Monday, December 8, 2014

Akashic Ocean


Dust off your eyelids young Scryer and awake from the blind slumber you have been

spellbound...see through the eyes of the hollow moon, before she was driven into our

solar system. Without her shadow there would have not been life, dew forms as the sun

goes down, while Lilith tells stories to her grandchildren. Minds wander intoxicated

by the scent of the Nile lucid dreaming about reality and the day of the great pyramids

generating the grid of dragon lines before they shifted... the time has come to illuminate

your center and become the sun of your own galaxy. Surf the unthreaded sands of

the unconscious landscape, and touch the purest untouched darkness and the clearest

light...awaken...you are here... awaken. Allowing my thoughts to keep on drifting into the

Akashic Ocean as the waves carry stories back to the shores of Gaia's auric skin absorbed

by the local star gazing eyes. Those who must siege mercy, ultimately in the end are

never the victors. Following the history of all the conquering empires of the world those

who hold the ancient knowledge of which they had kept secret. Until discoveries of UN

discovered tribes of the worlds emerged and shared that same ancient knowledge that

is Un written and spoken through the Akashic skies heard by the ones who listen to the

birds, to the winds, and hear the earth’s songs. In the times of thinkers and ascended

masters ... they too were labeled terrorist and their words were their bomb threats that

had such an impact, it birthed a thousand stories that have survived for millennia... even

till this day. Some scribed, others by mouth to ear for countless generations. Some of

these stories we know as today’s religions & myths all started by observation of the skies

constellations trying to find the map home. And why we were taught to fear love and the

all loving one creation of creators, as our blood fertilizes the spell that has been cast upon

us, bound by matter majik since the birth of the priesthood to erase the star origins of our

linked pasts with the ancient ones from the times of awakened portals.

 Dust falls from the akashic cosmos to awaken all from the slumber 7 stars, 7 levels, 13

points unbinds the chaotic ties of this twisted web of matter that had been spun; which

we are taught to know as life. Deep breaths reversing my inner polarity through pranic

breathing, I walk on air weightless like magnets repelling its own elements inside its

merkabah defying the laws of gravity unlocking the mysteries of levitation.

 Surrounded by jellyfish swimming above the desert floor wandering in search of the

birds’ songs about life. Listening to my heart beating freely in my chest; feeling my

breath harnessing in solar plexus on inhales, and exiting through my 3rd eye upon exhale,

seeing my eyes reflected in the eyes of infinity falling deeper into the self approaching

the ultimate design of the lucid dreamer. I see the eyes of seraphim asking us listen to

the blind clouds speak of the rain descending to earth like fallen angels. Flowers blossom

under the midnight sun, as the elfin child embraces stone of the solar-seed Gaia-sphere

with the knowledge of 13 skull consciousness, mandalas passed through bloodlines shape

shifting through minds eyes awaken within digital seraphim, tongue twisted beings of

Hollywood mind controlled by crown jewels.

 One thought led to another, the first of those which decades later added to the lexicon

that orchestrates the call of madness. In our Order of chaos, what will you ask of destiny

if you do not even know your true name? What happened on that day you fell through

the mirror...to think how many thoughts had gathered at the Bon fire questioning the

unanswered questions of silence? The Ssss-silence-eee...it was all quiet in all our minds

all at once feeling of tranquility the rebirth of a star born in the stillness of dark brilliance

radiating light. Hearing nothing but my own heartbeat and feeling of my true form as I

am of the ultimate breathe. As many times before we resonate as breathe giving life as we

take life becoming the next unfolding infinite space lost in the womb of eternity.

 Enjoying the first full moon through fluorite eyes, blowing soft-spoken whispers in

the winds. Stories of Gaia flowing from the serpents tongue, Lilith gazes upon the

intoxicated glass re discovering the magnetic fields manipulating polarity soaring high

above the Milky Way. Hiking through the rings of Saturn surfing Akashic records in

search of nothing more than the bliss of silence that remains impenetrable.

