The rules for writing a tetractys are as follows:
Line 1 is one syllable syllable
Segment of speech usually consisting of a vowel with or without accompanying
consonant sounds (e.g., a, I, out, too, cap, snap, check) . A syllabic consonant,
like the final n sound in button and widen, also constitutes a syllable.
line 2 is two syllables; line 3 is three syllables; line 4 is four syllables;
and line 5, is ten syllables.
The fourth and fifth lines may rhyme or rime, the most prominent of the
literary artifices used in versification. Although it was used in ancient East
Asian poetry, rhyme was practically unknown to the ancient Greeks and Romans.
But this is not mandatory.
Waste
Sea green
Wavering
In slimy traps
In woozy circles
Gushing at the deep water horizon
Melody still rooting in bluesy rock
Gloppy red icing
Crooked letters
Violet
Colored
Dream
Fish
Yellow
Flimsy boats
Lanky white man
Muzzy from the work
Cloudy indigo sky hanging round all.
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Feb 26, 2011
Existing outside myself
I am transformed From my ego into a you I am passive Existing outside myself, My ego is also my non-ego. I am you only In so far As I am your sensuous being. I'm your idea Taking on sensuousness When nothing real is permanent I'm here for The realization of your aims In Omniscience, In Omnipotence In Omnipresence |
My crying jail
Sometimes I'm over and often in My crying jail Like a hand of a corporate body Encompassing both belonging To that sadness. An inflexible realness Forcing eyes To speak Against that malignant silence Upon that lower lip, Forcing that bloodcurdling Inner scream to be An outer space song When it's pushed through fractured teeth Into a totally weird reality Like a shadow of An incomprehensible dream With inlaid hopes This reality slipping out When I awake alone To nurture my love In my painful freedom |
Michael Jackson's tears
Virgin teeth Of the musical instrument Ripping the melody Into sounds Spiritual vibrations From the depth of the souls Self-absorbed Emotional resonance In the air At the touch Between voices Secluded Seemingly fossilized Coiling into Our souls Agony and ecstasy Like making love Seduction, Passion, Jealousy, Domination And possession Mesmerizing the music Sounds enclosing Words Extreme sadness And extreme joy At the same time Tears becoming cubes of light Wondering On their situation of their becoming The resonating, Harmonizing effects Of the music and dance Resonating with vibrations of air Sublime change Of the speed, Strength, Rhythm Warmth flexibly Words Becoming alive Magic human voice Spreading wide by air And sparkling like Countless diamonds In the sun-light Time losing all meaning Apotheosis |
I’m your blue ocean
Giving or not giving voice to the heretical words...
Understanding that the true love is a scarification.....
For being or not being....
True love inundating the conundrum
Like that sacred river of longing,
Sometimes flowing swiftly through landscapes
Astounding the lurid heart.....
The sound of silence passing...
Passions galvanizing the wounds and painful mares for enduring...
Trying to heal the injury...
Flying gulls beneath the lower bow, touching the blue waters of the ocean.....
Waves and sad memories dancing on the golden sand....
Shying away from the horizon line....
Vessels screaming and shouting their hearts out....
Swimming across the ocean of red burning coals,
Searching for that golden threshold.....
The colors spectrum giving the necessary senses to the lights of absolution,
When their senses turn inward.....
Gazing the mountain from the windowpane...
From the indoor side of that rain-rinsed windowpane.....
Sitting on that mountain and gazing at the stars....
Birds gliding across, like rainbow rising, spreading their wings, streaming..
Those birds flying in a variety of ways, ranging from gliding to soaring to flapping....
The crystalline steeping slopes of the mountain multi faces....
Being decorated with climbing ropes, heavenly as seen from above....
And the crystalline waters, steeping cliffs, hidden lakes and lush forests...
A sign of a divine love...
Understanding that love is like the Earth and the gravity,
Inseparable.....
Groans and moans leading to mortuaries....
Life being like walking in the middle of the park,
Embracing the crouch air,
Or embracing change by resisting the defensive crouch.....
And going deep into the human system, feeling like being born again....
The smile on face painting an episode of the past,
Engraving our hearts with golden debris,
Like a golden pyramid, contracting pyramid.....
