MY OWN ENVELOPE PARTY

i’m welcomed to my own own envelope party!
yeah! yeah! yeah!
writing letters at the seams
multiple colored dreams
fantasies and a spelled out intention
reading it all out, so that all could be mentioned

tearing open the paper for a surprise
the secret in here to advise ::: the reconciliation is closed
i supposed it was because the bridge could not be crossed
apparel sequencing nonetheless flossed
the steps removed and tossed
anchoring exploitation is the name
‘bossed’ by recurring screens
littered in the eyes of incapable means

when wishing to dethrone the idea of home, my expectations sprint like the legends of rome.
emblematic of an extravagant moonlight affair, my apparel crafted a tailored flair.
dismissing the evidentiary notion. seeking rivers or oceans instead.
as the bed doesn’t lie. the mind can cry opposed to the big picture but verified by in nuance.

seeing what’s caught in between.
but begging for the green to be worn like jeans.
understood are the roles played. they can’t all relay because their actions play a part.
contradictory elements within the genes . bullying the pressure to let go and release the SCREAM.
all over and on and on.
composed in note and pattern
without the visitation of exact correlation or by the planet Saturn!

(this poem / song came to me in a dREaM. i was at my old church, and there were multiple envelops thrown into the air while this song was being sang by the congregation. the dREaM ended by me being toppled over by a woman who sat on me after the last note was harmonized. very colorful indeed but i don’t know what it could mean?) 😂😅🤣

AI rendering of this dREaM…
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WTM! TOF?

“Those that have an Ear, let them Hear!”

i find it curious, that when folks check in on you, they continue with wonder: “how have you been? what have you been up too? long time no talk too, what’s been happening?” however, those same people can’t / wouldn’t / haven’t – taken anytime to press play to engage in your latest creation.

🤔🧐🤨

if you want the message to relay; indeed all you need to do is press play and LISTEN! (i would really appreciate your feedback / criticisms especially if you make it through the whole thing!

this project was originally released 2 years ago as a written text, featuring 10 chapters with a lot of colorful poetry and allegory. i’ve done the difficult arrangement of writing, editing, and recording it all. There’s no ‘physical’ copy of this book yet because i really want folks to listen as opposed to flipping through the pages and missing something.

Typos notwithstanding, there’s a message! May you get through! Whether through the Angel (😇) or Angle (📐)

Blessings and thank you for everyone that has taken the time! This was done at no cost to you, but if you wish to give a love token and donation :

Cashapp : $gesturegreen

paypal: paradiseclarity@gmail.com

Zelle: jesterants@gmail.com

November 7th, 2015

when eye look at the the full moon tonight, I’m reminded how my life was changed this day 7 years ago at Paisley Park. i’ll never forget that conversation and feeling. it was spiritual, all aglow, and all encompassing : much how the moon has 8 phases, various stages in between.

This was a night of correction _ a reminder of where I was standing.

i’ve never seen myself as much of a ‘fan’ but appreciator and admirer of his music. it was very clear i admired and some may say even ‘ADORED’ Prince’s music.  (Shoutout to The One!) ❤

I downloaded /purchased all of his (and related) albums and remembered all the lyrics! the music just connected with me. it’s like Prince knew how to ensure all the instruments including silence, we’re always so clear to hear and feel. to this day, truly i am moved. something about that Purple Music!

it was this night where i gave a private tour of paisley park alongside with TrevorGuy to journalists from Europe (pictured above) it was also announced to me for the first time that, Prince would be doing a solo Piano and Microphone Tour all across Europe in 3 weeks!