The illusion stands still... breathing life into all beings that walk on its concept of

time...and for what purpose does one look for so many miles outside the self, asked the

spirit of the earth. The light of the two suns will awaken lapis skies. Undines scry oil

spills, visions flow like clock work as the galactic eclipse is forming, deflecting chaos of

the second coming of Nibiru Star seeds stepping into the dawn of Aether remembering

the senses drifting on silver thread off into the distance the battle will not take place

externally.

Friday, November 14, 2014

Spange

 There standing still. Witness the birth of wretchedness of "awareness". It was much easier in times of "blessed" or as it were. Some soothsay about the dooms day, but we have the ability to manifest much more than required. 

 When do ghosts die, is there life after life? When the blind seeds go fourths we reaped what we sown. The blood spilled for madness or holiness or which is the lesser of two evils? To convince through torturous repent threats, to keep on living. Or the madness from the love of one true God that seems to be driven into the core of hour system that binds us to hands of time. 

 A mother dies to save a family of sinners, as a soldier dies at the mercy of wars, they shed blood we shed tears like stars evaporating into blankets of night. Yet our spirits seem to shine no matter how inflicted the median.  A man hung from the Oak tree. He invoked the spirit of wisdoms he travelled far from the other side. Between worlds, a thin line wrapped in consciousness. 

 And now in this digital age, I do accept tips of digital currency 😉 biTcoIn to 1PTD1LUW6ugygzwcghFogVJufq6YfCZtoz Or Doge coin too - DJVnaWwHqWMuw5EZifkqGTzf8ucKBsX7cu  


Wednesday, October 8, 2014

Insomniax Doktrine Vol. 1

Essence of Mercy 

Taking big steps, strides turn to dust. The ashes carry the voices into the atmosphere. That woman in the white gown with star like eyes, breathless. Drowning in her sublime vision, windy dreamlike state trying to capture a breath. The godess like silouhettes gleam in the pouring rain. Her beauty fish eyed through the lens of the raindrops, caught in the moon light standing still...was about to utter a word but, was left breathless. With beauty like this, none dare approach, orthostatic off in the distance lost in awe. This awe is niether lust nor love, pure blissful, visualization admiration of another being. Like the feeling of two hearts synchronizing the magnetic field of life, suspending the mother in space. Interlaced with bio-galvanizing dimensions of grids beyond the minds eye. Light is seen, as a whole new spectrum emerges. The dawn of a new age has come, eyes closed, ashes settle. Starring at her own reflection, lost in the puddles.


Buy eBook

Saturday, October 4, 2014

Who?

 Have you ever wondered what you are? why you were, or even there...from where do we become. If we since birth are taught to fear, ones own reflection. I walked outside for the first time in 10 years yesterday and it felt like astral projection but tell me why I walk by all neighbors in silence. Yet here we are left wondering why it is much easier to hold a conversation in the grocery store, with a complete stranger via mobile...serene.

 What is this toxic stench in the air that surrounds my being like second hand smoke stacks of boiling cabbage. I seen a Opossum flip its stomach inside out as children hung upside down from monkey bars swinging...back and fourth singing. While we spun on the Mary-go-Round, hailing scriptures raising road kill from the depths of the heavens.

 Call fourth the birds from 9 hells pitiless ens-amble... Sounds of the crypts Apocalypse soothed from lips of our leader, Thoughtless children shed no tears living amongst the living, walking with the dead. She rode a seahorse into the sunset and whispered to the trees her fantasy of making love to sea turtles. And you ask me again. Who are you? I have no answer to something I cannot even fathom.

http://lostrefugees.blogspot.com

Wednesday, October 1, 2014

Song

If I could write a song that would make Peace real,
Then I would write that piece for you,
To Sing.
To bring happiness to children's heart's...
and Tears of joy...to their eyes.

If I could write Lyrics, to Turn your Fears, 
into...
Madness, To compose,
 Who...are...you?
Does it depend,
          on which Looking glass we sit?
Since way back when we have always been,
                         Mad here.

