Cerebral Tongues

I walk with the dead,
I speak in cerebral tongues...
Our god is consciousness. 

Our flesh was made of fungus,
sipped from our mothers breasts. 
These demonic play things, we tend to manifest.
Walking dead among the living,
spirits we work with protecting our being.

Simple as it was then, 
imagination in these days so...rare.
Imitation art surrounds our nations,
governed by defects blinded by stagnation.

Once we were human. 
Man, separated by machines.
Woman, separated by screens...cursed.
Divided equally the knowledge passed on to children.

L.K. Cruz P.

Exploring soul

Woke up one morning,
to decide I am no longer
a slave.

To the war,
humanity, and
the secrets of propaganda,
they hold.

Forbidden thoughts shared
via text message,
the man comes knocking on doors.

I see vision within the wax,
of polished wooden floors.
doors of the minds eye open,
traveling along it's narrow halls.

 Exploring soul,
through meditation.
bound to light without religion.

 

Tongue tied soul

Spirit Walk on
Tongue tied souls,
listening to their propaganda,
in midst of them...
immortal political agendas.

In mockery of sheep,
parade in streets lost
in streets of brand names.

Chasing the wrong dragons,
the one be sought the untamed,
in the core of its mountain sleeping. 

As they lay asleep waiting
for fires of rain that will never,
shower them in this life time.

if you choose to remain
asleep, then choose to learn
lucid...dreaming.

If you were just 1 petal of,
infinite lotuses in this dark sea
of eternal light,
painting like stars of blankets of gold.
 

This Old House

 This Old house we sit, Like a crypt of memories my bleeding heart seeping through ashes left behind by the dust of consciousness. My mind folds in complex formations ghosts and the struggles of residue left behind, reflected in the eyes bound by frames beneath the glass frozen in time.
 residue of a thousand ticks talking amongst themselves in shadows reveries seep into collective unconscious mysteries unveil tall tales of the plan.

Who?

 Have you ever wondered what you are? why you were, or even there...from where do we become. When since birth we 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

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"

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.

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

 

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.

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-

LKCP2KXIII Up and coming new book!

My Poetry book Alchemical Whispers has been doing well. if you like poetry that invokes thought then this one might be for you. i also have a Kindle Edition of Alchemical whispers availble for purchase or check out on kindle prime.

I am currently working on book four, hopefully will be ready for release soon. will keep you updated on the progress of that. here is a clip of the contents in the new book im writing now. 

"Dust off your eyelids 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 the 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 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." 

the book is a poem but also a story of a kids journey through life with a new consciousness after recieving a gift from a stranger. more to come...

 LKCP2KXIII 

Excuses

In 

the name of the gods,

how many crimes have been commited,

"justified"

by Law.

Villiages pilliaged,

it evolved into cites,

then whole nations invaded,

Cleansed by the name of our Gods?

Then one wonders why,

if the Gods are so great then why,

do we war with angels and holy beings...

as sons of man,

One starts to consider why do we worship,

the very ones we slain.

if that Power was so 

great, then why did we not

embrace the new race.

For who is not,

made of dust from all the cosmos.

One 

can see the Cosmos

from the blind zero point center of light.

Yet the journey traveled, has been long

Seeked

outside of self.

the Gods are nothing 

without Self

if
self 

is nothing withought
the gods. 

360°

in an 108°

9 sided Atmosphere

the Scryer 

stands.

LKCP2KXIII

Ring in the New Year with a free One-Week Day-by-Day Forecast!

Dear Madame Blavatsky

Dear Madame Blavatsky,


  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.

    Creativly Yours,
     LKCP2KXIII        

Earth Gazing

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.

Remember,

You are Here...So are we.

LKCP2KXIII