Generating our consciousness and chasing away insanity....
Sounds of silence passing...
Being like a blue ocean...
dedicated to Sulaiman Mohd Yusof
Understanding that the true love is a scarification.....
For being or not being....
True love inundating the conundrum
Like that sacred river of longing,
Sometimes flowing swiftly through landscapes
Astounding the lurid heart.....
The sound of silence passing...
Passions galvanizing the wounds and painful mares for enduring...
Trying to heal the injury...
Flying gulls beneath the lower bow, touching the blue waters of the ocean.....
Waves and sad memories dancing on the golden sand....
Shying away from the horizon line....
Vessels screaming and shouting their hearts out....
Swimming across the ocean of red burning coals,
Searching for that golden threshold.....
The colors spectrum giving the necessary senses to the lights of absolution,
When their senses turn inward.....
Gazing the mountain from the windowpane...
From the indoor side of that rain-rinsed windowpane.....
Sitting on that mountain and gazing at the stars....
Birds gliding across, like rainbow rising, spreading their wings, streaming..
Those birds flying in a variety of ways, ranging from gliding to soaring to flapping....
The crystalline steeping slopes of the mountain multi faces....
Being decorated with climbing ropes, heavenly as seen from above....
And the crystalline waters, steeping cliffs, hidden lakes and lush forests...
A sign of a divine love...
Understanding that love is like the Earth and the gravity,
Inseparable.....
Groans and moans leading to mortuaries....
Life being like walking in the middle of the park,
Embracing the crouch air,
Or embracing change by resisting the defensive crouch.....
And going deep into the human system, feeling like being born again....
The smile on face painting an episode of the past,
Engraving our hearts with golden debris,
Like a golden pyramid, contracting pyramid.....
Generating our consciousness and chasing away insanity....
Sounds of silence passing...
Being like a blue ocean...
dedicated to Sulaiman Mohd Yusof
Between visible and invisible
Your reality controls my life With something which binds My fleshly eye of the present Despite itself and despite all logic And my sharp-edged sound Within whatsoever limits And this love of living things In self-assertion. Your emotions and conations Are the embodiment of your feelings Your love is enclosed within them Your life inhabiting these You are the follower Of your own creed You need to be Freed from your own illusion And from your own constraints I can see your Upward motion Between visible and invisible worlds Aspiring ceaselessly Stroking the notion Absolutely saturating I can see your intuitive vision And your thought which thinks itself I can see your realm of realism Imprisoned in the identity of your thought I am the object of your senses And the essence of your beatitude When we try to keep real The words meaning. |
Between real and unreal
The things that have no words Surrounded by sadness That kind of sadness Penetrating in their silence Tears becoming cubes of light The cubes of things wonder On their situation of their becoming Being involved in a movement Apparently anarchic Needing a priori cognoscible Synthetic truths And empirical postulates On the shape of inner dislocation Their shear looping in unstable equilibrium Needing a stable equilibrium Being offered as emblematic symbols Of the diminishing boundary Between real and unreal Those things withdrawing themselves Becoming slowly Memories |
The piano chords
You play the piano chords In this very sonata as well as In the music of Prokofiev Emphatically catching the music's mood Fingers seem to stick the keys And the keys seem to direct the fingers When the thumbs move under them. You both look like a single being In together The piano seemingly breaks the sounds They penetrate my soul Searching for the necessary words I understand the story of your feelings. |
My love vibrates
My love vibrated
At the touch between the seconds
Encountering the pulse of the universe
And I felt the eternity
If I would love you
Only one hour
Or maybe one single day and one more night
You couldn't understand me
Now I still see the beauty of your soul
And I realize that
I can keep our vibration forever.
At the touch between the seconds
Encountering the pulse of the universe
And I felt the eternity
If I would love you
Only one hour
Or maybe one single day and one more night
You couldn't understand me
Now I still see the beauty of your soul
And I realize that
I can keep our vibration forever.
Moonlight Sonata
The cold winter can not destroy the miraculous invincible seeds.
The germination fundamentally changes them in the earth's maternity.
It is a new life running time when the cold snow irreversible recedes,
And a new spring embraces the deep mysteries of the magical fertility.
When the seeds germinate, they always throw out a few anchor roots.