Alongside with MonoNeon (Bass Guitar) Donna Grantis (Guitarist) , Adrian Clutchfield (Sax & ewi) , and Kirk Johnson (Drums). As for my position? I‘d be working the teleprompter! he assigned me this position because he had watched my videos and was aware of my knowledge of his music and aware that i could keep up with his sudden musical transitions.

this was all so unbelievable to accept. And while this ultimately did not occur due to Ticket Scalping, and him deciding to have the first show at Paisley Park – the mere invitation was enough to transfix my anticipation.

amidst my glory and elation : it was reminded to me by Prince himself _ “You are in this position because you carry a light, you needn’t be shocked; you are here because you belong here!” i had smack myself out the fog of disbelief – it’s like nah man, take another look of what you have and USE IT! You don’t need to be surprised, just go with a smile and do the work!

Share your light and don’t hide it – ‘LIVE OUT LOUD‘ was after all the first song that I received from him in an email. it all became clear to me and my figuring out became glorified, it was like I had seen and walked into the light. Only after being guided by a mentor and oracle. I remember smiling and holding onto this revelation because it was that exact affirmation that encouraged me to continue with my soon to be released project ‘Characters In The Wind‘ which was going to be in New Zealand of that next year in 2016.

It all came at once, much like this memory. I’ve just returned from seeing Metallica in Hollywood, Florida! I’ve been listening to Metallica for about a year now and this being my 3rd show of theirs : it was an amazing experience. Much of it reminded me of how it was like being in the Prince community however this scene is totally different! Ha! They’ve been around for over 40 years and the sound just hits you. Especially when you peep into the different changes they’ve experienced throughout their career. The show I attended was for the ‘Trues’ as it was only songs played from their first two albums on the MegaForce label : ‘Kill Em’ All & Ride The Lightning’.

It was a special experience and I got to share it with my dearest friend, comrade, and sing-out loud to bad songs homie: jamilah! it was a electrifying night with vibrational intensity. From the conviction in Lars Ulrich drum playing, to the emblazoned passion in Kirk Hammett’s guitar playing. Matched with the throbbing resolution of Rob Trujillo’s bass guitar playing, harmonized with James Hetfield’s rhythmic guitar swagger – they bring something signature and sincere.

Experiencing music is all about connecting to the thing which can’t always be explained. It causes you to re-evaluate where you stand in the great congregation of life. All Together Now! (more or on that later in the Upcoming audio book!)

Everyone on this planet has value and importance. Don’t let this backwards system of Capitalism convince you otherwise ! they are constantly feeding us lies all based in individual and backwards ideology that serves only the interests of empire. We can and should work together, how else can we build if we are stuck in our own individual vacuums struggling in silence?

to hell with that! Realize you are a social being. you are breathing air. you desire community! all of us do. even introverts who prefer the company of themselves, still understand the necessity of contact with the other. it can’t be just you. it’s not just you. it’s never just one person.

Connecting with all of the forces that join in harmony is what this struggle is about. It’s not going to be easy because correction is hard to swallow for a lot of folks. Why? Because of liberalism. For those who do not know what Liberalism is a great text on this is by Mao Tse-Tung : in Combat Liberalism he writes: 

“To let things slide for the sake of peace and friendship when a person has clearly gone wrong, and refrain from principled argument because he is an old acquaintance, a fellow townsman, a schoolmate, a close friend, a loved one, an old colleague or old subordinate. Or to touch on the matter lightly instead of going into it thoroughly, so as to keep on good terms. The result is that both the organization and the individual are harmed. This is one type of liberalism.”

THIS IS WHAT WE HAVE TO FIGHT EVERY DAY! Because we are all trained and socialized to be liberal on maters. Conflict avoidant. “I don’t talk about X Y Z” All of these avoidances are a result of how the system of capitalism trains us to silence ourselves when we are confronted with truth. We have to fight against that and struggle for a better world.

ALL of that to say : looking at the Full Moon reminded me of some of these notions to also weigh the minutes that have been counted before me! It has been written and said. I’m basking in the glow, the fullness that is to know.

all i’m saying is : a lot is about to change! (👛⛅️🛣️)

WAIT (W3IGH) THE – MINTUTE! TYPO OR FAITH (FAT3)? COMING SOON!

