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"

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.

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

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

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.

Insomniax Doktrine Vol. 1

first book i had written http://www.amazon.com/Insomniax-Doktrine-Lance-Cruz-Phromnopavong/dp/1257070576

Atoms Split

When a
thought dropped,
words caressed
the page in scriptures,
atoms split while
mending simultaneously.

conflicted
is he
in the eyes of the one,
the center
is the
furthest point
of self yet,
lay so near,
the serpent slumbers
beneath the sun.

Cranium, ponders Will.
will I be the
snake charmer
and call fourth,
divine powers
of the Shakti,
and dance within
self of inner space,
or remain among the
walking dead,
Searching for what
is already there.

Hidden beneath
the solar rays,
inverted beside the vortexes,
silently humming...
Galactic drums sound
can only be heard in
the silence.

LKCP2KXIII

Yearbook

Shhh,
listen to time.
floating in space.
during the hours of night.
under the moon into the sun.
the planets danced one by one.
year after year, centuries, if not decades.

The wise would gather and observe celestial dance.
while others would worship and dance in trance.
while others would harvest and harness thier powers.

always will there be the ones who know,
always will there be the one who don't.
always darkness there will be,
as always the light continues to grow.

Do what you will do what you must,
find knowlege of self.
this you must trust.

For my yearbook says,
from a past life, beyond.
"when all the rest are dead and gone,
1993 will still rock on"...


LKCP2KXIII

Dreams Agenda

Our world, so advanced yet some how we are not Civil-ly evolved. We had a deep rooted esoteric foundation, a modern infrastructure yet, we still act like we are from barbaric times.

Here we thought to have established democracy...yet our leaders seem to act out as monarchy.

What example have we set fourth for our youth in these last generations...how much further would our space travel technology be if we spent less time destroying each other for a knowledge that should be shared.

If the gods spoke to us as they did would there still be a need for blood, as advanced as we are today...or as we should be.

Already some have chosen the path of the microchip...but to me to become part machine is not the organic evolution of the human matter.

cell phones are like primitive versions of, telepathy. An alien whispered through the eclipse and asked the world forgivness.

Vexed in a world wind of restless thought, I see clutters of visions left in a world of broken dreams, fight over who knows god most?

I find it intriguing yet hard to believe that it only has to do with religion. We see the outcome when one seeks mystery...burnt at the stake.

This poverty can be erased if we took our explosive, devices set them aside...and made more devices for growing food sources in droughted countries.

Use that money to find ways to purify our oceans...how many more messes will we leave for our children to clean.

One day we will realize that all of our technology combined can make great instruments of mass_ ive healing...

And then my alam clock rang, third eye closes eyes awakened, I pondered, were it sweat our a trailing tear running into the myst.

LKCP2KXIII

aka L.K. Cruz P.

The Dream

Silently running on the blacktop, 

smell of gritty freshness of tar,

I am dreaming...

i feel a shift of energy in my abdomen,

and 

my legs start to lift off the ground,

fingers turned in to feathers, my feet became claws of an owl.

through the night skies Silently, 

I crept,

upon Landing my 

feathers started to disapear and my body, 

returned to normal.

 

 

LKCP2KXIII

 

Moonlight Tears

Drenched in thought eyes wince away the light of darkness.

Whispering winds caress the empty space that knows no boundary.

Intelligent brushes paint pictures of an unexplored landscapes.

As the canvas remains blank starring into the mirror.

Waiting to catch its own reflection in the stillness of water.

Tears of the moon fall into the ocean trying to capture the moment.

LKCP2KXIII