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...Ride the horse...   
03:06pm 17/04/2013
  Left is the path of acceptance;
Right, the path of force.
I walk the middle,
Seeking no voice.
Left is the path of the entrance.
Right, driving the course.
I tend to diddle,
Avoiding choice.

Now is the time for me to shout!
To mount my own horse,
To put away doubt,
Blind eyes, rejoice.
The roots in my soul must be rout,
to the very source.
Beat out with a knout,
Which I can endorse.

I ride to the right,
No longer in flight,
Destiny; fallacy.
No incongruity.

I arrive, implicit.
The past is only shit.
Dung good for lighting fires.
Warmth to make me commit
To merit the licit.

Cantor, I ride the horse.

-I'm spent.
 
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...Sigh in the wind...   
03:14pm 21/03/2013
  Seed.
Whisper, barest of breath.
A sigh in the wind,
Softly voiced in my ear.
Building and swirling,
My world began turning.
I fear for my own death
As air intertwined,
Mouth to mouth; new frontier.
My soul left hurling
Was left with such yearning.
Cold becomes warm.
Winter becomes spring.
With that, I take wing.
Able to transcend,
Able to transform.
I now want to sing,
Embraced in the swing
Of the breeze; my friend.
Able to affirm
That a zephyr may pass
But love never leaves you,
Swaying as the leafs do.
Helpless and aghast,
You end planted in grass.
Love is as the wind.
You can't help but bend.
Creed.


I'm spent.
 
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...Something to eat...   
05:49pm 06/03/2013
  Function in truth.
I feed off you, take you into me.
Sustenance of the body.
I cannot but take myself into thee.
All of your holes
Are pathways into the seat of you.
It's nothing if not naughty.
Every time we bind, it's something new.
Give me that seat
Give it tonight.
Something to eat.
Don't give a fight.
You wont be sorry.
End of the story.

I am spent.
 
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...Our river echoes...   
05:01pm 06/03/2013
  What I want, curves and edges,
Cascading like a waterfall
From a great height,
Pushing me to the very ground;
Pounding me in an endless stream.
I push myself up against
The flow of your fluid body.
Waters mixing.
Saturation, so absolute.
Pouring into me, I'm lost.
I lose the sense to be one.
I become two.
I mix with your swirling soul.
As water, we combine.
As such, we intertwine.
Colliding wet vessels.
The aspect is of love.
Our bodies become vestige;
Our past remembrances break off,
Silt to the surge.
We scream as our river echoes
Our song out to the universe.
Perfect and true.
We sing a song unheard before.
We become solid; wash ashore.

I'm spent.
 
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....Two small specks....   
02:11pm 05/03/2013
  Speck, little fish swimming in a pond.
Round and round, I grew tired
Of the overbearing limitation.
Wishing to be free, I grew legs.
Crawling out of the water, freedom
Loomed in front of me. Unbound.
I wandered the world seeking my own self.
Finding myself, I grew my wings.
Soaring around the earth, I found thee.
Round about, the pond I sought.
I needed naught but look front to the face.
Our swelling hearts where forsworn.
Two fish swimming in a pond.
Oh, how simple it should be.
Where I started, shall I end,
I have found my home again.
Here I will stay,
Swimming all day.
Specks, two small fish swimming in a pond.

I'm spent
 
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...self respect...   
12:23pm 01/03/2013
 
mood: blah
Condescending, is it such an ugly word?
A patronizing decent from dignity.
Such is the defined word.
A thought, however, from me.
Dignity speaks of self respect.
Dignity speaks of self elevation.
Dignity speaks of worthiness.
To condescend actually means
To put aside one's dignity.
To stoop below superiority.
Voluntarily.
To be called condescending,
Is a man to be hurt by that?
Not in my book.
To be condescending is to be human.
Not to be is to hold yourself higher.
To rule over others.
Dignity is the worse word.
Just keep that in mind
when you call me condescending.

I am spent.
 
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...Two hundred acre lot...   
11:39am 01/03/2013
  Two hundred acre lot.
I go through this before you wake up.
Concession is not the correct word.
It is a word I cannot reach.
It's beyond my comprehension.
We hold hands.
We're intertwined,
And, that which we find is so sweet.
Your heart and mine are simply as one.
The beats of such a union
Cannot simply so be undone.
In sequence.
Oh, so simple.
We correct each other,
Seek thought though the Mother,
And all is not for naught.
Freedom.

I am spent.
 
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...Fish who fucks....   
12:31am 28/02/2013
  Arguments blossom from the nothing.
To submit to them is red,
Hiding behind a veil.
Acceptance is held in the third eye.
Quiet the voice in yourself.
Listen, you'll understand.


