#fruitfulodyssey

[fruitfulodyssey]

I've abstained from

Sexual encounters

& visuals to acquire

Spiritual Stillness

In my vessel.

Raw emotion, deep yearning

engraved in the fabric of flesh

I don't despise the feeling,

But I've delayed an awakening

Authored for me.

A journey purposed

for clarity Is a need

For the depth of my soul

Desires comprehension

To articulate the intricacies

Of devotion.

.. Why swim ignorant of

The canvas that welcomes

The paint of a lover?

Isn't it foolishness

To give what is sacred

Lacking the intimate

Understanding of its value?

I cannot love beyond

The natural understanding

If the eyes that's meant

To see beyond the

veil of flesh

Fails to see the intimate

Textures intertwined

Behind the layers of skin.

On this journey I remain

To discern potent affections

In alignment with my soul.

- Journey of Discernment 1

[fruitfulodyssey]

The soul is only

An everlasting

If stretched in hopeful

Expectations of a journey

Beyond the body of flesh.

Mere mundane desires

arrest inner expressions,

For the action of satisfying

An infinite with finite fruits

Diminish the taste of potency

In the depth of the soul.

Harken onto wisdom,

For she will only heed the call

Of those who beckon on to her.

Cultivate a need intimate

Beyond bone to receive

The nectar from her lips

Endowed in spiritual journey.

[fruitfulodyssey]

Woe is the man

Who plants seed

And does not know

What he is growing

- FruitfulOdyssey (Book: Journey of Discernment)

[fruitfulodyssey]

In a time of careless touches & selfish wander,

Vandalised walls, were sacred, lay bare.

What bloomed in mornings dew,

Dulled, tamed by pilgrams unaware.

What gleamed in midnight's light

Vitiated by Insensitive meander & siphon stare

An amusement, a spectacle, a theoretical jest,

Your quivers are for game,affection mere pleasantry.

Addicted to wordplay, they are jewels in your ear.

Yet the commotion of the heart yearns the elementary.

A time meaning dripped like honey,

A season a sanctuary bled vulnerability

A day dream, a crave bitter sweet,

You've known enough, a bellowed soliloquy,

Caresses dipped in promised care, a stimulus,

A dead flame, sought an empty surrender.

A conditioned crave for adulterated intimacy,

Magnify a pallet adorned in pretense & adventure.

Relinquishing home, in pursuits of apogee,

What is Odyssey, a forsaken earnest hunger

Patience, a love deficient on your skin,

Knowing you whole, a philosophy opaque to remiss souls,

I honor you with my hands, a coveted liberation, for a canvas latent in wonder, an unrefined gold

A taboo, To enagge without conviction,

my raison dêtre, unveils the divine secrets of old.

A craftsman, a creator, an author, an artisan of sorts,

Dedicated to paint & brush, Avidity unleash its hold

A pottor graced clay, a nurtured form,

Nakedness, immorality housed in clothes, unfold.

Bewitched by curiosity & wonder,

& all its galore,

Story of anticipation, a love composed.

The tales that lay beneath skin,

an opus, a bible, a scroll, I'm eager to know.

Sunk deep in service exploring your mahogany hue.

Prune & chisel, a sculptures honest desire,

To discover life in stone, intricacies of bone&tissue.

Intrigued in details weaved, a blemished tapestry

& divulge tales untold, shielded in a flowered venue.

flesh flustered by discernment, Goosebumps

A response to heavens sagacious residue.

A devout healer, for what rests in my hands,

I'm called to nurture, effleurage, Petrissage.

Therapeutic art, a pride, a Smith,

A preserver of beauty hidden by pillage.

Exploring culture in the curves of scars,

Concealed knowledge and indomitable heritage,

A fabric, a woman, a shell of the heavens,

A palm, an embrace, my delicate clay.

- Duty of an Artisan -

[fruitfulodyssey]

Learning to observe

Myself in times of low,

Can be compromised

By immediate needs.

A work of art

Unworthy to be seen

By wandering eyes,

Because no one knows

The Demeanour, they see.

The strokes of my brush

Are interpreted based

On what the soul feels.

Yet miss to articulate

What exists in front of them.

Because the paint that clothes

The canvas holds a different

Meaning only the author

Knows.

Such details blend with

vivid colors hugging the pallet.

Nurturing a view of the horizon

In hues intimate to the one who

Orchestrated it.

How can you comprehend

what I’ve not understood

Or define in my garden

Of bloom & Odyssey.

