Karmic Tender

Waste not the day,
the Way pays it forward,
karmic tender proffered
demoralized prophets buffered
by angelic hordes,
deplorable desecrations of nations
the evolution of civilization.

The Tao initiates bows
by the uninitated to those they deem
genuflecting subjecting the Enlightened
to the worship of the unredeemed.

Seize moments in time,
life can never rewind,
reminding us of past moments sublime
sepia-toned remembrances
of street lights and picket fences,
innocent youth spent in unconscious exploration,
the commemoration of moments
the payoff of karmic debt foments.

Living in the Now frees
tortured souls to be despite the limitations
of their stations,
the documentation of genetic relations
the endless recycling of
instantaneous creation.

Time continues its remorseless dance
the days whirl, twirl, dip then prance
across the stage of spatial manifestation,
our honored relations observing
from beyond
as the Angels chime in with
heavenly song.



It’s a commonly accepted Truism in these the Last and most Fateful Days
that all Truths are Relative that nothing is Real except for what we
feel and think about the things we do and say this way is that of the
World of the Purveyors of Lust Unfurled of those who hate life enjoy
strife and the fight against all that is right who delight in the sight
of our pain their feverish games are played to win who is the Judge
those who possess the most sin or those whose ethical boundaries are
tossed upon the wind the Soulful Journey of Truth begins all Spirits
must rise and realize that tomorrow is unclear the Now is all that we
fear living in the Past the Future’s promise a deadly dream of steadily
eroding standards of life and increasingly prevalent panic and strife

I’ll break it down even further for those who don’t know casting stones
deals a fatal blow to any claim upon the Truth I know this having lived
most basic lesson a mundane blessing upon those with eyes to see and
ears to hear and the sense to keep those who truly love them near if
the cause is right then the fight is light released upon the darkness
of Death’s fell blight the plan is was and always will be to Conquer
and Divide I said to Conquer and Divide hide the Truth by sliding lies
and subtle misinterpretations within the Cipher of those who would be
Friends when spiritual power is witnessed by droves of eyes alight with
jealous hatred and subtle crimes of a zealous nature they dislike
the sight of Elevating Consciousness and do all within their power
including glowering upon flowering Souls shining with the Sublime
Divine I’d be remiss if I didn’t diss the spreaders of gossip and
untruths in the attempt to raise themselves but its Human Nature and
the lowest of emotions to brew that heady potion prepared for crabs in
a barrel clambering slandering and devouring one another when instead

it should be said that Elevation is the Key but those involved can’t
see that this is the Final Cause the belief that will set us free to
loose the chains upon our souls and cast our Truths to the furthest
shoals the pain and desperation within will wither and die without a
cry if we allow Relativity to rule the day it is not true what it
is they say those Philosophers Scientists and even the Novices that
play at social and political engineering they be steering visions
of equal pay in the Karmic Debt of cobwebs unswept in corners of
subconscious yearnings and desires that arise from the fire of
decisions made in the moment of passions awakening but all share the
burden of emotional hurdles no one being above the next the test
applied to us all we fall further into the Deep whilst awake and during
sleep our dreams disturbed by heavenly verbs and nouns that astound
wearing Ethereal Crowns like unto Ceremonial Mounds that gird our words
the fight is Now and here in the Real World or in Virtual Space we must
be True and realize our place beyond these games that people play the
Poet’s fate is to awaken the Day of Comprehension’s Dawning to know
that Truth is Eternal and all-encompassing that Nothing Is Relative

All is Real and you are responsible indeed for those sinful seeds that
you thought you’d left behind sown instead of blown by the Dead into
Headz without Dreadz but they will come back to haunt you and taunt
you with unrealized ambitions concerning the replacement of God with
worldly Perdition the defacement of Love in the placement of boundaries
meant to keep Souls from singing in syncopated harmony but all this too
shall pass as the last gasp of the Damned heralds Time’s forecast and
the Judgment of Relativity’s Reign will depend upon the pain suffering
and heartache caused to those True Souls who kept themselves pure and
immune to the lure of Babylon’s fatal call it’s difficult y’all to
write these words knowing that my fate may lie far from these shores
I implore those of Faith not to judge in broad swathes but to realize

that in time all of these things shall be known whether on the Day of
Death or the witnessing of God’s Breath total Translation from the
Physical Station in Contemplation of the Creation of a Poetic Nation
Equals the End of Relativity and the Birth of a New Earth on this Day I
Pray Amen-Ra.

