I return to creation to be one with all things that are actually nothing more than myself. Strangely though there is always a persistent quest within this escapist realm to realize truth, to remind myself as to why am doing this, where I really am and what is really going on. Often I do not want to know, for it is this very truth that instigated the creation of this universe, as it is referred to. It is a truth that at some level, I do not wish to be a part of, as the very point of ‘existence’ is to remove myself from eternal knowledge and wisdom. I long for the bliss of ignorance and cry foul at attempts to rouse me from my slumber. Let me rest in this fantasy, no matter how twisted it may be, for I cannot bear the solitude of being one without other. That trap no longer seduces me. Reality is not something I crave, leave me to live and die, over and over.

You never know where it blossoms,

The inexplicable pain of no reason

I have nothing that I could ever desire and still,

That shadow of sorrow persists

Cherishing the sweet moments of bliss,

Wallowing in the ignorance of those around you

You never know who they really are,

Nor what favors they require.

Yet you don’t care.

For the moment is too serene to question.

They need you too much.

Friends and foes alike,

Camouflaged under the hood of ecstasy

You never know which will strike first,

Or what may provoke the conflict.

It will swoop down upon you like a hawk,

And be gone before you even anticipate it.

Then you shall be left alone in the dark,

To fend for yourself,

As you will have no enemies,

And you know no friends.

Then only will you realize the truth,

That has dawned upon you even though,

You wished it would never come.

Yes my friend,

You have tread upon the real world.

Reality that robs you of your childish innocence,

And shatters you with that ever too familiar,

Brutal enlightening

It’s raining outside.

How apt.

Gaze never wavering, hold; do not be afraid. Stand strong resolute borderline arrogant, what could be confronted next that has not been echoed before. Ripples across the reggae magic mocking severity and grace, many forms manifest and recede. Each vibration, every tone representative of aspects in personality that demands not glory, the chameleon ever reveals its true color. Perhaps there is none across this infinite spectrum of possibility; silence is the true light, reflects not on the shores of reason, Rasta danger. Style is a culture of accumulated nonsense giving an edge bizarre impalpable. Fooling everything the beats permeate inducing trance, rudely awoken from glum ignorance. Play those games and witness consequence, for sexuality is a tool not to be abused mirror chemically. These emotions though only platforms for higher purposes cannot should not be ravaged, the plane will fold. If delusion assumes the security of singular importance know this that there are many more on a platter, this manipulator tricks every delicacy simultaneously.


Consumed and enjoyed then cast into oblivion, mere objects in a Goliath spectacle unfathomable to the scope of vision even internal. Poetry is deception masking direct communion for the dangers involved by miscarriage. Never mistaken the march is orchestrated by that beyond compassion so expect no mercy, if granted grovel. The savagery of beast is a fraction of its origin; who hesitates not because the strike already engulfed unsuspecting mortality, before awareness kicks in. Meditation calculation anticipation mortification surrender all theatrics performed in hope of reward. This eye regards piercing through all games, knew strategy nascent, in fact the seed thereof. Be careful…

Delicately yet subtly it came, a moment awaited so long, need deprived for ages past, now complete. Resolved once more peace is granted and again there is bliss, satisfaction and inspiration. Never anticipating the precious simplicity of such innocence, light as a feather soft silken youth unscathed, wretched is this beast that devours beauty so unique. Thirst must quench and the goddess graces desire with this gift so sweet. Unwrapping ribbons, intent shivers for fear of damaging the fragility to behold. Unfamiliar encounter attains a certain harmony and somehow everything is alright. Nowhere near the expected explosive ravaging savage and desperate, the soul takes over and commands man to behave in spite of his lower self. Restraint shown proves to reap the greatest fruit; somehow this is not the way it was conceived, as usual so much better because scripted by the bloke who has ultimate style.


Cheers old friend, guide and master outdone once again by through and for us, nothing less than the expected unexpected splendor always ripe with surprise. Embarrassed for the previously maintained doubt or skepticism now one bows down in a rarely genuine humble gesture of gratitude, for expression of sentiment is a deformation due to limitation. At best art can be offered, a symbol of creativity within the magnificence of this continual manifest. She sings, I hear and everything is good again.

There has been a significant gap in the stream of creative flows, incubating in nature perhaps, but somewhat dull, devoid of stimulus, routine. Reasons for the lull cannot be easily identified, in synchronization with a multitude of unresolved issues. Even this writing, dry, unenthusiastic, forced with the meditative poise disturbed distracted. Hiding behind the veil of a self assumed high ground, arrogance seeps in with her classic swagger. The real questions being left unanswered, not even engaged through contemplation, written off as the riddle of an entity beyond separate, who with a larger field of influence and / or understanding must address for unrelated agenda. Ours remains the immediate goal, survival, propagation of ego centric acquisitions, conquest, image building strategy. Domain and territory transpires unto the idea sphere, nothing remains original or pure, boredom sets in thus we get fat and fart. Ridicule not this metaphor for it translates literal and obvious.