Those splintered cracks of deep roots trying to hide inside the soils.
The tall trees need deep roots and branches to bloom and to bear fruits,
While the whole land receives and nurtures the life it essentially contains.
When the divine spark leaps from the divine hand to the human hand,
Making the human roots so deep as they can face the stormy time,
Moreover, taking an ultimate shape in the law of the very green land,
While life becomes a moonlight sonata, life which is always sublime.
The germination fundamentally changes them in the earth's maternity.
It is a new life running time when the cold snow irreversible recedes,
And a new spring embraces the deep mysteries of the magical fertility.
When the seeds germinate, they always throw out a few anchor roots.
Those splintered cracks of deep roots trying to hide inside the soils.
The tall trees need deep roots and branches to bloom and to bear fruits,
While the whole land receives and nurtures the life it essentially contains.
When the divine spark leaps from the divine hand to the human hand,
Making the human roots so deep as they can face the stormy time,
Moreover, taking an ultimate shape in the law of the very green land,
While life becomes a moonlight sonata, life which is always sublime.
Do you think
Do you think that our love's vibration And consonances will disappear in the oblivion? I think that the flight started, where we first met To give birth to our universe of meaning... Our meeting was like a fusion of stars... And our star's core fusion was for poetry, And it was certainly for love.... Our divine love Like the light, which glows more than ever In the darkness of our pain.... So let my short absence be not death And stay with me forever.... Don't leave me, Just love me And stay with me Forever...... |
Dancing with the cranes
Exciting, jumping, bowing, stretching
In jerky sequence, exaltation, exhilaration
Wild in a wet meadow, mutual rejoicing
Reflecting a sense of limited aggression.
Engendering hope for a free and open future,
With their elegant posturing and dramatic leaps
Enthusiastic and sometime even immature
High into the air with outstretched wings.
Coordinating bows, leaps and short flight
Liking to dance in pairs for a courtship ritual.
Turning their head and balancing the weight
Being paired for life, never trying to be perpetual
Bowing and bobbing, jumping for joy and fidelity
Throw their trumpet, grass, stone and feather
Performing ballet leaps with a graceful fragility
Better yet, they dance when they need to be together
Red-crowned, they certainly dance in the snow
Sometimes crying, crops need to be sown in June
Being in competence with light, their features glow
Soaring into the clouds as if chasing the moon.
Called simple 'the bird of happiness' in Japan
Or 'patriarch of the feathered tribe' in China,
A symbol of wisdom, painted always with the sun
A symbol of Vietnamese, beautiful images on the retina
Sandhill crane, always the great spirit of the wild
Bowing head, flapping wings in an exquisite dance,
Leaping upward, touching the ground like a child
Tossing wisp of grass, twigs into the air by chance
Imitating the crane dancers, seemingly being humane
At the ancient Chinese funerals and Okinawan festival.
In Japanese myths the soul takes the form of the crane
In India mythology, they stand for malice and betrayal.
In jerky sequence, exaltation, exhilaration
Wild in a wet meadow, mutual rejoicing
Reflecting a sense of limited aggression.
Engendering hope for a free and open future,
With their elegant posturing and dramatic leaps
Enthusiastic and sometime even immature
High into the air with outstretched wings.
Coordinating bows, leaps and short flight
Liking to dance in pairs for a courtship ritual.
Turning their head and balancing the weight
Being paired for life, never trying to be perpetual
Bowing and bobbing, jumping for joy and fidelity
Throw their trumpet, grass, stone and feather
Performing ballet leaps with a graceful fragility
Better yet, they dance when they need to be together
Red-crowned, they certainly dance in the snow
Sometimes crying, crops need to be sown in June
Being in competence with light, their features glow
Soaring into the clouds as if chasing the moon.
Called simple 'the bird of happiness' in Japan
Or 'patriarch of the feathered tribe' in China,
A symbol of wisdom, painted always with the sun
A symbol of Vietnamese, beautiful images on the retina
Sandhill crane, always the great spirit of the wild
Bowing head, flapping wings in an exquisite dance,
Leaping upward, touching the ground like a child
Tossing wisp of grass, twigs into the air by chance
Imitating the crane dancers, seemingly being humane
At the ancient Chinese funerals and Okinawan festival.
