committing to suicide. Like carving your own neck with a steak knife, and during the last few strokes of the blade, as the last as the stringy tendons and skins are cut away you feel nothing. Only a clear calmness.

You are not in shock.
You are not afraid.
Did that even happen?

Yes,
Yes,
It did.
I’m not giving
Up.

Gasoline

How illuminating is this feeling that encompasses my whole self. This feeling I have for you, this feeling I have for myself and that continues to grow within myself without restrains or boundaries. A fire was already burning inside me… But you poured gasoline on it and stand back with this sinister, yet genuinely pure and innocent smile on. Wearing it just as you would a floral print dress that waves gently Into the wind that couldn’t possibly blow softer. As if you knew all along but wanted to watch it happen because it never got old. And it never will get old, as I stand in testament to that… Having lived it myself. The image and memory playing and replaying in our minds for a thousand years before it ever took place.

Vessel

let not your body contain love,
Rather let it be a vessel of travel,
A conduit of energy that love is granted passage through.
Capture not these most intimate of feelings, rather become lovers entwined and enriched in one another.
Traveling together through the timelessness of feelings too rich to be bound.

Home

Home.
As you walk in you may
See the tapestry hung
along the entrance hallways
Following the same brilliant
Pattern as the Persian runner
That was Imported from a far away
Place I know nothing about
Besides the distant feeling.

As you walk along the runner
You may see the framed family
Photos I’m always graciously
Smiling in giving you the
Impression I am home
That I am loved and
That we are loving.

As you near the end of the
Hallway you may see the frayed ends
The once clean walls giving way
To unbelongingly filthy conditions
Giving you the impression
That all care has been
Left behind.
Just as I was.

Mustard coloured linoleum

Crumbling into the dust that settles into the cracks in the floor,

Wanting nothing more than to watch the particles that make

Up my body break down into the infinitesimal  specks they truly are

whilst I seep Into the outdated mustard coloured linoleum flooring that Has long

Since forgotten Its only reason, its only purpose in its once pretty world.

I see you

We all have an immensely different perception of what home is, or of what home feels like… This is my home. This feeling, this moment, this unrelenting wholesome serenity that encompasses all selves, all perceptions of selves and all other presences that may or may not be around. That sense that no sense that can begin to alert us of, nevertheless we find ourselves immersed in a new world. A new dream. A new beginning that we could never have imagined. Step into this place along my side, and breathe. Just breathe and allow yourself to be lost, and while becoming lost we inevitably find ourselves again resonating into the folds of every living molecule of the cosmos… In a living transcendence we sink into the abyss of warmth, of light and of darkness… we sink into the very depths of our own minds that when we finally see what we have been looking at the whole time we are at a loss of words. I see you.

Come Home

When the skies are desolate and shattered, void of all colour and hopes of a feeling worth holding onto… Plant your feets into the soils beneath you, allow your very self to begin assimilating back into the collective conscious we all came from, whence so long ago we chose to digress from… allow the roots of your being, the quaking stillness that dwells in the endless hallways of our infinite selves, our god selves and even our childrens children whom have already dreamt your mothers dreams, to Come home, and lay at the hearth that burns  in us all. Come home.