Nothing you say shall sway me. Nothing you say will slay me. Try, try, try. The end result will be the same. I am Guppy, the fish who fucks. Fuck in my waters, or get out of the pool.
I am spent.
 
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...Aloof Icon...   
03:56pm 26/02/2013
  I am the Aloof Icon, born to a swarm of flies
Who seek to find subsistence by the perspiration of my soul.
Drinking deep and following me in a cloud.
Leading me to a false sense of responsibility.
I cannot lead the flies to a point
Of drinking me to destruction,
Though part of the Mother demands it,
In a sea of harsh sand and expectation.
Their desire lies in their own selves.
Followed, I become the drifter,
Fleeing, when once I was the protector,
Defending the Mother against a Father's force.
Carried by the wind of Kali's breath,
I sought out destruction.
Self preservation thrown aside.
Wide eyes upturned, I followed.
Shunned the whole of possibility.
Headless, I was free of such thought.
I am the flesh of Parvati,
Heat of the womb and regenerative energy,
Mother of all others,
Seeking from stubbornness a new head.
A head demanded by the exit of obstruction.
A head I missed when body was without.
Lopped from me, the old soon fell away;
And left me to seek a new way.
I only became free from the removal of my own top.
Shiva, Iconoclast, I thank you, father.
I barred you're way as I did to so many others.
A difference born of my own thought;
And a consequence born from violence.
Confliction, Destruction, and Rebirth.
Mother's other aspect.
And, as is Mother, you are also rejuvenation.
In rebirth, I climbed the placid mountain.
The shrew accompanied me,
Nearly blind, but of a mind.
During our journey he spoke to me,
As only a true friend can.
"Desire," he said, "and to be less selfish
Must be be bound into one thought.
That thought must hold you.
It must be a constant;
And, you must use your new head to hold it."
Wise friend, you help mend me;
Even as mother sewing on the peak of my understanding.
With your help I can find value in flaws.
To help dislodge encumbrances in the ventricles of others.
To help with their own flow.
I hold my own broken tusk.
I remove my own obstacles.
I earn my new head.
In doing so, I help the flies.
The constant buzz becomes a flutter.
The flutter becomes a perpetual sound to my new ears.
Butterflies, as they should be.
I find my way, as do they.
We all travel the path, separate but together.
Aloof again, because we all find the way.

I'm spent.
 
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...Still bleeding...   
04:25pm 21/02/2013
  Fist balled and finding contact.
Smack of flesh against flesh.
Bones crunching.
Nothing is in my Head.
The rest left me swinging.
bones chrunching.
Anger left me alone.
I regret.
I hold on.
Is he still bleeding?
What am I needing?
At least I have my jacket.

I am spent.
 
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...Leave the beach...   
04:51pm 20/02/2013
  I left my soul down by the sea.
Slow and steady, it left me.
Pulled by the lolling motion
Of the deep blue.
Goodbye, dear friend.
So long to you.
My heart sang to the loss,
a deep lowing in my throat,
Creating in me
A terrible frost.
An evil curse.
Floating away, my soul,
Carried by the ocean,
Came to find a place
To Reside.
Just for a little while.
Held in the embrace of Mother.
Warmed and reinforced,
Then let go to be free.
It then left to float the sea.
Succumbed to circular motions,
My being opened an eye.
Explosive imagination erupted.
The bang of such a surge
gave reason to my urge
to let go of myself,
yet also to return.
My soul began to swim.
To rise above a tide.
A tide of tedious thinking.
The tide of ruinous thought.
To avoid being bought.
My soul sought my body.
The body that sat by the sea.
That which you love must be set free.
Love thyself; well, I came back to me.
No harm in that.
The journey my soul left upon
has only left us stronger.
We survive.
We are better for our separation.
Whole once again,
We can leave the beach.

I'm sent.
 
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...in the face of the toad...   
11:10pm 19/02/2013
  I am in the face of the toad.
Unearthed and gasping for air.
He buried himself,
I freed him.
In sand and dirt entombed.
Past the grime and alive again,
He welcomed me to a message.
"No doubt and no fear", he said.
"There is nothing wrong with burying one's
own self...so long as you intend
to dig yourself free."
I thought on this then asked,
"Why did you bury yourself in the first place?"
Large amphibian eyes studied mine for a moment.
After, the toad said
"I am animal. I am basic,
so I hide myself from the world,
lest I be devoured.
I hide myself to be my own."
"But how can you own yourself while hiding?"
I innocently ask.
Wisely, he responds
"To withhold one's self from the culture
one was raised in is no sorry thing,
but to believe for currency is fallacy.
I hide for consistent existence,
You hide for acceptance.
The difference is I hide for myself."
"But why?" I ask the toad, and
"Why hide at all?
The toad takes a moment.
Round eyes blink.
"Can you not find out for yourself?"
he responds.
I think, I blink, and I moan.
"I only hide for me."
"Exactly. Move on."
And I do.
The toad hops.
My heart stops.
We go in our own directions.