In Japanese myths the soul takes the form of the crane
In India mythology, they stand for malice and betrayal.
Crazy baboon eats flamingos (Fable)
Flamingos survive in the caustic space of the volcanic lake./ Flamingos' beaks skim tiny algae from the water's surface./ They watch out for predators like jackals or eagles, to make / Their mud-cone nest for holding the egg with their grace./ Flamingos have a behavior because they dance in the light/ Bowing, bending their necks, signaling with their wing, / Running back and forth and then suddenly taking flight / To wheel around the lake, seemingly searching for something./ Recalling the ancient Phoenix myth, that immortal bird / Who was consumed by flames, then rose from the ashes./ With such a poor sense of taste and smell as I never heard / With long neck and legs, faint pink feathers and yellow eyes. / Pinkish-white with red wings and two black flight feathers/ Founded throughout Africa, as well as Iran, India and Spain/ Risking from predation by marabou storks and Egyptian vultures, / Lions, leopards, cheetahs and jackals, risking again and again./ Swimming and flying, living in mangrove swamp or lagoon/ Feeding with diatoms, seeds, crustaceans and algae/ Recognizing their chicks by vocalizations under the moon/ Caribbean with crimson or vermilion, Chilean with pink so pale./ Greater flamingos, scarlet pink colored overall, all days / Extremely gregarious and living always in huge colonies. / Known as social birds for their community displays / Including 'head-flagging', 'marching' and 'wing salutes'./ The Hamadryas baboon being the largest type of monkey/ Originate from Saudi Arabia and Yemen, he is a fine mild/ Preferring rocky desert, it seems born to be chunky / Being a very intelligent primate endangered in the wild./ With a fluffy coat, his females have a brown haired whilst / And he is their male, silvery on his back and shoulders / With face and buttocks brightly colored and hairless / Eating plants, meat, grass, insects, mammals and lizards/ Dominating up to ten females at a time, grooming and playing. / Forming clans, clans forming bands, bands forming troops./ Flocking to the lake in hopes to grab a meal, and staying / In summer seasons, flocking together, to see flamingos groups. / Searching an individual, eventually standing out of the crowd / Or living on the edge of flock, a colorful individualistic/ An outsider living by its own standards, maybe very proud/ Ignoring the hungry baboon, who's skill is no more artistic./ Nature being so unbelievably close to the moralistic world / In which we humans dwell, with a lot of similarities/ Being an individual socially and sometimes becoming hurled / Or being in a crowd and socially stronger in front of enemies./ The rest comes down to character, and as I said before / A weaker character will certainly cease easily and soon/ Will be like the flamingo on the edge, who is more / Likely to break for being ‘eaten’ by the Baboon./ |
Human sacrfices (Rituals)
Mentioned in Rigveda, more exactly Soma Mandala Means praising with some energizing qualities, And a ritual of drink, also treatment of asthma, We find it also at later Vedic and Persian cultures. Ephedra sinica containing ephedrine is a Soma plant Used as a drink in both Vedic and Zoroastrian tradition, 'The building up of the fireplace performed over-night' Is Atiratra Agnicayana as a Srauta ritual of Vedic religion. Attested in the Yajurveda Samhitas, its mantras are in Brahmana With a bird-shaped altar as a building of bricks, which a hard work requires With various shapes like mahavedi, uttaravedi, dhishnya and drona This 'sacrificial altar' in the Vedic religion has a sacrificial fire. As adhvaradhishnya is an altar at Soma, where something is sacrificed Yajña is a ritual of sacrifice derived from the Vedic times They think that offering something into the fire, God can be reached Temple rites are a combination of both Vedic and Agamic rituals. The sacrificial division of Hindu scripture is the Karma-Kanda The most famous Shrauta Brahmins maintain these ancient rituals. A few thousand of them perform the Agnihotra or basic Aupasana And the fire sacrifice is always twice daily, at dawn and dusk. Shakti means cosmic existence, liberation and divine feminine power Shakti most actively manifests through fertility and female embodiment Also presented in males, Shakti also means 'The Great Divine Mother' Human sacrifices are carried out with Shakti, who is there present. A Sati is a widow, self-immolating on her