Tuesday, April 30, 2013
Monday, April 29, 2013
Stepping into 13 dimensional hyper cosmology and 7 levels of space to infinite skies above Saturn's rings.
The 7 centers illuminations spherical auras, incantations of the sacred 9 & 9 equation of 108 chanting pentacles in the circle of life.
Dragon lines grid the planets ring of fire, while magnetic fields remain distorted migrations flock to dying sunsets...the blood moon rises over vallies.
Saturday, April 27, 2013
Some Go Madd, others Go blind, a few commit suicide, while others Design.
In these hour's I step into the red sea...crossing by way the rings of Saturn.
Until the dawn raises the dew to glisten as light shed upon, these new creations the witching hours bred.
Liberty caps stretching out to eclipse the moon, its gills release spores into akashic winds...spreading magic touched by the breathe of the Sun...
Dresses emerge from the fields to caress the light of the sun, in search for it's host.
And somewhere out amongst the concrete and spit...rumors still causing whispers in the playgrounds.
About his silver thread, in order to fully extract the maddness, and evoke dreams into designs...
Count Mezuesta, used only the finest threads made of hair, from his own head.
And if you are ever walking in the streets of pioneer square Seattle and listen closey while the city sleeps...
You can hear his shears softly snipping carried by the winds.
Wednesday, April 24, 2013
The best way to learn is to teach...the best way in learning teaching is to feel... She spoken in Sanskrit tongues of sacred origins.
Reflecting on the self looking into the aetheric mirror ... see ing the now for what it Is. Is, is, present the dynamics of illuminant imagery we think...human.
looked back and seen nothing...leave it be the past... yet they still preach past and how do we break binds... in doing so, we may live in the presence.
Presence of self and the awareness of now, and now the question...why? Am I here.
Where am I going,
who...will I become?
I a world of spirits, feelings arise am I surrounded by illusions...illustration of heart, agony, love, war, and infinitely asking the Gods, will we ever see world peace?
The answers are...
always, and will be.
until we see the glass that is... holding the reflections in its place...
Crainium dwelling in this cave...pondering where I sit. What these thoughts become when fragments Connect to one another.
Sipping saliva off the serpants toungue yet there is no more room to fathom what is past and where does the present begin and the future end.
The future cannot end only the present so one should not look towards the doomsday, and cast a curse upon the self for falling in love with illusion.
See one inside the vesica piecies seen through pupils of the synthetic diamond as the canvas blurs into nothing the secrets of wholeness merge with the dust written on walls of Exodus.
Monday, April 22, 2013
It has been quite some time now that you have ascended back into the akashic mist, and still through the street your name can be heard. even though your not physically here your voice is still heard and many of the seeds you planted here have grown into some complex equations solved, and yet your still misunderstood even after science finally caught up to your insights.
From: mental, physical, astral, metaphysics and all you have brought into light for the new age... I still ponder why then some people still slander your name though your "theories" some of which have been proven by mainstream science years later. though you tried to merge the arts, stones are still castes through v-logs on the inter-web, and false media, conspiracies.
I have seen many oddities in my lifetime that I would have loved to have asked your interpretations; I call out in dreams, your name hoping for a glimpse into observation and always end up back at the self reflected in the eyes of others...through them you speak in tongues at times it is hard for me to decipher, and I remember the silence...softly greeting me.
How honest its voice as the glass shatters between hemispheres what really lay beyond the horizon. and I hear her voice again; "The Banshee" calling out my name once again i only see her lips move before she disappears...what was it she said to me? was she the banshee my true mother? of what planet origin was she? and when...or will she ever come back to me?
Or was she a Sylph? and was the orb that wore tentacles a companion or one from a different side? why can I not remember our conversation but the images play in my head like a movie. a silent film I try to read her lips...and I hear the Voice of Silence.
Sunday, April 21, 2013
Watching raindrops gathering on the windshield...Like stars painting the midnight skies.
I see what is above reflected in the glow, through the mist of the hevens on earth.
Surrounded by the dawn of mechanical mathmatical equations, powered by what took millions of years to create.
In her Orbit the sun witnesses forgiveness she gave and has given for the sake of evolution.
Entering the 5th element full cycle of the snake is complete...
another light year passes, Dragon lines shifting with equators all will be well.
The world isn't ending its changing being depleted by junkies of the element.
The only thing left to transform is thoughts of the people, listen to the birds story radiating from the moonlight.
Saturday, April 20, 2013
At times, feeling as if I were 1 tongue vs. 1000 ear drums...
The only thing in common is that none of them can hear me.
At times, feeling as if I am that man standing on the milkcrate..
Ranting about your sinz in the presence of God,
Dismissing my own, cause I wield the megaphone.
As the passing of 2012 World's end...
The Pope retired & there is still talks of New World Order.
A 500ton meteor misses our planet by 2700kilom-eters...
3 asteroids hit the planet, a UFO was spotted...
And you say to me...everything distasteful & bitter...
I start Drifting...
off, back into the silence.
And the only thing we have in common is that, I cant hear you...
It occurred to me later that night as I slumbered.
Why would the gods hear us out, when we don't even hear each other.
Gazing at the world from star eye level witnesses clouds caressing magnetic fields.
The map before thine eyes read;"You are Here"...
Surrounded by the masses in the same dimension in the now yet there is still so much separation.
In desperation to bring back the oneness, jets climax explosive radiation in the name of unity...
Yet all heroes are forgotten and we still praise wars in the name of Gods & Prophets...
Yet most of our pockets remain empty and children are still starving, being sold, and orphaned.
with all this "power" we the people have resolved nothing but attained reservoirs of bitter memories.
Where do lost souls go after the sounds of thunder, fire, and dark clouds fade into aether.
As all energies return to the womb of the mother, waiting upon the next fertile spirit of the father.
You are Here...So are we.
While in meditation pointing ones tounge up and into the "pool of heaven" spine is like an erect snakes body and tongue is its head.
Chin angled in 45 degrees with combonation of sinus, 3rd eye (2nd sight of the snake) and throat controlling the breathe as if. One was barely breathing.
While taking in the same amount of oxygen feels as if your breathing through your pores. Felling the same as it looks while a serpent breathing.
Unleash coils inton the circle of life an encopass the Ouroboros from within when Kundalini becomes Shakti and births creation from the depths of all roots, syphoning electric raindrops caressing ones etheric shell...
And only time will tell what is meant for now, why does its essence linger in thy presence and where is tommorrow?
I was walking in that dusty town one sumer night and watched the snowfall.
Streetlights glistening with frozen dew drops dripping a symphony in honor of the mid...night...sun.
I remember when the banshee stood like a bronze statue in the center of the hypnotic sun.
As birds harmonized with the eclipse blood red was the horizon as mars came closer to earth.
Chanting a wormhole the ancients escaped their doom...
Friday, April 19, 2013
In observation my body is the mountain and inner cosmos is the water,
thought is like a pebble or fish jumping out of the still ness causing ripples,
which distort the reflection but underneath all the movement under the veil of the ripple the water remains still,
masked by the viel of its movement above.
Yet the mountain remains calm effortlessly until the rippling ripples of...
mara comes to a complete stop to find oneness with its surrounding,
simultaneously realizing it truly is,
and never will be everything and nothing all at once untouchable like the sun.