 Sipping on another Cup of Tea,
Hearts bleed, for the voiceless...
How do they scream, Pondering...
but are we even listening?

 Twin Suns Rise fifteen minutes Apart,
And set at the same time,
 on the opposite sides of the planet...
Eclipse the equinox descents of stardust.

 Mimic the solar system,
as we grow lost in thought,
when All...
was once clearer.

We turned off the radios that only,
Played the same 5 songs...
and Turned up the Silence.

Which was then the only Song that made sense...
The only sound which knows,
                                                   "Peace"



Tuesday, September 30, 2014

Sleep Walkers

 Sleep walk into the slumber, Hive sleeps the brood soothsayer Mephistopheles meditates on shores of the Columbia river. Sipping from the eternal rain ship wrecked debris of sacred. Scribed ruins on elder Oaks, they guard this sacred land. Sworn to Oath in its misery' we shan't remain silent. Tweaked out of minds, out of body experience we merge as one voice to get nothing done once again, we pray to our lord Procrastination. Then one day 9 years later you seam to be struck by sunlight through a different dew drop lens televised intelligence and the roots remain pure as sacred flesh of Liberty. When we awoke midsummer eve deep in the land of fairies, we rode panthers in-search of blue rings. Once that was found what we once seek, wisdom's passed down turn to ash in the records of knowledge...back into the slumber we are all sleepwalkers.

Tuesday, September 16, 2014

Torn

Torn between lies, journalistic mafia media hype your Wars are my Freedoms. Free from pieces of mind scattered by opinions. 

We shared tears, we shared laughter, we shared your misery yet it still feels like your being raped, while "living the good life".

Why raise taxes, and not awareness, to questions? 

By the people for the people once had minions, obey the dying breathes of demons as skeletons remain locked in plasma screens. 

As we are left to ponder in demise of all this confusion, seeking truth on YouTube as a substitute to the madness we are left with the hordes who Shepherd Foxes... 

LKCP2KXIV

Tuesday, September 9, 2014

Snowflake

Is it poison?
or just a flame.
Coursing through veins,
feeling
it
crawling
out from within.

Like shards of snowflakes,
frost bitten

within hollow glass tubes.
A puff of smoke may...

turn inner demons.

A
Labyrinth, 
some say.

Thoughts create their own
     book of shadows.

They speak,
Shh...the Silent Tongues

pages

into the depths..
go
These explorers.

They seek the...
Alchemical Whispers of
Insomniax Doktrine,

For it holds no wisdom.

Echos of shattered truths.

Eternal, we wander...
in search of wonders.

Unearthed.

Captured,

within it's pages.

Saturday, September 6, 2014

1 million thoughts...

 One million thoughts drowned the megalithic crown that ruled the land of linguistics. Text message terrorists confused the youth of it's language. They began to loose art of conversation while trapped in digital worlds, of light and vibration. Whats the use of vocal cords when you can read and try to emulate emotion through letters on a small screen. a customized tone for the bell, toning sanctuary a reminder that we are not in misery.

 We spent decades trying to master the art of telepathy just to be distracted by cell phonic frequency, but we remain a glitched freak in the system. Trying to find methods of communication with inhabitants, consumed by holy spirits. The answers are sealed within relics and pigments from centuries old when once one finds the essence of word is no longer bold.

 When true emotions get lost in translation text messages fail to convey ripples of silence,
 broken by ring tones.

Tuesday, September 2, 2014

Cyclops that dwells deep within

Eyes flutter back into my head.
my skull crumbles into shattered pieces,
shards glare in eternal light,
my knees collapse like twin towers.

Another child born in a cardboard box,
Pondering why is trashitarianism,
is a new fad, or just a new way to starve her people.

Just another yellow brick in the road,
chanting we built this city on rock and roll,
for the other bricks in the wall.

I would shout as loud as I could,
if I thought it mattered, You agreed
so we shouted together just to watch,
the earth stand still.

We sit and spin more webs of souls,
bound together woven in blood and bone.

DNA,
scribes the thresh hold.
forgotten names we are never told.