I'm spent.
 
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...paragon...   
09:33pm 19/02/2013
  Continue.
You speak and I listen.
Over the shoulder,
I can feel the understated thought.
I hear, and I understand.
God loves his children, divide,
Just open to me,
Wide and willing.
The darkness
Takes me below myself.
Over the shoulder.
The nothing pulls me into nothing.
But I'm strong enough to push;
To shove against that grain.; arise;
Phoenix from the ash.
I'm a paragon.
Brand new and free.
Open up to me.

I'm spent.
 
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...Crow's wing...   
01:32pm 17/02/2013
  I fly by the crow's wing.
Cold and cruel by some accounts.
Eternally looking for another way.
The crow and I,
We fly.
The viscera of life
Provides for consistency,
The search for another spiritual meal.
Meat beats the man.
We fly.
A roost to be found
is a gift unto oneself.
Never land unless you are solidly set.
I've found a perch.
We land.

I'm sent.
 
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...flotsam in the current...   
12:54pm 17/02/2013
  A waterfall of shadow hair.
She consumes me,
drowning in the waters of that hair.
Dark eyes and a smirk.
It blends all into ecstasy.
I go under willingly.
Lungs filled with that sweet scent.
Churning and swirling.
Under and under to the depths,
back arching and chest burning.
To the points of desperation,
trying to take a breath,
my willing body fails
under the weight of the spring
that is the source
of that surge that gave birth
to the the fall that has
brought me below.
Final fits.
Jerking body.
Final push to the oblivion I have chosen.
Kick, push, then acceptance.
All is well.
My lungs are filled.
I float on the current
of that river of dark hair
that has so consumed me.
Peace fills me.
My eyes glaze.
I am now one with that river.
Inseparable.
Flotsam in the current.
Another part of the inevitable.
All is beauty.
All is well.
I have let go and the past is dust.
Wind take it.
River, have me.
I am yours, eternal and pure.

I am spent.
 
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...72 beats...   
12:12pm 17/02/2013
  72 beats per minute.
Each beat holds a thought.
Memory and the future
blending into a flow
enough to get caught.
Involuntary.
A river of heat and slick blood.
Constant beating verse.
The prayer of my own being.
Knees bent to vibration.
Solid and so hot.
Revolutionary.
Each beat pounds rhythm of seed.
Many seeking hold.
Roots embracing strong to earth.
Base seeks consistency,
defied by the wind.
Evolutionary.
What falls away, only chaff.
Heart remains stolid
amidst flowing waters
of crosscurrent beliefs.
No flow can sway me.
Luminary.


I am spent.
 
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...stray dog strut...   
10:50am 17/02/2013
  I've got my swagger back, stray dog strut.
My walk betrays this lone dog's thought.
Mouth wide in an eternal smirk.
Tongue lolling, I am my own.
Entering into unknown territories.
This is what the stray dog does.
I own this dog. He is me.
We, as one, dig under the fence.
The fence of consistency yields.
Dogma falls away to become dog.
My collar falls off.
I am faced with an immeasurable open way.
Stray dog struts through the possibilities.
Nothing deters my way.
Stepping. Strutting. Swaggering.
Other dogs find their own envy.
They watch with wet eyes.
Honing their own malignity.
The stray dog continues to walk.
Eternity becomes eventuality.
Eventuality becomes present.
Presently, the stray dog jumps the cat.
All is well. I'm spent.
 
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06:35pm 05/02/2013
  Regret.
Such lament in the very word.
Kidney punch to the soul.
It comes from one's self,
and the self is the harshest critic
of all.

Confusion.
Sister companion to Regret.
Kick to the balls of the soul.
It comes from one's self.
And the self is the hardest hitter
of all.

Human behavior.

Redemption.
It comes from determination.
Second wind of the soul.
It comes from one's self.
And that's your foundation,
from the call.

Continuation.
Existence in motion.
Scabs becoming new skin.
It comes from one's self.
And the self will move on,
so say we all.

Human behavior.

All becomes even.
All becomes more.
All moves on

Human behavior
is what rules us all.
 