My hour has come.

To determine the meaning

Of sacrifice when my addiction

Offer their service.

To deny myself

Of selfish satisfaction

Stealing serenity & sanity.

Staging as sovereign as if its

Some role in a grand scheme.

In my times of low

Guarding the thoughts

That breathe live

Is a necessity.

Because an idle mind

Is the devils Playground

They say.

Like a sandbox

Of trinkets dripping

In want are on display.

I'm Learning to observe

Myself in times of low,

And forgive myself

For how easy flesh succumb.

To understand patience is

Not a wish to be granted

But a daily action

Supported by the belief

"This too, shall past"

- Journey to Discernment 4

[fruitfulodyssey]

I'm aware weakness

has its cure.

I understand the

remedy takes time

to refine so

the inconsistencies

of my character

I must endure.

At times famine

embraces me sweetly

draining the strength

I need to say no.

At times, I'm abundant

like the leaves that clothes

the Amazon, nurturing

the mind to believe

Walking away always

leads to something better.

At times my garden

goes through pruning,

my vines have lost direction

avoiding what the sun exposes

to live in the shade to conceal

sin parading proudly pretending

to be promising.

Urging me to despise

change even when

It's good for me.

At times water flows

Into me like a great waterfall

pursuing the confines

of a river leading me home.

A calm that comforts

me when I notice

what growing pains

has Cultivated.

I'm inconsistent

but ever growing.

my words lacked

conviction on this journey,

but as I stumble along the way

I learn to see where I'm going.

It has been a battle

for resolve to take its place.

Despite the calluses on

my bones, stubbornness

manages to keep its reign.

Each step has transitioned

from unsure to certain.

But the acquisition of

wisdom felt like lashes,

painful, the agony blinded

me from what was being engraved.

... a lesson... an impartation

of principles needed

to articulate ones purpose.

- Journey to Discernment 3

[fruitfulodyssey]

At times courage

comes from being

at war with yourself

to break ground

for new soil to emerge.

I'm a gardener lost

in the oscillation of seasons.

This perpetual pendulum

Of personality shifts

Exposes the fraud fighting

Furiously to surface as face.

What must become

Of me if I fail to overcome

The temptation of imitations

Just to feel comfortable

In a skin needing peace

I must stretch for substance.

I can't deny,

I've become foreign in

This vessel many times.

A process of soul

reconstruction terraforming

a landscape in need of

a container.

In need of a new canvas

Desperate to draw in

All the paint expanding

the picture.

In need of a fabric

Knitted to adapt to

The growth of a sinner.

My existence is not

the same as yesterday.

Every peel unveils

The surface of my soul

Embracing a necessity

For understanding.

Every level discovered

Enlightens me,

A tedious process of

Arrogance & humility

Cultivating new wounds

Unknown to the natural mind

Frightens me.

Only a healing profound

In the spirit awakens

an atmosphere

Of forgiveness.

I now know I'm a cocoon

Of the old ways.

Will this person perish

Or persistently pursue

pleasures powerful

In pain...

On this journey I'm in need of grace

A grace Unknown

to human emotion.

Such peace sits behind

The veil knowing this endeavour

Will not leave me unscathed.

But open I may..

To usher in an identity

Belonging to me

Not subject to mere definition

But divulged through

discernment & revelation.

- Journey of Discernment 2

[fruitfulodyssey]

My days of clarity

Are time lapse pieces of art.

Its glory is short-lived

Prompting passionate pursuits

For fleeting fabrics fascinated

With leaving me longing.

Stricken with woe in

my moments of discovery,

desperation surfaces.

Walking weary with wonder

as I wander wanting wisdom

to uncover coherence.

Peace, tranquility is a high need

That eludes me.

- Need for Clarity

[fruitfulodyssey]

My afternoon canvas

glazed over into black.

The shades before,

hues in red & yellow,

Apprehended me

With quiet introspection.

An embrace inhabitant

Fragments of imagery,

a sign of yearning

for soft skin & conversation.

Patiently placing pieces

Potent in passion & promise.

Cultivating curiosity

carefully for clarity.

I needed to understand

The purpose of this appetite

Interrupting my lonely.

- interrupt my lonely

[fruitfulodyssey]

I've listened to

Lost souls confused

About where to belong.

I've wondered why they

Heeded my advice

About life,

When I was lost too.

What I've discovered is

Purpose, love & identity

Ached the heart.

But the core of it all

Was guidance.

