Over the past two months or so I've been randomly writing a few poems in momentary bursts of creativity and inspiration. I am by no means an expert on poems or anything else for that matter, but I greatly enjoy writing these in hopes that both I and others will get a better understanding of what is being pointed to. They have all been created on the basis of experiences with psychedelics, meditation or just mere speculation on the concepts of life and death. I would greatly appreciate any and all types of feedback or criticism. Thanks.

Creation
__________
You are the film-maker, the painter and the sculptor.
You create forms of the formless.
Manifesting Yourself in every moment.
Expressing the all-pervasive being that is.
Imprinting You into the movie strip that is life.
Moment – By moment – By moment.


Way of Life
__________
Walking down the lonely road,
that no man has ever foretold.
The world unfolding step by step.
Always going,
never knowing,
what, where or when.


This Is
__________
Beyond words, concepts and ideas.
This singular experience resides.
Found within every moment,
unbound by the constraints of time,
a space within space itself.


Breath
__________
Life is a breath of air.
Born on the inhalation,
Dying on the exhalation.
Cycling till the end of time,
through infinite forms.
You are not the breath,
but the breather.


Happiness
__________
Seeking the concept of eternal bliss.
Unable to relinquish belief in despair.
Caught in the self-perpetuated cycle of depression.
Joy is always one step around the corner.
On the road of ignorance.

These are all awesome Bonne. I feel everything you've said in these. My feelings and thoughts are very similar.

Keep them comin'

I love it! Great work! For whatever reason, Breath really resonated with me. Very eloquent and thought provoking!

Thanks a lot for the sweet comments, they are very much appreciated. I will most certainly make more poems, but I think it's important not to rush anything. They'll present themselves to me when they're ready to be written.

The view from the front lines, very nice. Almost on a level with Thayumanavar.:-)

Thanks for this.

I used to do mind practices throughout the day (sometimes still) where I will spontaneously choose a word or a few words and poetically construct some inspirational thought patterns. It always helped me remain happy, creative, grounded and imaginative. And your art and poetry reminded me of that. For that I say thank you. Keep it going.

superb

Hahaha, thanks a lot.
I don't think I have material enough to bind an entire book anytime soon though. I will keep playing though.

So I was just sitting here tonight and wrote another piece. I am not sure if it can be considered a poem, at least not in the style of its precursors, but it's something.


I inhale fully and anticipate the sensory storm that is gradually approaching my field of awareness.
The breeze...
It caresses my skin with an angelic touch that anhialates any preconceived anxiety.
The floor is crumbling beneath my feet.
Likewise are my attempts at ever returning to who I imagined my self to be.
I fade away in crisp synchronization to the whispering melody of the ever-flowing whiff of spirits.
For a split second, purely momentarily, I am smashed to smithereens.
The stateless state of ceaseless temporariness is unshrouded like a cloudy veil of distorted deceit.
I see clearly...
The luminous presence of the marvelously buoyant elastic string that has been gracefully choking the life out of my cadaver.
I am unbound by the continuous spaciousness that has withheld my attentionless desire to be free.
I evidently apprehend that I can never be free from the grips of space and unbroken eternity, because I was never caged.
I will take upon any form to express the ineffable mystery that is considered life.
This is what I will do.
This is what I have always done.
My life is not the wave of an ocean or the drifting cloud in an otherwise cloudless sky.
It is the ever present presence of ocean and sky itself.
Look towards the horizon, and you will stare blankly at your own shimmering eyes.
No words can contain the mesmerizing beauty of witnessing your self in its undivided nature of beingness.
Don't hold your breath as I exhale in your face.