STRUCTURED LAWN

are you in need of an algorithmic foundation?
one that is far away from frustration?
if by tending to your garden, weeds sprout
from the forgotten edges, to the root stained grout…
how will you be able to frame the name for an achievable aim?

(discipline and process) is in need of a [protected] structure to stay alive – to guard against the ticks on the dog, passing by – which were deprived from on high
as seeds were picked by the birds in the sky, they dropping mites, worms and fleas
& with a sudden breeze, for a moment: activity stops with a sneeze.

thus, recognition is in need of a lay down.
a written recollection providing memory and context to what can be found.
When the sense became NON (nonsense) : this propelled the LAWN to yield green pastures at dawn, otherwise reaction or revolution – will push the glass to fall…
the answer to that call : is one that writes lines while connecting grapes to vine.

og art piece in the middle (originally conceptualized in 2015) it took 7 years to finalize!

time through rhyme *ELEMENTS OF MATERIAL : ARISE!* despite the size,
the measured bowl of calculating expense – makes you wash and rinse
as it’s all coming through: due to many silent hills (which may thrill) 
BUT UPON INSPECTION OF THIS RIDDLED CIRCUMSTANCE?
HA!~ WHY NOT BE ABOUT THAT DANCE!
with the slick bounce of the beat, get caught dancing in the grocery store and then off to the street!

for when the groove makes its way to the belly way below: a deep BLUE beyond
makes the rain obtain favors that seek to know:
where’s the drip coming from?
whether the ceiling is cracked (with mold) or the floor is a bacteria cafeteria…(a slimy situation irrespective of how old)
the hysteria acts like bliss: if you’re so willing to kiss the hiss found when you dismiss!

sentiment aside: I rather abide _ in a motion that is fast and slow_ so that I can glow!
I’ve been chased by the darkness night
trying to fight by the guiding of a righteous light
it’s right by the signature of one’s might!
that is to say: according to their will!
by not laying still…
but moving onward and forward: carrying a candle with our dessert sandals! cuz’ it’s all too hot to handle!’

When the nonsense became clear: this excited the lawn to yield green pastures to revere…
by scheduling ahead we avoid conflict to appear, writing onto calendar script, alarming the appointment as to not be overbooked or whipped!

if you ain’t looking to be flipped 🖕🏾: structure your lawn to a dial, which honors your period beyond the trial. This will make the planting and growing cycle worth your while.

HISTORICAL FACT*

it is a historical fact! that the story has been played like an act !
there’s indeed a synopsis and sequel  …
but the characters and setting are not equal !

troubled is the fragrance that left me stained
reminded, tossed, inactive remains? spiked n’ chained !
i wish to train the cross left for me to bear
the markers are legislated : docile and unfair

it is a historical fact! that the lines are studied, written, & tracked!
there’s indeed a subject and plot …
but the producer failed at hiring the director’s slot !

whose forrest is being destroyed and whose lawn is in need of finely cut grass?
besides the mercenaries who only seek to exploit the working class?
BUT we’re kicking the glass so that it may fall
for this sound is a recall
that the shattering deposition of restricting forces may withstand even within an arid and calloused land/hand

it is a historical fact! that the story has been cracked!
there’s indeed hammers, screws, and drills ….
but the complex is yet incomplete, exempt from all the thrills!

we’re pumped y’all! ! 
cuz we’ve already been captured by a blood sucking thief
thus, certainly there’s no peace of mind or bodily relief
when in war – one can not simply refuse the score
only until the pedals and bullets are scattered on the floor
will the meaning of such sacrifice bum-rush the door

it is a historical fact! that the story has been stacked!
one coming in after the other, now the room is packed!
there’s indeed a selling point and central theme
one in which may create a distraction or a humorous meme ….