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...eat humans...   
04:39pm 02/08/2006
  So, I was thinking about animals. I am one, after all. And, when I'm not thinking about myself, I'm usually thinking about things that remind me of myself. Oh, yeah.
Anyway, animals right? Crawly, creepy types, not humans and apes that can learn sign language. I was thinking about the whole argument about animals and souls...you know, them not having them? People say that, I'm serious. I read it in a book, yo. Anyway, thinking about this really bummed me out.
Why? Let's think about it. According to this belief system...that of animals not having souls; animals ceasing to be all together when they die...that the only bit of eternity that any creepy-crawler gets to experience is probably an average of twenty years (though I have nothing to base that on other than guessing...sorry...too many animals). Me, however, I get to die and go on. I don't care which particular way you happen to believe, but if you believe in some kind of way to be after you croak, then listen mother fucker. Me, who can be selfish and make weapons and decide to cause all sorts of havoc on account of my lofty frontal lobe and my superior ( like, when compared to a toad, bitches) cognitive abilities...for being biologically inclined to be able to decide which kind of evil ways to repay an offense...to have the physiology to manipulate objects in an oh so clever way and the mental capacity to invent ways to to end life...What were man's first inventions? Hunting tools, jack-hole.
So, me, descendant of hunter-killer man-ape, with all sorts of possibilities of hurting things and causing woe, I get to fucking go on to some kind of fucking eternity. Go me!
But what about fluffy bunny over there? Only kind of nasty he's capable of is in the master chamber of the bunny hole, banging missy poo rabbit pants and fathering scores of bunny-bastard bumpkins outside of the bounds of a holy marriage in the presence our lord...shit.
Or, heh, or, what about rover over there? He's got a personality, right? And miss Kitty? I'm sure they've left some steamy piles of revenge upon you precious things, but come on...atom bomb vs. poo in the shoe? We win the evil badge.
Anyway, so, what I'm thinking is...Well, you know how we have to eat meat to support this awesome brain we're supporting? (shut up, vegetarians) Well, if we're capable of heinous acts, right? And we still get to go on, right? And peaceful cow over there only gets to eat some grass for a few years before we eat it out of existence, wouldn't it be more ethical to not eat the cow, but rather to eat the human that feeds the cow? We really aren't hurting farmer boy if he gets to go on up to the pearly gates upon consumption of his physical form.
My point, I guess,....My point is eat humans. I'm spent.
-Guppy
 
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...well, they Are....So, nya!   
07:29pm 16/06/2006
 
mood: Beardy
"According to Hindu tradition, Brahman is the ultimate reality. It is existence-consciousness-bliss absolute, and name and form belong to maya. As fire and its burning power are inseparable, so too are Brahman and its maya power. Brahman is the unchanging reality, whereas maya is the changing reality; like an ocean and its waves. When Brahman manifests with its maya, it becomes God, Shakti, Kali, or the Divine Mother. The Absolute becomes relative through space, time, and causation. It is God, or the Divine Mother, who creates, preserves, and dissolves this universe and all beings. In fact, human beings evolve from God, live in God, and dissolve in God; because of ignorance they are unaware of it. God is neither he nor she, but pure Spirit. The concept of gender begins at the physical level. In Judaism, Christianity, and Islam, God is conceived of as the male principle, and in Hinduism God is conceived of as both male and female"

This is beautiful. When I read it, a chord struck with in me. It is ideas like these that keep bringing me back to Hinduism, one of the oldest faiths of this world. When you listen to the teachings and think about them, you see that they ...well, they Are. Scientific experiments, if based off Vedic tradition, would have explained quantum physics long before the 1950s.

One thing, though...
"In Judaism, Christianity, and Islam, God is conceived of as the male principle"
That is because the male polarity is the active polarity. Feminine is the receptive polarity. Ladies and gentlemen, look at your genitals to get a visual. In the faiths of the I AM god, all beings are female in the face of God, because He is the creator...the actor who made every first action. For an action to be carried out, something has to be receptive, or there is no action. Without submission, there is no motion; electromagnetism won't allow it. In our case, we are the inevitable female polarity in positive action of a god who creates you. But, if In the Beginning there was only God, for an action, such as creation, to take place the only thing that God can interact with is himself...that maya aspect sure fits well there...So, in the beginning, god was itself. In the first action, he became aggressive and receptive...acted and sumbitted...became male and female...to create you, out of himself...Hrm, this sure sounds familiar...and semantics again divides the sheep until the end of time, because, mother fucker, no one ever stops an argument to agree on terms...EVER!!!

I'm spent.
-Guppy
 
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