husband’s pyre, after his death, To guarantee the couple's reunion in the afterlife and indians say That Sati releases herself from the “painful cycle of birth and rebirth” And all these human sacrifices for religious reasons still exist today. Genesis has Abraham preparing to sacrifice his son to our Lord Abraham takes his own son up on a mountain and an altar he builds Tying his son to the altar, he puts a knife to his throat, without a word But God tell him this is just a test of his faith, we are all His kids. Jephthah makes a vow to the LORD, over the Ammonites the victory asking He promises to give to the LORD the first thing coming out without his demand To greet him when he returns in triumph, for sacrifice it, as a burnt offering. ''You shall be fuel for the fire, your blood shall flow throughout the land. You shall not be remembered, for I, the LORD, have spoken.''-this is His command. |
Cosmic alarm
Living in land-mark times, Those times of uncertainty and imbalance Emerging new paradigms Through hearts and minds Like flowers growing through the cracks In the cement sidewalks Becoming conscious of all that has been unconscious Awaking to the beauty of our interconnectedness Being like pieces in a cosmic puzzle Understanding that the wisdom is in simplicity, Those profound and untapped depths of wisdom Understanding that fear is the primal universal human reality Understanding the human nature On the edge of extinction and breakthrough Realizing the power to change the outcome Synchronizing the nature and existence Living within our hearts revealing themselves Living in land-mark times, Those times of unspeakable intensity Looking within ourselves and awaking To the higher and deeper dimension of our being The Black Road or Xibalba Be Willing our participation in these energy shifts The day coming back to its sacred Zero point While the world's soul is crying out to all human hearts Coronal mass ejections shooting highly Charging matter toward the Earth Living in land-mark times, Those times of uncertainty and imbalance Nuclear bulge of the Milky Way Rising over the solstice horizon to the southeast Being victims of the reality and holding the reality together Keeping the light of awareness The field of human coherency Riding the crest of a very big wave Cosmic alarm clock ringing in our psyche, The realm where energy lives and weaves Coming the time of change to us, Leaving seeds for the future Flowering our human consciousness in harmony, That spiral of evolution. Living in land-mark times, Those times of unspeakable intensity The day coming back to its Zero point Cosmic alarm clock ringing in our psyche Waiting to be awaken from our cosmic amnesia Being inbetween time with minds founded in duality Living, dreaming and teetering between The extremes of extinction and illumination. |
Chaotic seconds
Your tongue seemed to be A stretching of your body A lying tongue For breaking the words Those words becoming simple sounds The hours are decomposed Into chaotic seconds Those seconds Which are sown in another time Our erratic thoughts anguish, They means only ignorance and resignation The space seeps Into another alien space The light dances on our bodies All its shades of red We love each other in our dream.. |
Be my vision
I'm your dream bird I am the dream itself Teach me the flight Teach me your love Teach me the infinite And when I feel In your impassioned soul My pain pulse I'm so happy that you exist. I can understand your meanings. Teach me how To find yourself in you Be my vision for a moment |
Bleeding words
To phrase each other doesn't make any sense.
And nothing hurts me like your bleeding words.
I pass my passing eye and I watch the fence,
Thoughts are slaughtered in flocks and herds
The screams become the stitches in your mouth.
Your silence torments and eats inside me.
You hurt me and this is an inconceivable truth.
Please, leave me away, I want to be free.
Leave me with all the pain and let me see again.
I am the golden prisoner of the unsaid words.
Between deforming walls, I always keep my strain,
While I wait to go to Heaven to receive my rewards
And nothing hurts me like your bleeding words.
I pass my passing eye and I watch the fence,
Thoughts are slaughtered in flocks and herds
The screams become the stitches in your mouth.
Your silence torments and eats inside me.
You hurt me and this is an inconceivable truth.
Please, leave me away, I want to be free.
Leave me with all the pain and let me see again.
I am the golden prisoner of the unsaid words.