MIRACULOUS WEB MAZE

032120 MWM
MWM

Wh000aaaa? that’s Marvelous! CAN I GET A WITNESS IN HERE? it appears to me that we’ve tapped into the : MIRACULOUS, WEB – MAZE! – but who could ever think that we could be so overwhelmed? how could we ever begin – when there is no foreseeable end? how can we return back the default option – when endless labyrinths exist by the opening of doors and drawers.

“we all have that one drawer which stores random paraphernalia. when looking for a box of screws – you instead see various nails. long nails. small nails, and even medium sized nails – but your hammer just left you screwed!”

according to the national headlines – the masses have drunk the juice of misfortune. after all, what is a story unless it’s laced with some form of:

conflict and resolution!

tabs and windows!

molasses and lighting!

:::

As this key transcends the usual behavior of access, protection is governed to those who created the casualties.
 
Through the passage of confidentiality – this systematic matrix, is initiated by the trusted click of secured relevant information!

They aimed it to be an encrypted casualty – one that in totality gave life to the user and password.

It can not be contained by memory only but written encryption. 

 ::: – ENCRYPTED CAUSALITY 

yet we are still…

*constantly updating*

this Web is hilarious. we’re all stuck now in a Maze which doesn’t point to an end. it’s continuing to feel more isolated. cold. ostracized. overall, things are getting more dusty. whose gonna trace their names and numbers onto the furniture while also remembering to clean their hands afterwards?

not long ago i noticed a spider spinning down nearly approaching the countertop. i attempted to capture the spider by taking a napkin and placing it directly under it, so it would land on it.  however, to my shocking surprise – the moment it barely graced the napkin – it immediately spun all the way back to the top of the radiator. one thing became very clear to me – in real time, one can easily return back to the hard surface – instead of freely spinning out in the open air.

very few things sweep us into the miraculous! when it seems impossible, unlikely, and rare because you were among the first to witness it. if it appears to have never happened before – think of it happening outside of yourself. how often do we allow ourselves to feel the plight of our neighbors?

for the elderly in society – they are rarely visited in their care homes. most of them rely on daily activities such as bingo, puzzles, and live entertainment to invigorate their days. otherwise, Monday is not much different from Sunday. with social distancing becoming more and more recommended – one has to wonder how isolating one feels even more so, now that families are not able to see their loved ones (or gather in groups larger than 10) in fear that covoid-19 could spread faster.

desperate times call for desperate measures. even when provoked at every corner we are persuaded to think of everyone involved. we’re all linked into the night and light. this has caused a fundamental shift in feeling. it’s weird. it’s boredom. it calls for various questions! some of which – I can’t begin to write down. the blues provide clues to the shadows.

 

https://soundcloud.com/jestereyesound/blue-shadows

where words fail, this enduring classic by Billie Holiday seems to capture all my feels concisely. 

Good morning heartache, you old gloomy sight
Good morning heartache, thought we said goodbye last night
I turned and tossed until it seemed you had gone
But here you are with the dawn

Wish I’d forget you, but you’re here to stay
It seems I met you when my love went away
Now everyday I start by saying to you
Good morning heartache, what’s new

Stop haunting me now
Can’t chase you no how
Just leave me alone
I’ve got those Monday blues
Straight through Sunday blues

Good morning heartache, here we go again
Good morning heartache, you’re the one who knew me when
Might as well get used to you hanging around
Good morning heartache, sit down

Stop haunting me now
Can’t chase you no how
Just leave me alone
I’ve got those Monday blues
Straight through Sunday blues

Good morning heartache, here we go again
Good morning heartache, you’re the one who knew me when
Might as well get used to you hanging around
Good morning heartache, sit down

Thank you Bille Holiday, <3!!!

MIGHT // ABLE

The following script is in connection to a series of conversations entitled ‘Riddle Me That…’ which is due to release at the beginning of 2019.

Maybean: Hey Fo’sho!!! I was thinking about bringing to light an idea that has been stalking me in the back of my mind.

Fo’sho: Really Maybean? Why don’t you bring it into light, that way you can see if it’s a good idea or not?

