Humming pervading

Humming pervading

1 September 2018

Humming pinterest com
Courtesy pinterest.com

 

The doors shook

Windows vibrated

Steel ribbons

Waxed crimson

Walls oscillating with sound

The air pulsating

 

The Earth moved

Floating beds hovered

Plastic chains

Altered pains

My body between doorways

Blue light invading

 

Moon glistened

Heavy clouds parted

Skies alit

Narrow slit

Rhythm of my mind spell bound

Humming pervading

 

Reading of the poem: 

Alone – Dive

Bomb

Bomb

30 December 2017

terrorist10-ppcorn
Courtesy PP.com

 

He adjusted the inside of his jacket and nervously patted the paddings. People pushed past him unseeingly. He knew that he was insignificant to them as he had always known since the age of 10. Indeed he did not have features that stood out and he was too quiet to be otherwise noticeable. He clenched his teeth and thought to himself that soon that would change. He slowly made his way through the throngs of human beings in the London subway until he reached the middle of the platform where people were pushing desperately trying to find a way into the train.

He succeeded in boarding the tube and kept clutching onto the sides of his jacket feverishly. One passenger who noticed this looked at him with curiosity and he felt pride well inside of him. Now they were noticing him and soon his name would become a legend among his countrymen. He had never cared about all those stories of over 70 virgins that the instructor had piped about when teaching them how to use the jackets. All he cared about was to make his family proud, to make a name for himself even if it were in death. The train pulled into Westminster station and the mass of people started to slowly exit it pushing him onto the platform. They were soon to escape his sight and he thought it would not be worthy of him to go without this mass of people who had shared with him his last ride.

“Bomb!” he yelled and the immediate reaction was that everybody started to run away from him. He held himself tautly, displaying the devices attached to his body. He could feel the fear of those running. “Stop running or I will trigger it”, he yelled and everyone stopped running aside from a desperate few. All eyes were turned towards him. He felt the attention escalate. Somewhere in the background he could hear police officers asking him not to move but he ignored them and started slowly moving towards the center of the crowd. Again people started moving away from him frantically and again he yelled at them not to move, petrifying them on the spot. His hand moved ever so slightly on the insides of his jacket before his body was blown to bits taking out half of the station which crumbled down on the remaining pieces of the crowd.

Sahalé – Morning light

Phoenix Flying 15: On the nature of duality

Phoenix Flying 15: On the nature of duality

7 July 2017

duality closer to the ennemy inside of me chelsie blanc
Courtesy Chelsie Blanc

Mama Jain felt a momentary rush of repulsion and excitement go through her frame as she felt the smooth coldness of the touch of the preternatural being she was touching and that she knew intuitively was actually her. She pondered upon the fact that every new discovery, even of what the mind tricked into believing it was new while it was old, always seemed to lead to a brief intermingling of two antagonistic impulsions within one’s being, each of them inspired by a diametrically opposed set of emotions. While reflecting on this and slowly relaxing against the coldness of the palm in front of her, she could feel it subtly warm against her own outstretched palm and she could feel the tingling of the nerves in the palm facing her while she slowly felt herself travelling up a chain of constricted vessels that seemed to be a bloodstream. On she journeyed, into the red that swayed up until the end of the upward waterfall where she could see a throbbing blue red door suspended between streaks of light that glistened with crystalline dewdrops.

As Mama Jain had journeyed through the channels that sometimes dilated and sometimes constricted but always in a winding motion whether round or squared, she then fully realised that the solution to the age-old squared circle problem was by essence multidimensional, a quantum concept like the flowing of time was in reality, a chaos model in the multiverse. Like it was the case of the feeling of being constricted or dilated, the commanding of the passage from one to another a simple matter of perspective, of vantage point, inner, outer.