Between deforming walls, I always keep my strain,
While I wait to go to Heaven to receive my rewards
Aracuana chilena
I look into your eyes and I can see Those wonderful Amsonia tabernaemontana You have so much trustworthiness and confidence And when I look deep in your eyes, I swear I can see your soul. I look to your soul and I see The uplifting spirit of the sunny sky and the soothing ocean... I can feel your deep love, I make love with you, You make love with me... A little more, harder than before, I look into your eyes and I see all my blue dreams come true.... I see two little birds of Aracuana Trying to leave their blue eggs.... |
In the same space (Concrete poetry)
(These two poems are conceived for making one poem, belonging to concrete poetry. The shape is ''two-in-one''.The space does not allow a perfect concrete poem.) Nothing ever happens.......................in the city. A man is beaten and robbed..............on the street But passers go further........................nothing had happened And marathon runners are silent........beside parking cars, So hard on themselves, .....................in a race against time. Close-circuit cameras.........................in subway stations Show the same video........................on the screens. The walls are closing in......................painted in the same colors. The air smells......................................of fear, anxiety, and simplicity. The willow trees grows.......................until they are looking so green Nothing happens for a long time........until it is all too late.. Nothing ever happens.........................if we don't make it happen. But it happened that We felt in love each other....................in the same space And our love is growing.......................every day, Our unconditional love Making us a whole.............................. for true happiness, In a profound Sense of fulfillment...............................and reason to live. |
Protests across Yemen
Protests spread across Yemen on Wednesday Demanding an end to the president Policemen fired in the air then forced their way To disperse the crowd of the people present. A foreign plot led the Arab world in chaos, One thousand people marched on the Sanaa street Some consecutive days protesting with pathos Ali Abdullah Saleh trying to defeat. President Ali Abdullah Saleh Against al Qaeda had been allied with US But he has began to smoke his nargileh When he heard 'down with the president's thugs.' Lawyers, students, and activists together Marched chanting slogans against President From Sanaa University toward the city center And they held their truths to be self-evident. Riot police blocked the main road of the city And clashed with protesters throwing stones. The government supporters with no pity Staged a counter-demonstration in those zones. It's about al-Qaida and counterterrorism And spoke on condition of anonymity Some tribal leaders with their power as mesmerism Because it was a subject having sensitivity. Yemen, a Middle East country having eucalypt And grievances like corruption and poverty, Felt aftershocks of pro-reform uprisings in Egypt While it was trying to grind its tribal complexity. This country staid in contrast to the Jordan wealth Even Bahrain people protested for economic justice With tea and kabobs they protected their health While they were putting pressure on king to make changes. Hundreds of Bedouin men blocked roads to demand Government all they should have, a job and a house, Moreover, to return their once owned land For that they waved flags, chanted and erected banners. |
Cobalt violet
With white flowers of Hibiscus tiliaceus purau blooming in the morning, yet,
With colors varying during day until they fall from the tree at night,
Those colors changing to yellow, pink, fuchsia, purple and finally violet.
With blue, violet or brown mountains, depending on the light.
With endless lagoon having an incomparable luminosity and hues varying
From jade green to turquoise tinged with violet, subjugating our eyes,
With a very long string of islets, in the middle of the ocean lying
And reef shores with red anemones, violet sea urchins and giant shells.
At noonday, with the lagoon flames of cobalt, viridian and agate searing the sight.
With glare of white light along the sands muting to an amethystine glimmer,
And cobalt changing to murex, the viridian to green-purple at the night.
Keeping so vivid in the moonlight the hyacinthine hues of the peaks across the river.
With mauve coral reefs and rose, violet pearls, as the mystical realms
Tahiti comes itself in the pearly light of a sunrise dawn for purifying
With villages glowing against shadows of violet within the forest of palms,
Shuddering for the gladness of the wind, through the water singing.
Hibiscus syriacus flower, cobalt violet fischer and amethyst are certainly violet
But an unique cobalt violet used Gauguin to paint Tahiti along with emerald green
He watched the pure color with his professional eye, at dawn with ultraviolet
And his paintings are not only famous but more beautiful that I have ever seen.
With colors varying during day until they fall from the tree at night,
Those colors changing to yellow, pink, fuchsia, purple and finally violet.
With blue, violet or brown mountains, depending on the light.
With endless lagoon having an incomparable luminosity and hues varying
From jade green to turquoise tinged with violet, subjugating our eyes,
With a very long string of islets, in the middle of the ocean lying
And reef shores with red anemones, violet sea urchins and giant shells.