Maybean: Perhaps I will. It would be nice to see what was done in the dark manifested in the light.

Fo’sho: Let’s do it. I’ll get started on the preparation.

Maybean: Well, I’m not ready yet, I’m still working on the basic idea.

Fo’sho: Let me know when you are ready, I can help you with the basic layout. If you don’t mind.

Maybean: That would be cool. I’ll try to remember when I get all the ideas in a clear format.

Fo’sho: You sound hesitant against my help.

Maybean: Well perhaps, I’m just not totally clear about what I want to do, yet.

Fo’sho: I’m capable of following out the plan for you?

Maybean: But the plan is still haunting me. It’s like that word that is on the tip of your tongue, that you can’t fully pronounce. Like seeing the picture in your head but being unable to illustrate all the fine details.

Fo’sho: You rarely if ever get the details fully flushed out. I can help with that if you are willing to receive my help. I need more than your willingness. I want you to sign my name so that I can show up on time.

Maybean: However, I am not totally sure if this idea is as fluid as you see it. If I work this idea with you, it won’t just be my idea but ours. You might add to it somethings I don’t want to be in it.

Fo’sho: How would you even know, if you haven’t even got the basic idea out?

Maybean: I suppose you are right.

Fo’sho: I volunteered to help you bring it out of the midnight corners of your mind. Whatever is out there in the dark may be bulky and less specific– you may be unable to do it on your own. We can collaborate on this together, if you want.

Maybean: I suppose, I don’t know? The way I measured the idea in my mind was just a scent and shade of something that had the potential to be bigger. It is not capable of letting me go. (*I don’t believe the idea will be given to someone else*.) I don’t have to say it over and over for me to remember it. It only takes once, and I’ll go back to it until when I can fully build on it. Perhaps, you can help me bring it out, a little later? Once I pull it beyond the shadows?

Fo’sho: Understood. By the way,

remember that script I told you, I was working on?

Maybean: I think I know which one you’re talking about.

Fo’sho: Well whether you think you know or have simply forgotten, that script is already done. I’m waiting for it to be edited so I can submit it to my publisher.

Maybean: The reason why I say, I THINK is because you never clarified which script you were talking about. You had several scripts you were working on. I wasn’t sure.

Fo’sho: My bad, I’m talking about the script about the drug planted by the government and addictive prostitutes entwined to it.

Maybean: I don’t recall that script? It matters none! Cheers! I’m glad you finished it.

Fo’sho: Yep, I been working on it for months, but I remained disciplined and I finished it before the due date.

Maybean: That’s remarkable!

Fo’sho: Have you ever thought about abiding by a specific guideline to help you bring out your ideas to light? It could help with your productivity. It helped with mine!

Maybean: Nah, I haven’t thought much about that.

Fo’sho: Well wouldn’t you want to try it now that you see it may work for your benefit?

Maybean: I May do that. I mean, you don’t see me suggesting to you my method of flushing out ideas not because you can’t do it but because it never occurred to me that you might find it interesting.

Fo’sho: My method seems more productive, but then again, I haven’t tried yours.

Maybean: And neither have I tried yours.

Fo’sho: I guess we both got work to do. Or we can continue blind? I suppose it doesn’t make much of a difference, if we arrive to the same lines of action.

Maybean: Our lines may be similar – they don’t got to be the same – you do your thing and I’ll do mine!

