Raw power of accuracy

The gold has to be somewhere.

I've digested the broken Sun

and amplified the measures

in a nuclear freeze.

Drunk on sugar mountain

Cutting sugarcane
in the heat,
the fragile dust, hungry,
so thirsty for life
the wounds infected
captured in the cruel corporate chains
of the puppet players of every president.

Uncertain,
hoping
some dark eagles
will fly on Friday.

Just to get drunk
on sugar mountain again,
only the cheapest wine
to still the hunting pain.

Printing silver coins on shining walls,

the raw material is stolen from the elemental

source.

Throw your software package on the ground

and start dancing !

Baby boom greed

The baby boom greed
and the morals of the perverted father.

I’m hiding in a sacred place
deep within.
For a few coins and a spoonful
this paradise is sold in this life
and probably in the(this)next life too.
Some called it heaven and hell,
who is leaving this mess behind?
Valley of tears.
Who is leaving this measures behind?
Cloud nine.

Throw your software package on the ground
and start dancing, thank God it’s Friday.

The image is made of it

Confidence,
when the senses open fragile,
in the rainbow fields.
The warmth of her smile,
carrying water to the thirsty Ones.

The mirror machine
has future right here, right now
and is going beyond
guild or fear.
The reflection will be
the deepest source,
a crazy little thing called Love,
every image is made of it
that is what we are.
The mountain call is always trying
deep within.

The regulator of dust

The corruption of the regulator
to finance the war,
the stolen elements of the third World
in a central illusion.

Intolerance, speculation,
religious self-interest,
dead words of love
stuck in the throats of the hateful.

Compassion is trying
to be aware of the pollution
of our heavenly body,
everything is holy.

Water hole on fire

Living on a thin ice mountain.

An air bubble was created
for everybody to be lost in
the inextricable wires
of greed.

Please it’s nice to share
an energetic smile
and hand over our bread and wine.

“The answer is blowing in the wind,”
so tired of fighting against the mills
again and again.

Is your knowledge second hand?

A dumb ass
is driving on cornbread
with an overheated brain
from his mobile phone,
his desire for meat
is corrected by a little blue pill,
he paid for it by speculation
on the free market
with the hermetic precision
of vampire numbers.

Immortal dance behind the Sun

The collective source is wireless,
through the seasons we change
in fragile measures.

“You’ll be the Sun
and I will be the Moon.”

With orange feathers reaching
for the Garden to comprehend,
a butterfly movement
made a soft breeze inside
the beatitude of a heart beat.

The work already has been done

Searching has become an industry
a long time ago,
some people are trying to mend a hole
with a hole of innovation,
didn’t they know
the work already has been done
from the beginning of time?

Please don’t create an end
inside your memory,
because it is timeless,
an eternal experiment
to understand the essence.

The simple order
in this complexity is One,
every grain of sand
divine and sacred.

Come back to the communion of saints,
be who you suppose to be
and don’t think twice,
it’s just a mirror machine
the reflection of light.

The Whirlpool, the monatary maze

Money, it’s so funny
(lost in a rich man’s world)
Fannie Mea and Freddie Mac
were lovers,
they robbed the bank
on a sunny day
and got away on the fastest plane.



The material is digested,
faeces left to let our lights shine,
what a relief.
The mirror machine
needs shit to survive
this suggestive poetry.

Who is dealing in fear,
just to let the factory burn
in an infected paradise?

Prison break beyond the mind

Sea of possibility
the Innocent One
beyond time and space,
Peace
the state of being,
always here and now.

Find the connection again and again,
it always is, was and will be.

We can’t put paradise
in a sentence.

Awareness is love,
love is awareness.

The edges scream

Horns whispering through the beat,
keep the fire burning
the Garden is breathing underneath,
a magic touch you can’t repeat.

The substance has shaken
her uncertain hand,
the borderline
tore her dance to small pieces
everything looks divided
for the untrained eye
walls are always crumbling,
the sun came through
a long time before your reckless stumbling.

Wires infront of the Sun

Sunny side up,
undivided awareness
the eye
of the storm,
the silence
of all sounds.

With our so called ‘genius’
we’re trying to heal the world
with a chemical substance
and called it our creation,
at the same time, the stuff
is infecting the very essence
of the source.

Can One split it into heaven and hell ?

It’s fragile.

Joy and pain
the inner desire,
you are no body, no thinking,
no feeling, no act,
put of these masks and be.

The dealer wants you to play along with the program,
freedom is dangerous in a small world,
the factory has to keep on burning,
nowadays with a ultra modern image
it really looks like environmental progression,
the green deal,
same old stuff, same old crap!

Much to learn in the depth of an eternal moment.

Egghead twisted in the wires

Realization to open
….windows.
The one that is searching
has to be found.

No one in this universe
ever found an Ego,
although the limitation
is all around.

Who stole those wonderful
ice mountains last week ?