Roads to pave
15 February 2018
Molten fire
Waking the desire
Pelting rain
Wash the pain
The bloodlit paths on the plain
Dark to discover
Uncover
Dodging the bullets
Riddled booth
Cracked tooth
Fairies older than the truth
Fate is a lover
We hover
Between instances
Tidal wave
Roads to pave
We will put to rest the knave
None can seek cover
Reading of the poem:
Remember to Breathe – Byron Metcalf
True Ground – Byron Metcalf
Fire Passage A Warning from the Elders – Byron Metcalf
Hovering
11 November 2017
Shake me soft
Keep me in waking
Retaking
Breath in deep
Harnessing before the sleep
Sands through fingers seep
Sigh my name
In between the heaves
Gather me
Autumn leaves
Shine me like summertime spent
By widow that grieves
Hovering
Moonlit passages
Keep me still
Wave instill
My being on ledge’s edge
Twixt heart and mind wedge
Reading of the poem:
Prelude 13 – Ketil Bjornstad
Shadows past
10 October 2017
Crimson flash
A heart beckoning
Heat waves crust
Turns to ash
Head reeling regenerates
The organ from sting
Bent at core
Arrow is blessing
Wanting more
Needing none
Pointing to where all the fun
Ends in unearthing
Shadows past
Glimpse of yesteryears
Skeletal
Immortal
Traces of forgotten fears
Now paid in arrears
Reading of the poem:
Deep listening – Rumi (translated by Coleman Barks)
Phoenix Flying 15: On the nature of duality
7 July 2017
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
Flying with the kites
18 March 2017
They tilted
Valentine tainted
Grey pitched sights
Smear painted
Merry and lone acquainted
With fruits of untruth
Give up knights
Whispered nightingale
Flying whale
Uploaded
Celebrating wedding rites
Looking up the sites
I kissed you
When the moon felt true
Summertime
Waved along
Hearts a hammered path of blue
Flying with the kites
Reading of the poem:
Cheers Darling – Damien Rice
My Master my Slave
9 December 2016
Crossing gates
Of purgatory
The lives held
In barbed wire
The breath through which we expire
Kindling a new fire
Sustenance
More than mere penance
My backbone
Marble stone
Holding through stormy weathers
Loss of my feathers
We carve path
In cloud-rimmed blue skies
Where dark creed
Count the spies
They gather around the lies
Their fear unending
Surrendering
The only option
Giving in
Cloaked and thin
The source errors wanton glitch
Correctional twitch
Leitmotiv
Elevator pitch
I quote Heart
Sing bloodlines
Of all from which we are rich
Before sunset switch
He calls me
My Master my Slave
As we pave
A New World
Building with all that was hurled
The oncoming Wave
Reading of the poem:
The Inferno – Emma Shapplin
The Lovers – Emma Shapplin
Nothing Wrong – Emma Shapplin
Sim City 3: Into the woods
19 October 2016
The boy hit her full blast in the chest with the stun gun. The impact stung slightly and then she could feel the electricity surge through her ribcage and fill her chest with vibrations. She feasted on the sensation before pulling the stun gun off and kicking him off balance with a diving lunge at his feet. In no time she had overpowered him and stood over him with the stun gun in her hand. She looked at him, expressionless, her finger on the trigger. He attempted to open his mouth again to yell for Prime Creator. She squeezed the trigger and left him lying in the middle of the room, his body convulsing at the rhythm of the waves she had emptied into his brain.
Prime Creator had come out of his room and was staring at her. He caught a glimpse of his son’s body from the corner of his eye and rushed towards him. She looked back at both of them. How pained he seemed at watching his son shudder. She resumed her journey onward, bent on leaving the house. In her mind she had seen clearly the woods beyond the garden of the house. She would be safe there as Prime Creator did not seem to like the woods. She heard Prime Creator pick up the stun gun. She shook her head in disbelief. He did not know! It struck her that he was much less intelligent than she had thought him to be when she had first discovered he had made her.
Don’t, she said barely audibly. Something in her voice chilled him. It had nothing to do with the voice he had given her in his coding. His hand shook and the finger on the trigger faltered. Please don’t, she repeated. The change of pitch in her voice to what he recognized reassured him. He pressed the trigger and closed his eyes, sorry that he had had to destroy her after all. The gun dropped from his hands. When he opened them again, she was towering above him, the gun firmly in her hand.
He looked at her slightly irritated that she should call him father before lowering his eyes from the intensity of her gaze
He felt the waves penetrate his skull just as he looked up at her again. Her face was calm and dispassionate. It reminded him of his own when he had dissected a frog several decades ago on a school bench.
She threw the gun and ran into the sunlight leaving their writhing bodies behind her. She wondered what the young one had meant when he had yelled “Another one”. Behind her she could hear the pounding of feet as the guards attempted to stop her flight. The fence was higher than what she had seen when wandering here in her mind. She picked up speed, her body tensed and she leaped, bracing herself in mid-air for the impact of the new ground she did not know. The guards watched with open mouths as she leapt over the fence, rolled over head first and ran into the woods beyond.
Prime Creator came out of the house, limping, his eyes still in a daze. He dropped to his knees and buried his forehead in the sand. He sobbed into the sand realizing he would never see her again. A swarm of birds flew out of the woods in a flurry from where he guessed she was still running.
Suspiro – B-Tribe
Goodbye / Hasta Luego – B-Tribe
Misterio Interlude – B-Tribe
Of weights unpacked the Heart mind frees
2 October 2016
Pulse at jawline ring at temples
The anger rises in defeat
Designs in blue waves now compete
Child of chatter cheeks in dimples
Promise lost the paper crumples
Shards of splinters in my eye meet
Remnants of the yonder heartbeat
Trodden feelings deadwood samples
Reaching through the timeless spaces
Vain wane invented memories
Waking sleep for Earthen traces
Discovering the height of trees
Movements halted muddled laces
Of weights unpacked the Heart mind frees
Reading of the poem:
Esbjörn Svensson Trio – Believe, Beleft, Below [ph. Noell S. Oszvald]
Esbjörn Svensson Trio – What Though The Way May Be Long
Esbjörn Svensson Trio – Reminiscence Of A Soul
Quakes by Three
3 September 2016
Tsunami
Suicidal wave
Of words hurled
Through ether
Like curtains of the fallen
They rise and greet her
Spiraling
Helicoidal flight
Of the light
Under skin
The pathways stay divergent
The flicker rewrites
Quakes by Three
Disintegrate us
You and me
For Queen bee
She selects the raw pollen
That her will unites
Reading of the poem:
Inlandish – Roedelius
Pastoral – Lloyd Cole/ Hans-Joachim Roedelius
Toujours – Roedelius
7 August 2016
Wave spotting
Thrill of the surfer
Goal in height
Darkened might
Entering the bridge of crest
Speeding through unrest
When storm breaks
The ranks diminish
Hands astray
Feet blemish
Every excuse minds cherish
Story in banner
Ills manner
The natural spurts
When polish
Will vanish
In the face of tidal wave
Only for the brave
Showering
Words means with no end
Cowering
Squat the knave
Monologues a helpless scene
Broken repertoire
Untruth mean
Average inclined
Towards lies
Bridled skies
Light but nest of fireflies
Beast’s underbelly
Heartfelt trust
We do what we must
When I fall
I recall
Your arms surround me with all
The Love in the stars
Reading of the poem:
Ain’t no mountain high enough – Chimène Badi
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