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poetryofakuna · 10 years ago

Text

Jocelyn Elaine

smokers gather around a spectacle of fireworks, enthralled and amazed

by the vibrance and the sounds

craving ancient sacred fire and the beat of the heart drum, externalized.

we keep it contained, as if these explosives are safer than a flame within a ring of blessed stones

five minute breaks from the office granted to those addicted to their sticks aflame, lost the plot yet engaged to the game

it is not the contents of what we inhale but the time for peace of mind granted as a result of the need

bottles smashed, bits of glass and their sharpness cry out for the salt waters' softness, for our toes to meet a more forgiving texture than that which we have created

growing roses in our gardens, surrounding manicured lawns is a glimpse of the beauty we wish to be immersed in and surrounded by at all times, stopped by the fear that we are not the only predators, trim the hairs on the earth so we can find solid ground... forgetting that air and earth generally are not so abrupt to meet - they tend to merge, a gradient of tactile matter growing into the sky, separation enforced by the eyes

trained by books ..for years we build and refine our perfect disguise

concerned with what thoughts arise at the sight of us, passing time reading deeply into what is less nourishing than the very moment of what we are experiencing

excited by the elaborate and plentiful borders we built between ourselves and how great they are to look at, for then our focus pleasantly avoids what is obvious to the youth

the seeds of infinite possible truths

spending a great deal of energy on acquiring quick spurts of energy that lead us away from acknowledging our true desires, the comfort we seek is not in the bodily satiation as it may seem- but the comforting glances into another's eyes, a shoulder on which we may lean

swaddled are we - softened

feet that hunger for the truth of sensations, hidden behind synthetic boots, high heeled because we wish to walk softly like the doe... and as if to wrap seeds in many layers of plastic and keep them isolated and contained will help any garden to grow

glasses, shaded and clear

impose a lens through which we must perceive to avoid the purest source of energetic information that otherwise becomes quite evident... sunrise feeds those brave enough to want to see it - blurred vision heightens peripheral capabilities aplenty, once one does not fear it..

what limiting beliefs will you cling to today? what do they serve you beyond...familiarity?

how solid is anything in this world - particularly the certainty?

what comforts are you repetitively indulging in?

warrior spirits desire no fight

the truth becomes the flow,

removing imposed appointments-with Monday mornings looking different every time, with the concept of a Monday ceasing to exist - finding ever new ideals with

which to entertain the mind

the forgotten crucial rhythm of stargazing as the sun hides each night, witnessing the gradual spin that in our eyes and timeframes of comprehension is slow flight, so we haven't remembered our parallels - if our planet can fly, then what limits I?

the center point of intuition and will is the gut, kept full of the sugary bubbles and animal thighs at all times

busy and occupied processing the over-processed

governed by a force in disguise

who assumes that many of we are less than ready to meet a fluid life of truth ... perhaps it is so, in this lifetime only handfuls of the millions shall know... shall see their death encircling them and be unfazed

to follow the light waves we unfocus our gaze, feel the warm rays-not cast in any immediately obvious way

and in no particular place are we meant to remain forever,

it seems as though the birds know

something we tend to forget-

and so they follow the weather..

an air particle clinging to the inside of a lung becomes stale and helps no one to breathe... even unmoving trees habitually shed all of their leaves.. we've seen the still ponds

and to swim in they are no fun...

a cycle is simply movement

we've aimed to measure it at our leisure of sitting in rows of books filled with speculative thoughts mainly captured from minds of old white crooks in patterned ties and balanced upon tired unmoving thighs

craving the simplest forms of joyful movement and brain exercise

how do we stay fit? they pondered for decades, chopping down the very ecosystems which encourage it.. to write speculative off course advice on the topic, and selling it... carefully avoiding the simplest ancient way to

take a barefoot bushwalk and smell and feel and taste your landscape, once a day, and see then how you take shape... drinking waters from a stream filtered to perfection

increasing harmony and dreams

be closer to your surroundings

holistically you can afford the investment which appears daunting from a lens fogged and filled with advertised ideals, none of which feels real... encourage that inner desire

which really we all try to satiate with work, with a drive to earn... to be securely surrounded with abundance and insured that generations to come have access to more

with less strain on their brains...

sustainable wealth is a seed bank... invest your attention in the land beneath your toes,

forget your petty woes

soon it will become more evident how hard we have been trying,

creating countless aisles of manufactured sprays,

disintegrators of the finer

threads, of our quilt of creatures,

'we have no need for

the help you guys provide...

not when I have this thick wallet

glued to my side - look at all the deception I can so easily buy!'

throats of thousands are locked in self judgement and addiction to lies, we so desperately need the ancient rhythmic loud cries, the release of sound that is unregulated and unbound... our music lessons teach intricate limitation, softened, consumable expressions

measured by repetition and fear of living newly in each moment

each creative soul sees but is limited by the strict languages we have

to be able to describe;

to unfold the imagery accurately from the minds eye

if my arrangements of words and thoughts cause discomfort upon reading, or if you are looking intently without really seeing, hold no blame and feel no guilt... there is much that has been taught to us

if we choose it so, we can unlearn...

rewriting solidity as a constant flow

#Poetry #Poems #Prose #Submission

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