When we wake in the deep, deep, sleep.
The whole story unfolds, nor questions nor answers,
nor glories, nor faith...will compare to its blissfull
blindness...to be forgiven, knowing there is nothing to forgive.

When we awaken this Cyclops that dwells deep within us all...

LKCP2KXIV


Monday, September 1, 2014

Selfie

Am I dreaming?
Or sleep walking into madness which sees no end.
Descend from the heavens thoughts seemingly to sink deep into the earth,
insanity seems to be a part of the ascent.
Walk backwards into history repeat itself beyond doorways...
Beyond the finger tip lies a self, its mind hidden deep in caverns holding secrets, flowers grow, we observe silent wings flashing in night skies.
Why are you me, am I even true to myself muzzled by the gloom foot steps echoing the past as we wander into the present state of presence.
Wind chimes fertilize destinies purity of soul when all else has been forgotten.
Mocking which can not be seen, is like praising gods that answer no prayers.
Dwell in the bellows.
Remember.
self.





Sandles

 Slipped on my shoes into another dimension, where does the sidewalk end... Mind bending events unfold throughout transparent mysteries.
 We have seen the doktrine possess self bound within its pages crept,
silently awaken from shutter-less slumber.
 The Ironies we seek and blind to all its answers we never question authority.
 The only sanity left is the rancid world we still churn to this day praying for a day the ocean is no longer flammable.

 One by one the cards lay out on the table. I, DE, Claire, war.
 The church which was once a symbol of sanctuary is now a Trojan horse,
as dictators recite verses from the Reganomicon.
 Burnt, Hung, Drowned, and Tortured the witches spell its new age.
 Resurrection grim-ores of this new Wisdom while others call it madness...

 the journey through 9 hells.

 LKCP

 

Saturday, August 30, 2014

My Sands

I once whispered words to a grain of sand, it multiplied into a vast sea of sand which later became an ocean floor.

they never wrote books about me and credited these feats, to myths and gods.

unattached to the fable, I brush the facts off my shoulders for it brings joy to see all the people enjoying what I had left for them.

Please stop polluting the water which houses my sand that you play on, and craft into glass.

LKCP2KXIV

Tuesday, July 15, 2014

I too, Hermit.

I too.
    a
Hermit,
wandering this,
holographic
forest.
Illusions.
fire walk,
with me.
on
galactic,
twin peaks...

She speaks,
in
immortal tongue.
twisters.
vibration.
they raise,
dead
and
dying.
Awakening,

dormant.
emotions.
call upon,
inner demons.

Heretic.
please.
speak up.
on.
the
soap box.
for which...
you stand.

Heathens,
he preached.
condemned.
they all.
damned.
preyed,
on feeble minds.

I.
grazed.
on the...
Dead's
citric wisdom.

engaged,
stigmatic aura
crystal...
dwellings.
on dragon lines.

we shifted.

yet.
grains
of time.

remain still.

Sunday, July 6, 2014

Love = Fear?

I sometimes feel the most feared, thing on this planet is Love. for the fear of a broken heart. They tried to unite nations through Love of religion and it brought tears of blood and sacrifice forced into devotion in the name of Love. The only way at this rate to know peace is to take all books out of the equation. Maybe to "leave God out of this" foolishness. Its so hard to find Love, yet its so easy to start debates in "Gods" name in the name of Love. And they question why the youth do not seek out shelter of the church or show any devotion in the name of this Love. The Love that is associated with red, red hearts made from pools of blood that blindfold our ties.