Swollen Moon

I smell like the fragrance of the golden moon

Strawberry scents of the rich skies which make them swoon

Without saying words, shared stories of my tailored made dress

Can’t tell if they’re clever enough to unbutton it with finesse

At the mercy of the bird – I hear their word

Their wings soaring a tune, while the daylight hides from the moon

There they stood – looking at me from the lowest to the highest top

If they focused any longer,

They would be able to see that I just don’t want it to stop

I felt eaten alive as they studied my charts

From all of the truth to the lies

From the deepest pits of hell and my nightmares

To the overflowing heavenly skies

I’m the pariah and I’m the prey

I toss with the wind and I can never stay

I’m the pariah and I’m the prey

I toss with the wind and can never stay

My growth expands me into multi-dimensional halls

All of the signs are written on the Cosmic Walls

My growth expands me into multi-dimensional halls

All of the signs are written on the cosmic walls

Written on the cosmic walls

All of the signs are written on the Cosmic Walls

I smell like the fragrance of the golden moon

Strawberry scents of the rich skies which make them swoon

They describe to me, the direction of your heavenly flight –

I shall truly reach the depths of this melodic height…

At the mercy of the bird – I hear their word

Their wings soaring a tune,

While the daylight hides from the moon

I felt eaten alive as they studied my charts

From all of the truth to the lies

From the deepest pits of hell and my nightmares

To the overflowing heavenly skies

My growth expands me into multi-dimensional halls

For all of the signs are written on the Cosmic Walls

My growth expands me into multi-dimensional halls

All of the signs are written on the Cosmic Walls

This song appears of Jeremy Garner’s album ‘Sensory Illumination‘ .

Luck & Pray

There’s never one way of praying because prayer is meditative.

Prayer is communication.

We’re all praying whether we give someone: Blessings! Good Vibes! & Best of luck!

Whenever you assure somebody that they got this! When you’re praying for someone – you’re sending out love or at the very least – The best of what can be for them.

Prayer is the hope that your situation can improve. It’s the vibration of a positive evolution to your current state of affairs – It’s a push of optimism without the guarantee that things will develop for the best but a prayerful insight reaches for compassion.

Praying for someone is putting someone in your hearts nest – holding them in your intention like a lover would secure their love in a protective intensity.

Prayer is the indication that some thoughts are reserved just for your benefit and comfort – and with this energy of positivity may every prayer see you through.

*I wrote this for my homie Mr. Ivory Snow – who put this on his latest album Snow. It’s a song about prayer. He produced all the music and finished the album in two weeks! Talk about inspiration! 

Destination: Splash Utopia

“Paradise is fiction to the hearts without enchanted flash.

The riddle of movement and flow begins at the sound of the splash.”

AND NOW THERE’S DESSERT #2 – Splash Utopia served by Jeremy Garner who handles all the music and production. I love this track because of the guitar and the changes in this song! Jeremy is one of the most underrated musicians, I’ve had the pleasure to work with. He sent this song to me and blew my head off. I hope you do enjoy!

 

https://soundcloud.com/jestereyesound/splash-utopia-ft-jeremy-garner

Remember – On YouTube is where to find me and Jeremy Garner’s Latest Collaborations!

Cursed Belonging

Cursed be the memory that led me to you – it was an illusion

A trick of the mind which entered me like a toxic pollution

The pollinated air and well-trained disguise guided me by making me adaptive

Those allergies produced a cough and itch that’s prisoned me captive

How could I ever resist that infallible rose

A token of blossom laced with the protection of the thorns which are clothes

I’m cut by the tender clinch

Reminded yet again that everything we hold requires us not to flinch

A forged experience completely entwined by a complex tribe

If we only listened to the call of the shadows – Would this still be a bribe?

Now, I’m like a ghost wishing to belong to a world opposite of the dream

Steady longing for those sketches of empty frames which scream

Envisioning to be filled yet again with color and personality

The curse of belonging is a memory from the heart of commonality but not factuality

The Firey Speck

In a moment where the wind blew
For a brief grievance, my coat tail knew
The fiery dust which embraced my eye
Came to proclaim a message of a thunderous lullaby
To be awake is to steady see
The anguish and anger always sent for me
A song for the hornet and wide winged bat
Inside of my shattered heart, my reaction is a frivolous stat

When the speck hit my eye
I should have washed it out with lye
The burn would have paralyzed my will to see
The dream that this would set us free
But now I’m waking up to be hurt
All of my feelings are stuck in the dirt