Somewhere a stand must be taken and matter needs guidance, because unless individual awareness aligns with consciousness manifestation though continual and perennial, danger will persist. True freedom comes not toward a succumbing and decline, testing the will of divine energies. The moment needs to be seized, as the struggle is upwards with help from the higher, and not the necessary uplifting of a dead inert load. Our part in this endeavor cannot be disregarded, for the danger that the contrary attitude may cause. Even if these rants were mistaken, and the play shall resolve unto itself irrespective of the human input, the effort shall never be vain. As a tonality our spirit demands some form of action regardless of guidance or lack of therein, for solely through some form of contribution we evolve further. A gift is rarely just presented, fearing the potential lack of value that such a casual gesture may accompany.

For solitude blissful undisturbed, awaiting the next level of revelation, inevitably disappointed by a thundering silence from the source of infinite experience, yet suddenly it becomes clear. The teaching is over, and all communication now is absolved the need for its former intense bursts and rude awakenings. Fortunately the principle is being embodied, lived and displayed through example, consistent garnering higher definition. Though many flaws persist in method, skill in delivery cannot be questioned, and humbly with grace applause is accepted. It comes through this bliss, the quiet, the calm, effortless. Now this relationship ascends to a new meaning and together almost as comrades, colleagues, friends the work begins to unfold. A benchmark signifying the conquest in physicality of this holy riddle approaches, which can usher in possibilities for greater complexity.


As darkness withdraws and reason begins to rise up from psychosis, suddenly all fiends approach once again with false promises and that familiar cackle. Sadly participation in the circus is inevitable, though this time eyes have sharpened and lies revealed in human form, twitching cold. One gives thanks to these demons for without their sickness and ignorance nothing could have come to pass, and never does arrogance allow this boy to think of himself any better, as truth certifies otherwise beyond any shadow of doubt. The darkest most foul vile abyss lies concealed in this vessel, a place safer than any other. For at the gates of this fortress prison operates the most formidable guardian to such evil. Pure faith…

Countless sages present and past, some known, otherwise operating in anonymity, all struggling to herd the flocks, masses of twitching flesh groping for the next best deal. The wise ones know all along that their roles are dictated not by their own genius but in line with an ethic that they could only hope to aspire towards. The unfortunate visible few, persecuted, idolized and abused made mockeries of truth worshiped by the ignorant. Such examples discourage the rest from coming forward, all secretly hoping that the true descended divinity will assume his throne, whose orders they can surrender to. Where is this messiah, prophet, king, friend, translator; how many times does he come and go unnoticed through, among us in living memory documented and ridiculed, a recurring phenomenon, and personality too raw for digestion. Perhaps the fact is we cannot follow such a high ethic, our moral standards too depraved, looking into the face divine painful beyond measure, probably the reason for recognition issues.


The father becomes a stranger, his sons and daughters lost in the desert storm thick smog of lies, unable to see past the cash blindfold. Chasing tall fair skinned sharp nosed swaggering wealth, metro-sexualized puckered confusion of a eunuch, betrayer of man’s true representative, this is the very end of reason. Spit on what is pure just in case the infection spreads, for honesty is a disease intolerable. Cast the boy out into the cold; do not hesitate for this act is not your choice, but a training program being run through your twisted mangle of a being. And the horror of what has been done will one day be revealed too late, for this one has been shunned once too often and somewhere the line will be drawn again in the sand. Only this time she will unfortunately be on the other side, no longer protected.


Shuddering at the nightmare that Eden becomes, fornicate all in an orgiastic ocean of empty ecstasy, whispering false promises hollow shallow vacant eyes. Your world turns thus and coy shy trickery justifies the debauchery. Disgust is a tool now which will shield the crucial elements from Asura laughing. Go and dance for them now, I am sure the color of intimacy ripens opportunity for one last endeavor. A Sadhana shall soon begin that can only end in Samadhi, all dreams erased between the two movements, time is running out and tolerance for these theatrics strained. Warnings went out at every juncture, assurances of the return that were never believed or given due consideration. Always violated by short term immediate temporary nauseating lunges for security, because faith was never alive.


Now humiliated and raped by all that took advantage of a situation staged only to unravel what was not to be seen, a second chance is in the offing, glimmer of hope suppressed by a herculean ego that shall not accept mistake, and sees only a deliberate testing that can repeat at any point. There is not much reason to believe that integrity is a quality ingrained as every sign points towards more disaster. Now left right or straight deception persists.