                                                                "Curiouser and curiouser..."
                                                                                                         ~ Alice

 "Do not believe in anything simply because you have heard it. Do not believe in anything simply because it is spoken and rumored by many. Do not believe in anything simply because it is found written in your religious books. Do not believe in anything merely on the authority of your teachers and elders. Do not believe in traditions because they have been handed down for many generations. But after observation and analysis, when you find that anything agrees with reason and is conducive to the good and benefit of one and all, then accept it and live up to it."
                                                                                                           ~ Buddha

Monday, June 9, 2014

Sometimes

Sometimes, I don't know wrong from right, Left from tears. One mind torn into pieces. scattered across the landscape. They prayed. I felt like all my marbles were lost or stolen. fragmented in a piece of paper, secretly I hide underneath my tongue. I have seen beyond the lands of demons, and seen through gates of heavens. yet the truth still remains true to only the believer, if one is of its own blood a seeker. My teacher once told me. the true teacher is your heart. yet it is the most difficult, to master. but if you can learn the art of hearing each other, the teacher and student as One. become a master. only then will the ears, be ready to hear the cosmic organs. strumming from the heavens.

Monday, May 12, 2014

Just

Contemplating surrender thoughts to silence, I ponder past seeing visions of presence. The mirror presents itself in my current States of mind, being heart one with soul. Preserverance through tests of times as enemies become allies as their voices carry throughout the silence.

Shatter all memoirs of ill intent others bestowing to cast away what light is left of a wick that holds no wax to bind its' light. But for that brief second...it seems as if the ignites raw illumination.

Once blinded by the hands of time whispered nothings, to hold onto false hope, or what leads a man or woman to believe truth is the path of the wicked.

Salvation is nothing but a dream for the dweller, smelted within the glasses of helter-skelter, to seek beyond pillars, as All answers eminence from the beating sutra of the heart.

see the purity of my sons eyes and it reminds me of us all, so innocently blind of ourselves hidden behind the self. Accused of sleep walking, I am a self proclaimed sleepwalker living the dream.

Through humility a new found humbleness awakening from the nothing that shelters itself from the paths, or was it one for All?

LKCP2kXiV

Wednesday, April 9, 2014

Speak

 Feeling the breathe of her wings on his face, she gives him strength when his vibration is weak,telepathically she speaks with angels. Whispering to demons in silent tongues, they voyage into the abyss beyond the pillars as the watchers watch from thirteen directions. One hundred and eight demigods chant magnetic  language bending dragon lines in time space continuum.

 Prophets scribe instruction to sages from papyrus to stone walls formulas of wormholes to land beyond minds. As time goes on the seventh race has written a new chapter for the new blood that has been sent to cleanse the plagued lands of tainted dominions.

 And this war they spoke of was in the self at the dawn of betrayal, when the shadow eclipsed the center of the sun. Now here we stand confronting our own shadow in its light to define its own definitions.

 On being Human.

   -LKCP2KXIV-

Tuesday, February 11, 2014

Lucid Living

I was once a dreamer, who wanted to live the dream, until I found it easier to be the dreamer lucidly living... as reality unfolds itself before my eyes, realizing thoughts become creation if given the time.

Time though, is never given, and one must fight for what has been taken, for what is the price of true freedom? we are crafted to be slaves of self, looking outside wiindows to be free from doors without locks, blinded by keys without a purpose.

In this World of dreams no one dares to sacrifice. but they look up to it an worship a price that is greater than any self. To wake in a cloud of wisdom is to rain knowlege onto the world of dreams and fertalize the living who dwell on its dimensions.

Some say 3D, some Say 5D but the truth of nothing is Limitless...
as it were, Infinity

LKCP2KXIV

Saturday, February 1, 2014

Life's Dance

Necromancy dancing amongst the spirits of ancient, wonders, in present days. Wandering into the skies eternal abyss opens blind minds awake into a world beyond theory. 

Non physical, etheric, nor quantum. One who seeks fathoms, and the spirits are always watching. Frequencies boundless connected to One is to be All, or self as it was. In a land before time there was thought, birthing creation. 

Yesterday fades into transparent seductions illusionary minions of tainted minds. The digital fox brings bad news, as life flourishes through toxic myst. Somewhere beneath the ice a city rests. Preserved from ages waiting discovery of her majesty. 

They sip nectar from bitter tongues, housing alliance of wonders. Blind folded imagination waits in darkness, crying out, can you hear me? as ears fell to the ground, and the Silence was finally heard. 

LKCP2KXIII