For some wish to learn at the university – receiving methods and assignments in strenuous diversity
Others are not for the will to learn from the school book
They rather get it word of mouth from the bell and informed hook
I suppose it matters not where education arrives
For as long as the trail of questions convince our begging lives

When the speck hit my eye
I should have washed it out with lye
The burn would have paralyzed my will to see
The dream that this would set us free
But now I’m waking up to be hurt
All of my feelings are stuck in the dirt

{bridge}
A refrain of speckled puzzles convinced me to see
A dark illumination that’s paralyzed me
If not for the will to sing this song
I’d refuse to believe the dance to belong
The color of a miss-step is the shade of a fading white
No one has to wrestle in the error of the unseen night

A frivolous stat! A frivolous stat! A hornet without honey and wide winged bat! A wide-winged bat!
For seeing without eyes are like bees without honey
A purpose to be drawn without the necessity of money
The speck in my eye became an enlarged reflector
This inspired a pathway to become the most desired nectar

When the speck hit my eye
I should have washed it out with lye
The burn would have paralyzed my will to see
The dream that this would set us free
But now I’m waking up to be hurt
All of my feelings are stuck in the dirt

Ambiguous Windows

The rise of the enchanting normal
Separates the odd and the desolate
Ambiguous windows are imagination’s fate

I know that revelation is out there
I can sense the tap on my shoulder
Once turning away from it – the touch persisted and became older
I Can’t find the source of my irritation
Might it be the mind leading me to imagination?

The windows of my confessions are ambiguous
The doors to my certainty are locked away
The key to my access is chained to a combination of gray

Everybody’s looking for a story to relate
Looking at a situation that encourages them to no longer wait
Although I can play recommended part
I can’t convince myself to start

The windows of my confessions are ambiguous
The doors to my certainty are locked away
The key to my access is chained to a combination of gray

When lost to the present idea – I’m pulled by the culture of group think
Everyone abiding by their own ink
If we can believe our own rosy illusion
Why should we run away at confusion

I’ve looked in the mirror far too less
My reflection is anyone’s guess
I much rather look out the window to find anything that can be
Imagination removes the veil and sets us free

Dreaming of A World With More Zeros

I’m dreaming of a world with more zeros. A future filled with information which doesn’t end but repeats. A loop of daily routine found in a prism of ideas, to yield more discovery. How grand it would be, for our future to endlessly reach more experiences of love.

In a time where research is easily accessible – do you ever stop to think – we have enough information already? There’s so much hidden and revealed, there can’t be anything else left for us to know, right? Nah!

There’s plenty of wisdom left to uncover. The love of wisdom is what philosophy is at the center to root. The encouragement that comes from knowledge is awe-inspiring. The potential of knowledge made to good use revives and stimulates your nerves. When information is accessed properly – it aligns your memories to your eventual dreams.

Dreaming is to uncover those random thoughts that slipped through mundanity. *Let’s be Real: Life can be incredibly stagnant and predictable.* In spite of this, A picture that you briefly looked at it – can come back as a mansion of chandeliers. These can all be set to challenge and remind you of an essence meant to be explored when you wake up.

For a moment – picture every seed as a zero. When you plant zeros in the ground – you are essentially planting nothing. That’s what it seems. A small figure that expands into something Grand. All of the proper conditions must be in sync for it to yield a worthy result. Now think of it:

Dreaming of a world with more seeds.

Wouldn’t this be Grand? Where would we plant all of these seeds? They can’t all go into the ground – that would be limiting every other pocket waiting to be filled. Plant seeds in the clouds, souls, Children, etc. You’ll never have a shortage of places to plant seeds.

The more you plant those seeds – your zeros will stand among the many.

My dream is now living life with more seeds. More opportunities that await a future that’s entwined with past and present. It’s not that hard to see. A life that encourages us to plant seeds. To intend for a result which performs positivity.

