Letters from the past won’t train
The memories to fell the Tree of Knowledge
So I am strained to remember the fellowship
Of more than I could count on
To talk to My Beloved with remembrance.
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Come and talk to me then Wench!
For it has been too long without the utmost importance.
There and here have I been swayed and moved
To fathom this and that merchant
For a carriage on my breast and smelly balance in my soul.
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It is okay for you to sail on the Ocean of tragedy,
Far from the Tempest of shackled likeminded people
With their trendy shoes and open flower pots –
What would you do? Oh Hand that feeds all:
If they all suddenly turned and looked at you?
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Don’t the mentionable men get in the way first
With their posh offices and the adorned frocks.
Their days meet Your glances first
As you satisfy your Science with the Doctor of Lust.
There are only us left by the middle of the post
When the mourning is derived from who ate brown breaded talked about toast.
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There are those who go nowhere and stay together
And there are those who have somewhere to go
Even though they are alone.
Which one You choose is never so satisfied
As when I am the Asker at the end of the day.
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The Swallow greeted the Ocean during midday
While the narrative was stuck at Elevenses
For the Hobbits to find their way past the awkward time
Of brotherly Love. When will you hear what She has to say
About the nature of Nature to repeat some of the unmanly things?
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Thunder is unnatural when You are against me
I would rather face the size of waves perturbed by Dynasties
That have informed me of your Grace over the Ages
And how little I am now that I am formed.
Who created me? I do not know.
I am unknown now that You have found Me.
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The horses race but there is no victory
Because the causal realm is not decided by tape.
The rapture is empty and the perfume of the showgirl haunts
From the bystander on the Road to Hell
Who cannot find contentment in the arms of too many men.
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The Consciousness of the space hero
Is celebrated as a modern sport and trophy holder
Who can verify my experience without Crown
And has seen The Promised Land without downsizing
Too many people to smaller tasks than their allotted time with The
Maker.
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Errors cannot stop the oncoming onslaught
Time will be timid before the might of dark nights
When there is no time for sunny walks
And handsome weather with friends
And tea in the café with good talks:
For this reason God kept Death alone and talked wisely with Friends.
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University was not meant to be after the Saddhu was rejected
By the end of the world Islam who’s labels were not Nike.
The exams were not reductions
And the students were not so welcome
As harrowing voices from strange Doctors
Hearing of things that they had not focused on before.
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The blessings of a century were not enough
To heal the heart of a hungry devotee.
He had gone mistaken that the world was for charity
When he needed help from the powerful and lived with the poor.
Krishna was found speaking strangely to Radha
About his expectations and rhetoric of open door.
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There was an academic dispute in the Rajahs
Their clouds had been parted and there was commotion.
Indra was counselled and the informers were diseased
From contamination with material nature
To learn more about earth
When en route to Evolutionary heights.
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Now that I am down with the depressing Computer
The days and nights are not felt in the greenery.
Motions are so cold in the machinery
Of my darkened nights with hostile light
That speaks of terror and my removal from The Spirit.
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Some men show and some men tell
The one that I am is within.
That is the shutting out of others who dwell
In the heat of the hearty fire of family and friend
While sacrificing riches for the one Friend at the end.
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In the making of the images of self-success
Is the Dream advertised by the ruined landscape
Repeated broken fragments
Slated coloured tropes
Into the tropes of Consciousness that does not speak of Love,
Until I am felt together with my fellow Seeker.
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The young are not like me any longer;
They do not seek like I did –
Until I am with the holding of The Spirit
Who is majestic and most fearful with my Id,
And the cold hard truth of identity parades
When the Industrialists made me empty value of zero.
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Just because I am lonely
Does not mean the Dowsing is over
For the abdomen of a successful seeker
Who has balanced money with want.
The measurements are small and large
By which my appetite is satisfied:
And the model is not known by which to bring Her home again.
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Passion is not so fiery when the options are removed.
The energy is less than exciting when the chance is gone.
But the reason is energetic because of Love
And the Social Media provides ideas
That change the mood and leave me aloof
From wondering what would have happened alone.
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The past is not poetical when the youth is familial
And the innocence of wanting is linked to The Other
And how the motions of desire could meet Sport,
As well as The Feminine
To express something that in time would flower
To meet different growths and unstrange melodies.
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The fear of the loss of the Mother;
Is there anything so potent about that
When the worldliness is speaking of her Greatness
And the tides of travellers do not talk back
About the changes in time to spread her wings
And make her with The Maker and not my Son?
***********************************
Mergers and proclamations of ideas not form
Tender the realms to be inconsiderate to drawings
Of the meanderings of minds to waver wagers on weaklings,
When the strength of tried and tested men
Leans on the old hands of Politicians
Who knew of the New to wait until tomorrow.
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Forgotten are the hopes and aspirations
Towns, cities and their nations
Joinery and mergers, thinking better
About how The One could be possible
For the many to be in pursuit of
Before happening to find too many tomorrows.
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The Love that was sweetest was not beckoned.
It arrived when the shores were least trodden on
And the sands of Time were busy with regret from Explorers
Seeking and finding the tortured remains of days and nights
(In the Land of Knights) where The Beloved held strains
To keep the curtains from falling on their last Play.
********************************************
Precious used to be the domain of awareness
Where attunement was gross and causal.
Before the subtlest sinews attested to the frostiest welcome
Of Love from the Source and how it was Consciousness,
So that The Spirit was silent and not proclaimed so wisely.
*******************************************
We live in an Enlightened Age,
When the Computer pre-empts the legal page
And written on our hearts is the nuisance of the Mind
That can our closest ally touch up and find.
*********************************
Words were once lament
And the walks in the woods were something well spent
To balance down the Abyss of Knowledge from Saraswati
Sharing with caring what was not so easy.
Freedom and Love sat beside Death and Hope
Such were the tournaments of Elders to decide.
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Deception so cold that the newest thing is a fright
Where the languishing of Knowledge is up all night.
Some things are adrift on the ocean
Where the moon’s cares are half spent on temporary things,
So that blame is an imbecile’s important gathering
To know the journey of Love.
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Olympus deemed that pigeons and crows were fruitful
In their disposition on the earth to denote meaning.
So They fashioned mankind from the past
To be able to govern himself some more.
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The lakes were cold and tormented by icy edges
Where the land did not recognize the contrast.
It was here the Lady once stood with the sword in her hand
In the imagination of the fallen men
Who had deemed to frighten the Self to fancy all.
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The penmanship of the mighty
Was equal to the task of Time
And the oceans were taken to be far away
By the local man at the end of the day.
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A metaphor upon us is not a direction
The win is composed for the navigator
Of a movement that encompasses the Boddhi Tree
When Jesus was ring fenced by sheep.
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The movement is towards the meeting of ignorance
Education is the battleground of definition.
Time and space hollow the honest man for valour
When the news is pumped out each day
For the mentioning from various classes for organization.
Wild Stage 