At noonday, with the lagoon flames of cobalt, viridian and agate searing the sight.
With glare of white light along the sands muting to an amethystine glimmer,
And cobalt changing to murex, the viridian to green-purple at the night.
Keeping so vivid in the moonlight the hyacinthine hues of the peaks across the river.
With mauve coral reefs and rose, violet pearls, as the mystical realms
Tahiti comes itself in the pearly light of a sunrise dawn for purifying
With villages glowing against shadows of violet within the forest of palms,
Shuddering for the gladness of the wind, through the water singing.
Hibiscus syriacus flower, cobalt violet fischer and amethyst are certainly violet
But an unique cobalt violet used Gauguin to paint Tahiti along with emerald green
He watched the pure color with his professional eye, at dawn with ultraviolet
And his paintings are not only famous but more beautiful that I have ever seen.
Dance of love
I ride on your thighs and I embrace you with my both hands The wind scraps our deep love dance off with the sudden gusts Our swift flicks it several times, its tip just touching the wet sand. The sky is blue and leaves of our tree are covered with orange rust. My hands moved down your body before reaching your hips The predation tremor in the early life dance of thrills flounder Cradling my body in your arms my warm lips are against your lips Your thoughts made me shiver as my eyes wandered endlessly over You take small steps and make the turn into and become a part of my dance. In the next instant an explosion of dawn light and the stirrings of happiness herald You gonna take me to a place where I can shine, take me high feel so high trance I keep the new world in the grain of green, I see love in your eyes of emerald. You keep real close, lover whispers to my ear, I fly to the heavens’ high You run your fingers through my hair, then dance your lips in orbital circle Yet another rip in the space time continuum, and a return of perfect fry, Our love makes slain the sentinel, a deity who is surrounding our crepuscle |
The snowman
The snowman doesn't know why The reasons are balanced perfectly by feelings … He was dealing last week with a snowstorm Wondering to know how many snowflakes could fall.. The snowman thinks of The pure joy of being alive ….. Now rain comes down in trickles, melting the snow And he feels to let all the weight of life fall to the ground and become a part of it.... He shines like a porcelain now, And he knows that he has nowhere else to go. He makes an effort to distinguishing between These two incommensurable realms, nature and freedom...... He examines the black hearses spanning out of white He discovers the twilight sky, the rising sun and this inconsequential world..... He understands that flourish of innocence and simplicity …. He makes an effort to distinguishing between His own immortality and his existence …. The snowflakes begin to fall so softly upon his ice heart The gentle snowflakes begin to fall again... A blackbird begins to hang the darkness of the night The whole world constitutes for him now a great ambiguity and elusiveness He remains tightly closed with his owner inside..... Significantly, the night begins to kill the day's seconds.... He makes an effort to distinguishing between The ineliminable inputs of external and internal sensations.... He begins to have his own consciousness. |
The non-existent truth
The defined and undefined truth,
Endowed with knowledge or without knowledge,
Sometimes real or unreal,
Certainly including being and non-being....
Accepting that being is true,
Accepting the non-existence of being.....
When the absence of existence means the negation of being..
Accepting that truth did not exist,
And it would have been true that it did not exist, at the same time...
Understanding that truth is eternal.
Imagining the idea of a non-existing world,
Before its own existence...
Accepting the universal and immortal truth,
So interchangeable with being,
While the universal never ceases of itself...
Recognizing the truth always existing in an eternal intellect,
While the created truth is not existing....
Understanding the created truth as not existing...
Remaining truth, when the true things have been destroyed....
Or remaining truth, when all true things can be destroyed.....
Or remaining truth, when our minds can not see the truth itself....
Truth, being in sense, always as a consequence of its act.
Truth, not being in sense because
The sense does not know the truth it truly judges,
Even it judges truly about things....
The existent and non-existent truth.......