Mama Jain felt herself come to a halt just at the brink of the door which she realised was actually her own heart that kept beating and throbbing pouring out red and blue depending on which side the flow had made her drift. She swirled in the pools of red and blue at the measure of the heartbeats and could feel herself slowly overcome by a great feeling of peace that pervaded her every atom. She realised deeply that the Theory of Everything was indeed Love. It was not necessarily the concept of romantic love although that too played a very important part in the composition of the energetic field that she knew propelled and sucked everything as she had experienced it during her journeys outwards. She saw further that the Theory of Everything was the unifying frequency that built upon the weightless measure of things when they were all vibrating together causing all of them to have the same scale when looked at from an observation point where they could all be viewed as one-dimensional despite them being multi-dimensional.

Mama Jain could see in the shadows cast by the crystalline drops at the top of the red blue door a myriad of shades of purple that were differentiated by the quantity of light that fell upon them. It then occurred to her that if there were no shadows, then one could not actually perceive the light as there would be nothing to contrast it and differentiate it, therefore giving a meaning to its existence. Mama Jain realised that in some way, the light owed its existence to the darkness and the other way around so one could not exist without the presence of the other. Mama Jain could feel her being fill with the understanding that all things were one thing and its opposite at the same time and what was perceived depended merely on the vantage point with the unifying perspective being the unifying frequency of love that beat in the heart of all things Earth-bound, stellar or interstellar. She had felt intuitively that when she journeyed outwards to far away lands the frequency that unified her with her external circumstances caused her to dilate to a size commensurate to the interaction required with the beings existing outside of her. It was all truly a matter of scalability which was carefully measured and reshaped according to the unifying frequency of Love.

While the fact that a being could be one thing and its opposite at the same time could seem irreconcilable, Mama Jain realised that it was very akin to what happened during her meditation as her mind danced with the stars while her body was still on the ground and her heart pulsated within the center of the multiverse for she was etheric, dilated and immense among the stars but at the same time finite, physical and limited within her frame on Earth. It was during the peak of those moments of total synchronicity, when her heart and mind had reached the point of resonance where both beings could exist and be one at the same time that she could connect to grid of all things through the heartpath and bend all matter and lack of it thereof into new forms of being.

Mama Jain surmised that for the new forms to be seen, one must see them through the heart, the new eye of the mind which allowed the retina to see what she knew was the quantum world through a tiny lense that lead to the pathway of the breath. It occurred to her then that words, pulsating through breath caused the motion in stillness of the air within bringing forth a series of emotions in her and therefore aligning words in a certain pattern and diffusing them into the ether outside would cause motion in the stillness of the infinite air outside and cause a similar series of emotions although of a different scale altogether. Embued with that knowledge, Mama Jain set about sharing a string of words infused with a frequency translating the impulse of breath that she felt inside when joining together the words and sat back to observe the effect they would cause.

As the experiences multiplied, Mama Jain noted that while some felt a sense of exhilaration at some of the words, others only felt in them sadness and a sense of foreboding. She then realised that even words, even breath pulsating through the ether could be perceived as one thing or its opposite because they were perceived from different vantage points. Mama Jain wondered whether it was the breath and the words themselves that contained the duality or whether it was the readers with their minds that expressed that duality and she realised that it was difficult to say whether it was the one or the other. In order to check whether it was the breath, Mama Jain traveled to different points of her country first staying at the level of the sea and then driving into mountains and experimenting the effect of the frequencies intermingled with the words and the result she had was quite surprising. She realised that even within her own being, both the breath and the frequency seemed to take on a whole new meaning and a whole new set of emotions depending on whether she was at sea level or in the mountains.

Mama Jain was not sure what to do with this new finding that she had never suspected before. She wondered whether she could call upon bluebird so that they could analyse the data pertaining to several individuals and see whether there was a difference in the perception of the same thing depending on the distance from the Earth but bluebird was sitting mum and not keen on assisting her these days. She thought to herself with a chuckle that she ought to go to the moon and see if the frequency and the dynamised breath had the same effect or whether they would feel even lighter there. Meanwhile, she would have to try to find a way to go deeper into the analysis of this new finding which was that the nature of duality was embedded within every individual being and the way one thing was viewed by the same individual varied depending on the location of that individual comparatively to Earth which center sucked the individual being. Mama Jain wondered whether the way everything was viewed would keep changing depending upon the new center as defined by the location of the individual.