Take that. And the beat goes on….and on…and on…on…on.

The Tyranny of Songbirds

Such sweet delight
to which others might exclaim
in stupendous awe
as might I
were it not for my sighs
and my reticent appreciation of
divine law

Multitudinous fowls do flock
do flutter by sweet fortune’s side
singing songs
to amaze and amuse
To mine ears in the morning
awakened from dreams
weary and yawning
my mood sorely tested and

Soaring high in the skies
birds do fly seeking mates
sustenance and the fulfillment
of soul’s ease
as above so below
so the stories do show
afflicted are they with the dreaded
‘happy disease’

As I listen to sweet songs
of poignantly drawn poems
sung by lover to mother to child
the world of birds mirrors our own
what is reaped may then be sown
to my face a small smile is then

Eternal cycles of life
filled with trauma
pain and strife
to all species
God’s promise is true
but the tyranny of songbirds
punctuate the meaning of
Divine words casting light
as delight does

Karma’s a Witch: Collisions of collusion and intent

Karma‘s a witch.

Men are of the sun, women are of the moon, they say. Mars and Venus, light and dark, lust and love. We are all both women and men in that we vary like shades along a spectrum, the extremes expressed within and between successive lifetimes manifest as the infinite and eternal cosmos. Emotional and physical characteristics run the gamut and there is no gender to love.

Unbreakable denizens of mythic proportions, the frailty of each of our chosen paths is based upon illusions shattered by life’s concordant realities. This shit is hard.

Tell me your problems
and I’ll tell you mine,
sublime woes
joy and transcendence,
in time.

Moment to moment we live in the ever-present now lost in the past and future. The record plays, scratched vinyl echoes in a lonely room. Alone and together we rise and fall, wobbling between right and wrong singing our breathless and unquenchable inner song. The band trails behind, my own personal theme song echoing in my mind. Maybe you feel me though, as you thread your way between yesterday, today and tomorrow’s problems,swaying to the beat as life brings you heat and you make decisions based upon illusions leading to collisions of collusion and intent, soul groups bent upon manifesting perfection’s vision matched perfectly against doubt’s relentless incision …

… revealing … our …

… delusions.

Words on a page on stage. Spoken to heads dead and alive, glued to an electronic eye.

Your sense of who you are, of me, myself and I, falling to my knees and screaming out to the sky, why? Why did I choose this path, why did daddy leave you to die, why did mama make you cry, why did I – no, your brother, sister or friend – betray you with disappointment and lies? There’s no reply, sometimes, yet, a choice has to be made.

Another path betrayed.

Branching off into future infinities the shade beckons beneath the tree of life, off to the side. Residing within screaming warnings soul glides, we ride the wave of indecision deciding by … not … deciding.

Colliding with fate, karma tumbling and casting her net far and wide, what is done returns full on, crashing over us like a tide washing sandcastles away, to be built upon the same shifting shoals another day. This is the way, the path, the cause and effect of the interplay between dark and light, your tearful eyes, my joyous might.

The way only clarifies when the moment arrives. The choice is now. But it keeps getting put off …

until now …

… and now …

… and now.

This shit is easy. Frail denizens of un-noteworthy dimensions, the power of each of our chosen paths is based upon realities proven by life’s bounteous lessons.

Till we find ourselves there not here, our fears cast away into the ides of time, become memory just a rewind fading into experience at building walls inside of our minds that divide us into discrete units of the divine. Crumbling at varying rates into decaying particles of quantum flux that replicate us endlessly, holograms of intent stream into future’s purview, doubts and worries about our abilities arising anew, striding roughshod over the irrepressible urge to elevate our view.

I can do and be anything
manifesting divinity
God-spark awakened,
wonder obliterating

Swinging back and forth, rising higher falling lower, growing and changing in tune with our innermost orientations. Loving and hating, building and destroying, we project what is within without, the ire and rage mixed with laughter and loving words. Movement is promised. The fallen mingle with the elevated, the transcendent discourse of eternity manifest.

Karma’s a witch.