The lack of

uncompromising

leaders have encourged

Weak wisdom,

Breaking the soul

Deeper faster

Than it mends it.

Broken Philosophies

By Broken people

Insightful, yet

We still have Broken

Minds seeking freedom.

Value comes from

Within yet the soul

Feels like it's pieces

Are scattered seeking,

collecting, Hoarding..

Anything that could

Bring it back together.

Our teachers are human,

Mistakes are in their nature.

But what should we believe

In to gain actual wisdom.

To understand intimate

Details about our existence

Not conjured up by natural

Experiences..

but something divine

That actually conceived the code

For every walk of life

And to know it

Is to know ourselves...

Know love... & know fulfilment.

[fruitfulodyssey]

I've wondered why

Beauty resided

Behind the madness.

But I've learned

With a little insanity

Clarity peaks from the clouds.

Exposing the unseen

Vividly with colours

That eludes the brain.

Tapping into frequencies

Significant to see into realms.

Emotional overdrive,

Mental ecstasy,

The senses require

A breakthrough

To see what reality

Actually is...

An illusion, a play..

A script given

Until its noticed

You'll believe sanity

Is sane..

When loosing your mind

Is the key to peek behind the veil.

- the veil

[fruitfulodyssey]

I laid in bed

Drifting on an ocean

Of thoughts.

Vast they were,

Deep they were,

I anticipated if I drowned

What would come of me.

Would beauty be the words

To articulate my madness.

Would sad be the expression

To convey my joy.

To be lost in perpetual waves

Of discovery breaks

What's already broken

A soul in need of stability.

A soul in need of rest.

- Rest

[fruitfulodyssey]

We've lived under buried stars,

The night sky is just a grave yard.

We found beauty in their fading flickers,

But finding it in us is hard.

In our eyes unappreciated poetry

Held our deepest scars.

We never looked at them,

Just tamed them in tinted jars.

Hoping what would emerge

Would be butterflies.

Illustrating a passage of time,

When we healed from our disguise.

Yearning for different Versions of ourselves,

But trapped in the image engraved in our eyes.

I cannot dispise the vessel

Where love poured pure.

But I question myself,

A canvas battered and torn.

I was told it was an art form,

To be shattered untill

I can paint the world.

I have enough to fill the ocean

But I've given up such expressions.

Instead I appreciate the season we lived,

The sculptures we made, and paintings we hid.

The stories written in code,

Only we could interpret.

The atmosphere we created,

Which would be wrong to duplicate.

We should not look for

each other in someone else.

Because there is always new advanture

To discover in different realms.

Why hurt a lover fascinated with your soul,

Fully invested in your language to know you whole.

Because he isn’t me, or she isn’t you? No

Every book has its beauty

once you're entralled.

Be present and peek into their eyes

With conviction to bare fruit and all.

I promise even though buried stars flicker,

Behind the veil where they came is a light.

We didnt find beauty in our night sky,

It doesn't mean the flame of love won't blaze again in your eyes.

It Will Blaze Again

© fruitfulodyssey

https://writco.in/Poem/P12109262023022652

[fruitfulodyssey]

A ponder, an abyss of careless curiosity,

Yet the reason for this willful wonder eludes me

Elusion

- @fruitfulodyssey

[fruitfulodyssey]

Fainted Breaths: She's Cold

On her lips,

Unheard realms press

In anguish along the border.

Hoarding words

Prone to linger on the surface

Victims to self imposed shackles,

She's cold.

Unable to relinquish

What's intimate with her soul

Her lips like refined wine,

Ravishing in all its splendor,

Dulled by un-sheathed blades

Of unspoken expressions,

She's cold.

Check out more Poem on Writco by fruitfulodyssey

https://writco.in/Poem/P89502222024033737

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[fruitfulodyssey]

If I wrote anymore stories just for your soul, would you know? would you take your time to taste the fruits squeezed delicately just for you? would you soak in all its glory just to realise this atmosphere was breathed just for you? would you digest every nurturing word, dipped in remedial elixirs just to discover they heal you? would you linger a little longer on each page, savor the emotions evoked and praise the fire and vulnerability it allows you to share, just to believe in yourself again? would you swim a little slower, dive a little deeper to find the treasure within the mind that cherishes your move, and in enthralled by every syllable and breath produced by you? would you finally see yourself for the first time and love all that is you? would you smile at your special parts, eager to discuss which lines soothes you? which Verses touches beyond your skin to find you..

If I wrote anymore stories just for your soul, would you know?

You......

© fruitfulodyssey