Sunday, 17 February 2008

We are that


That what is creating
is creating through our hearts,
through our gestures, songs and trying,
through our whispering in silence
our movements of hope and belief in love.
We are creation in eternal moments
here and now,
deep inside the infinite
we are that.

A crazy little thing called love.

Monday, 11 February 2008

Candy storm


There are no borders to be found,
only thin lines of misunderstanding
in lifes game of desire,
who are you?
Are you searching for love......
Do you see the mirrormachine?

Love pill for the daffodil


You gave me the feeling,
the highest of the high.
One Love!

Wicked business


Into the dark age of crap
twisting and turning the cards
throwing the stones
on bleeding tables.
The blue tree is wandering deep inside,
its manipulated flowers became neon plastic
monetary figures connected to the wires
of the burning machines of the corporate men.

Monday, 4 February 2008

Wires are twisted


The misty aggression blew up my breakfast in teardrops of blood,
the rough trade of the middlemen, the greedy priesthood perverted
screaming in their own weakness, the twisted rules made a biochemical
depression in the freedom flight of the infinite children.
The dream weaver burned the book inside his first cigarette,
the smoke danced with a colourful stroke on his coffee cup,
the TV set went berserk in his old dragon breath,
miles from nowhere in orange feathers the wires got connected again
the joy to know it’s love to comprehend in this wonderful
streams of light underneath the overwhelming cosmic sun.
The tree stood his ground beyond the disorientating spell
of the wicked deep in sleep.
Come back to those blue flames in the magic well, the rainbows
are silently meditating, the awareness that we’re made of the
elementary eternal dust in a wordless relief.

When evening shadows fall


The ice queen played with the salty tears of the meek in digital
fires, she chained them under the cold wild earth, the air was sticking
to their voiceless throats.
The wheels are turning with a dreadful noise, the scattered splinters
of the heart are lost in images of violence and naked relief,
the thieves and dealers are doing infected designer drugs and
deep meditation from the book of management, they stole
the trickery of endless power and put it in a little box,
the ignorant virus was found in every word
that kept on penetrating in the fragile minds.
The soldiers were initiated by raping an innocent flower in the
dark dust of greed.

“From dusk to dawn when evening shadows fall.”

Sunday, 3 February 2008

The Underground connecting part one


Felt on my knees trustful, lost in a moment, in fire my heart became, the magic
when the wires inside were connected again in the purple valley.
The master was surrounded by the scent of every blooming universe of dream,
his breath was a storm in silent measures, the walls an illusion in the garden
of light and dark.
The words just fingers pointing at the embracing moon, the reflection in the drop
was holding a cosmic ocean in butterfly movements, lost in the overwhelming infinite
warmth of the essence of love, a source recognised as the only reality, everything
and everyone is borderless, only One to comprehend, in the mindless state
an eternal moment of beatitude, being, awareness and bliss,
I am Love.
The Mother smiles and is smoking a cigarette in a misty atmosphere, her white dog
is waiting for a walk in the park, a small part of chaos in the cultivated madness
of the war lords, the earth is moaning in my ecstasy the blue notes dancing
in the fragile hearts of the waterfall, life went on and on, the dancer lost in the
whirling of the fire dance, the pounding of the drum made high notes a thousand
dream birds flew away in the shining mystic breeze of the sun winds.

Soul creates a certain reality


My eyes are lost in the corner
I have to bring them to the left side,
the dream warriors
are wired in the dust
the silence is beating the drums.
An ancient stone
is calling in fragments of light,
the highpriestess
is holding the circle inside.
Soul creates a certain reality
do you have the right to be
bitter.
The heart is rising in waterfall
dreams,
beside the river the elements are shaking the dust from the mirror again in symbols
of light and dark blueprints, going with the warmth of the whispering wind,
waiting for the tears to fall on the clean earth, in a misty moment the two
lost eachother in silly philosophy.

Saturday, 2 February 2008

Love Gate in bits and bites


Love gate
in bits of light and dark
drifting on the roof
with pink diamonds
deep inside the mind.






Don't fight it

Holding back the fire
in simple gestures,
the cold
is searching
for a crack
that will break me
every small line
in the dust
will understand
the warmth
of the ancient mother
again.