When Flowers Yawn

As flowers dream to glistening stars above

They entrance me deeply

The foggy morning appears to me

The empathy of softness

The coy awakening where flower’s stare

Eye see joy there – inside it

The stardust gyrating around your hair

Are peddles you’ll repel by reflecting

Inside through outside – our kinship
are sleepy dreams

The cool summer that you once knew

You’ll see in me entirely

When flowers awaken – the dozy spell will signal

Our arms to stretch

As flowers stretch from the inside – we are transfixed by their yawn

THIS POEM IS INSPIRED BY THE FLOW, ARRANGEMENT, AND PRODUCTION OF THE SONG ‘SACRED‘ BY SANANDA MAITREYA ON HIS LATEST ALBUM ‘ PROMETHEUS & PANDORA’

Y-ME/X (#Graph#)

DeathUnderneathThe Firement

When the act becomes pathological – it is then easier to carry out falsehood.

Concern begins to diminish and what was once an act of sorrow and remorse is now happiness and comfort.

There is no longer a lingering of turbulence, in fact, my character is unapologetic.

I once reflected like time indefinite.

I tried to catch the glass tiles; before they fell.

Without a smile, I asked if you can turn on the stereo.

I wanted to play this old song, about love.

At one time, I thought it was OK for us to communicate, but we simply have no identification with each other anymore.

It’s no longer that ‘Awkward’ silences which truly make it uncomfortable, rather the remembrance of our structure.

We simply forgot to water the plants that day and now the weeds have choked up the smallest hint of life which existed.

Allowing my alter-ego to take over only seemed justified when you no longer bore my true nature.

I couldn’t be true ‘REAL’ with you because there were too many questions.

No, we didn’t have to agree on everything, but we should not have to fight around the details of something.

The noise of my mask reiterates the gloom and ugly, you desperately ignored in our broken relationship.

Did I forget to tell you my name? My name is Y-Me – it is a name that carefully defines the function behind our pantomimed motives.

Why me?

Because you never liked being responsible for your actions.

You rather me but instead the motive behind me, crouches at your door! 

You will have to face it, in the final judgment.

But until then, I leave you a graph, I’ll leave it to you, to measure the axis and right angles.

Perhaps, you’ll define the variables in relation to your ‘X’.

I remember writing this almost a year ago, on the cracks of my relationship with X, and it came back to me, because of a similar manifestation I had recently. A lot of these words could be taken as a bit bitter, but I truly believe the graph will be marked. The house is dissolved, and the skeletons are given a new name!

Sugary Flow

Sweeter dreams of milky passions she speaks.
 
She compliments the insight of what she sees in the light!
 
The wonder in her words – counting again.
 
I’m trying to recall the statement in her blessing!?
 
Going forward through 17 measures – which is poetically sung within the voices of melodic serenades.
 
She sings of a feeling, that pounds her heart so near.
 
As her rhythm is understood, by the choir of an audience, everyone sings in harmony.
 
The flow is begged by a craving for sugary islands and sweet drops of rain.
 
If this were a song it would be forbidden in the broadcasted notion of what is truly sacred.
 
Every part of syncopation no longer waits – it takes each chance to deal with the response.
 
The desires are fully dressed with unselfish luxury.
Image
Dedicated: To The One -Who Embraced The Element Of My Longing // Her Name Is Behind The Camera.

“Consciousness…”

 

“Consciousness expresses itself through creation. This world we live in is the dance of the creator. Dancers come and go in the twinkling of an eye but the dance lives on. On many an occasion when I’m dancing, I’ve felt touched by something sacred. In those moments, I’ve felt my spirit soar and become one with everything that exists. I become the stars and the moon. I become the lover and the beloved. I become the victor and the vanquished. I become the master and the slave. I become the singer and the song. I become the knower and the known. I keep on dancing and then, it is the eternal dance of creation. The creator and creation merge into one wholeness of joy. I keep on dancing and dancing… and dancing, until there is only… the dance.”

– Michael Jackson