Love And Passion
Imperceptible, surviving with no time and space Or maybe surviving at another thrilling dimension Love has its distinct meanings and its grace For melting cloud slashed sunset, in sweet detention Wondering always about the uncertainty of life Passion is like going to the window to yell Carrying deoxygenated blood, leading always to strife It needs the scorpio because they are friends in hell. Creating a spiritual awakening, without loving intent Against love which transcends all logic and time. Engufled in flames, burning red hot mental torment Blue ocean and thirst for the truth lasting a lifetime Like a Caribbean Dream, settlement of Rainbow Bay Is the perfect love transcending logic being so strong That no malfeasant act nor hate can destroy it one day It bespeaks no selfishness, it can endure for long.. |
Latina time
This game is the way in which slaughter becomes an end in itself.
Acta est fabula plaudite
The play has been performed; applaud!
Surely, less obvious ways exist
The Darkness seeks to manipulate us into its service.
Actus non facit reum nisi mens sit rea.
The act is not guilty unless the mind is also guilty.
Once all of them have won a very special princess prize,
the game is over....
and they will never buy another one.....
Alis grave nil.
Nothing is heavy to those who have wings
And maybe we cannot understand what's going on,
but we can understand that the players
skillfully hide behind the walls....
They think....
Cessante ratione legis cessat ipsa lex.
When the reason for the law ceases, the law itself ceases.
We seek escape from reality, we undermine our self-esteem.
Maybe we are unable to see them, but we need to talk about this.
And maybe they do not trust us when we tell them to come to us if they need
to talk....
....about those who become their victims......
Sed ipse Spiritus postulat pro nobis, gemitibus inenarrabilibus.
But the same Spirit intercedes incessantly for us, with inexpressible groans.
Acta est fabula plaudite
The play has been performed; applaud!
Surely, less obvious ways exist
The Darkness seeks to manipulate us into its service.
Actus non facit reum nisi mens sit rea.
The act is not guilty unless the mind is also guilty.
Once all of them have won a very special princess prize,
the game is over....
and they will never buy another one.....
Alis grave nil.
Nothing is heavy to those who have wings
And maybe we cannot understand what's going on,
but we can understand that the players
skillfully hide behind the walls....
They think....
Cessante ratione legis cessat ipsa lex.
When the reason for the law ceases, the law itself ceases.
We seek escape from reality, we undermine our self-esteem.
Maybe we are unable to see them, but we need to talk about this.
And maybe they do not trust us when we tell them to come to us if they need
to talk....
....about those who become their victims......
Sed ipse Spiritus postulat pro nobis, gemitibus inenarrabilibus.
But the same Spirit intercedes incessantly for us, with inexpressible groans.
(((((((+10-10=0)))))))
If we could combine the perfectly good and the perfectly evil, we would obtain the imperfection. If we could take a piece of paradise and a piece of hell and we could gather them in us, our souls would become less beautiful. Because the truth of inside would swallow the lie of inside and, indeed, the absolute truth would be relative. And if our love could swallow our hatred, than we would love less. If me and you together, we could form an amphora, by trying to find the absolute truths in a new and perfect love for Him, we would need all our faith to remove all the lies and all our hatred from us. If our lie and our hatred could become two trenchant weapons and if we could choose Lucifer for hitting our relative truths, in terms of mathematics, than they would fall, by becoming downright uncertainties. The wounded love would disappear in us and we would turn into salt stones, as Lot's wife, by seeing Sodom burning.. And if the truth of us could rather be equal to the lie, inside, as love and hate could be equal, we would become absolutely nil, by dying slowly and and by melting ourselves in nothingness.. So, the reason for saving every second of us, by looking for purity, while the absolute truth and the absolute lie are in no touching, is that their arguments are always perfect.... |
Your words of love
I am seemingly missing your words of love, those words that were written on the sand and erased by the first wave. Do you remember, my love? I have enclosed them hermetically with that last kiss. And, after that, another kiss and another exotic beach and another feeling, autumnal feeling, of another ostensible seemingly love fulfilled my nothingness... Among corals and shells, dried by the winds of the sea, I awake in following my lost steps, taken by the waves and redirected to the great unknown in the sea, that great eternal..... I still love you I love you more, miss you more yes, I still miss you. And i realize that all I can do now is to lodge near the moan of the sea sand, which feels like a silk slipped worn-out dress when I touch it. And slantingly I elect the oblivion when I want to kiss again and again your gray-haired temple but, in reverting I receive only the kiss of our child... |
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