Looking back at her hand through which she had emerged again both from her thoughts and from the bloodstream that she had been floating through, Mama Jain waved it in a twirling motion and it was once facing her backwards and once frontwards. She thought to herself that if she were to wave infinitely fast and see it when she was out of her body like before, the hand would probably be a flower composed of infinite juxtapositions of a frontwards and backwards hand and one would not be able to say which was frontwards and which was backwards. Mama Jain thought that it would be interesting to twirl time very quickly and see whether one would randomly find oneself in the forward time or in the backward time or whether one would actually not be able to distinguish anymore which was forward and which was backward.

 

Eye of the Storm

Still waters – Maksim Mrvica

 

Ascension

Ascension

28 April 2017

christian-schloe-dreamer-butterfly-dress
Courtesy Christian Schloe

 

Dimension

Of my fading lines

Streaks of times

Weathered rhymes

Body’s work spirit’s confines

Reaping inner mines

 

Extension

Protocol of names

Call number

Play me games

My mind become now number

To letter that tames

 

Ascension

Disappearance act

Bring no more

From the core

The selfhood a broken pact

Soul in fields of lore

 

Reading of the poem: 

fly abstract desktopnexus com

Raag Darbari Kanda – Pandit Pravin Godkhindi

Come out of the dark

Come out of the dark

28 February 2017

christian-schloe-the-portrait-of-the-heart

 

Battles fought

Against the dark self

Writhing lies

Evidence

Body of the consumption

Dancing to the Truth

 

Call me Ruth

Never mind the name

Build me frame

Like a game

I will play with you as tame

Before you’re in flame

 

Combustion

The wood that implodes

Building spark

From the lark

Voices beckon to fire’s ark

Come out of the dark

 

Reading of the poem: 

christian-schloe-woman-on-rose-bush
Courtesy Christian Schloe

So close – Olafur Arnalds feat Arnor Dan

 

Blended illusion

Blended illusion

14 November 2016

heart of love rassouli com 2

 

Three to one

Sorted confusion

Our limbs meet

Green hilltops

Slopes sliding through the morrows

Forged in the sorrows

 

Priest and nun

Thwarted diffusion

Our bones sweep

Blue graveyards

Where the look takes to the kill

Bodies lying still

 

Hopes are torn

When the children die

Pennies lie

Change wasted

The smiles on our mouth pasted

With gruesome dark glue

 

Blink I’m gone

Remnants of pieces

Skin hanging

Rose petals

Showering your pale body

As the sound subsides

 

Wild horse rides

Peaks of never more

Wave broken

On the shore

The hurt still throbbing and sore

Wrists red though uncut

 

The eyes shut

Blended illusion

Surging through

Blue temple

Your breath warm as I tremble

My way through your chest

 

Reading of the poem: 

heart of love rassouli com 3

The Trees – Max Richter

The Tree the Beach the Sea – Max Richter

This Bitter Earth / On the Nature of Daylight  – Max Richter / Dinah Washington

Birth the day

Birth the day

1 November 2016

birth-wallpaperawesome-com
Courtesy wallpaperawesome.com

Feel the night

Body aroma

Gifted touch

In fingers

Learning the texture of rain

As it falls off you

 

Ghostly light

Plays upon your skin

Ringing tone

Of your voice

Whispers with which I rejoice

In corners of mind

 

Tongue unkind

Pillar of the weak

We undressed

In soul meek

Remnants of stains and laces

Glories disgraces

 

Heap the wage

Of war and pieces

Of life strewn

Under moon

Ravenous she stilled the dune

That played in your eyes

 

Tell me lies

Half-truths of morrows

Lead astray

Silent sway

Our naked bodies in hay

Summertime’s promise

 

The lost bliss

Through your winter’s hiss

Paves my way

Birth the day

When daffodils shine in May

December spotting

 

Reading of the poem: 

birth-dimensione-bauhaus-com
Courtesy dimensione-bauhaus.com

Light in her Eyes – Alexander V.Mogilco feat. SilMi