Thursday, 24 April 2008

So fly to sing a fragile song


The stories have been sold
with terrible profits,
just to let you drive all-night
in a hypnotic beat.

Forever young in plain desire
on the top of the ice mountain
empty handed again and again.


Only wisdom dreams the moment
in the eternal garden of light and dark
in infinite measures completely aware.

Some things can unfold
in a open fragile source called freedom,
the 4th state.

No thought can infect it,
it’s wireless that crazy little thing
called Love
we are made of it,
wonderful creative
Stardust Children underneath the Sun.

Tuesday, 22 April 2008

Took the soul back from an anxious master in the broken fields of laughter


Going into the extreme,
just drop dead
to be a light !
Naked elevation in the dawn,
true nature inside the infinite
the borderless scheme of it.
In the beginning you will find the moment
here and now,
the Lover, the bright One.

The battle a very consistent illusion
lost in a very sad hand full of dusty coins
and a lot of little children to abuse and torture
inside your stolen property, the suffering Mother
a spoonful of liquid making wounds
in her temple,
spitting in the righteous face
of your own mystery.

Still turning the other cheek
kept on blessing you,
the source of Love went through
their tired conspiracy ,
the big brother sleep can’t manipulate the beat
most of the notes are made of silence
you knew that.
You really are broken the response is very clear,
does it always end in an apocalyptic hell when a master speaks ?
Brimstones and disaster inside your uncertainty.
Things were very clear, it’s timeless
till the very end the circle was unbroken,
Love needs no space, no body, no thoughts,
no emotional reactions, no political structures,
and certainly no philosophy or a secret brilliant library,
there is no will to do it, it’s wordless, little child,
matter is also made of shit,
be free, just drop death be alive right now,
you should be awake eternal One.
Being, awareness, bliss.

Monday, 21 April 2008

It's a bloody mess in the Garden today, but the flowers are still blooming


The April fools took over the throne
playing with weightless lucid clouds
and the mystic open Sun,
the blossoms are thrilling
in the ancestral air
the seeds are shining faithful
inside the burning ground.
Can you imagine the movement
towards a forbidden fruit
in a rainbow reflection?

An awoken flame inside
the infinite
reveals the illusion of darkness
in a broader perspective
beyond the duality, the battlefield.

It’s a bloody mess in the Garden today!

Sunday, 20 April 2008

A blue butterfly movement causing a warm breeze in the mirrormachine reflection


The golden calf love
foolish and hopeless astray
in the dark energy of the swallowing
matter.
Blue hair, black eyes
mirror neurons filled with empathy.

New wine vaporizing playful
in the gateway of the shady garden
and is breaking through the tangible
physical borderlines,
deep in the embrace of Love
the eternal ecstatic moment.
Here and Now.
It is.

Saturday, 5 April 2008

"The swimmer of light leaps"


She is roaming there
beside the clear River,
a touch of her heart
will make a poor boy
understand
her elevating dreams.
The tree is blooming
the fragrance made us dance
in the star winds of the night
the beat goes straight through wordless
sighing
beyond the battle of the greed
of our sad monetary structures of fear.

You can’t manipulate the great ocean
all the rivers go back home.

In every age.

Wednesday, 2 April 2008

The second door in the wild Sun


The second door in the wild sun
is opening in broken words,
the wind in the stars is decomposing
in the awoken soft parade of the heart.

The essence of the fruit eternal
without borders,
fragile resting against
the chequered tree.

The healing water
pours down the tainted walls
in cleaning clarity.

Tuesday, 1 April 2008

The Mystery of duality


With a sensitive gesture
I burned a broken sentence of an old book,
and probably rebuilt a world
of cosmic proportion in an empty conclusion.



And what do you know
the stars shone alright

in the colours of the wind when I flew inside the sun.


Heart nights in the mystery of duality,
another free beat to conceive
in the infinite moment of immorality.