Creation, from the Light in the Dark

From the depths of the blackened void,
Where time is as the substance
that permeates below,
A spark of light

Blinding by its nature,
Shining knowledge on both sides,
A truth is derived

Hope for the future,
Passed down from one life to the next
All that is bad,
Ruinous and hexed
Forewarned.

Life and death renew,
As the universe evolves
Its contents spew

What rises shall fall,
In falling rise,
What seens as old,
Is seen with new eyes.

Let knowledge be imparted
The end? Barely started.
All that has been
Can be reseen

Feelings of love and loss,
Grow under the skin
As parasitic moss.

Shoved clean to
the white below,
Knowledge remains,
Pure as snow

A dearth of emotion,
An echoing sound,
Always in motion,
Risen from the ground.

Seldom forearmed,
Danger shall strike,
Emotion then stored,
As unto the Shrike.

Beyond good and evil,
Powers still sway,
From the many paths,
We all can stray.

Seen the previous beyond,
Slowly at heart,
As a shimmering frond,
In the ocean it sways.

Cycle of Destiny

The Fates guide us on the Road,
From life to life

Through laughter and joy,
Lamentations and strife.

A daily challenge,
To postpone mindless death

Succeed or fail,
We exchange our breath.

From lofty heights,
To Hadean pits

Our every action,
Between consciousness flits.

Our soul a blur,
Currently mixed.

Eventually returns,
To where nothingness sits.

Danse Morte

The feast of the dead approaches,
Where all Heart is consumed,
The flames rise to the night sky once more.

The damned call down the blessed,
Naked they dance,
Mirroring the flames own,
Intertwined.

Blood flows from mouth to chest,
Oiled and blackened,
A howl to the twilight.

The orgy of emotion comes to a head,
The flames bellow forth,
the creation of the practitioners.

A skeletal bird wisps through the flames,
Screeching with hooked jaw,
through the triumphant bodies.

It spins toward the moon on impossible wings,
Bringing with it death to the land and life that bloomed.

Those of wisdom who guide the realm,
Lock hands and huddle against the impeding cold.

The work is not yet complete.

-19th October 2016, Kilnwick Percy Madhyamaka Buddhist Kadampa Centre

Preparation for Another Journey

The urge to wander lands I have not yet visited once again rises upon me. There is much to see while the body is still willing, and there is little foreseeable to hold me back, aware as I am of my limits.

When I look around the fair town I was born in, and many more besides, I see beneath the facade of cleanliness. People wearing masks as they go about their daily routine. The usually invisible manipulators encouraging and replusing, according to their own programming.

The labels of the psychiatric profession encouraged upon me in their own wheedling persuasiveness to make me doubt my beliefs shaped through experience and instead embrace a number of adjectives to place me firmly on the outside of the social strata, have since changed to a focus on medication and repeated questions to establish a update on this...condition.

Medication and subservience to an establishment encouraged to keep people in a state of docility and sleep is not the answer for me, and so I shall try to meet others with minds both similar and at total odds with my own, and try to find a better solution, for the betterment of all.

My spiritual studies continue to bring links between various religions, seeming as nuggets of truth in the vast flotsam and jetsam of noise and power-agenda'd information and disinformation.

The leads have pointed to several places of interest around the globe that may lead to knowledge that can be put to practical use, and I intend to visit Greece, Egypt and Israel soon. Whether I shall be successful in this quest as opposed to my last failed attempt to explore Syria remains to be seen.

Progression

A surge flows
Convulse emotive energy
Colours reactions, the interpretation of words,
Programming for the society that manifests dark desires.

Working the intentions.

The tenuous grip on the consensual reality,
A depth of outpouring resentments
pushing further through the swirling vortex of the source.

A creator sits on a rock atop a blasted landscape, head lowered,
Tears falling like raindrops of blood to the dusty ground below.

You hold the swords of vengeance and the wand of possibility.
The aura of the avatar before you emits a kaliedoscope
of colour as it recognises all that you are.

"This creation shall again act according to the desires that give life
it'as vast and complex flavours."

Everything that can be, is.

A Goal

A mist of semblance
The possibility of The All
Within an instant

Manifest at the edge of reason
Infinity from an angle
That provokes startling insight

All is reality
Belief shapes the known Universe

Let all known consequences
Guide train of thought

Build Utopia
A Universe Adjusted
For All as One

-written on a bench in Scarborough town centre

Aridnead - Princess of Spiders

Staring through the razor web,
Her eyes pools of ichor
She clutches strands of wire

In her parlour of black ice,
A cup of poisons offered
Beneath a multitude of saucer eyes

A  drink to chase away the terror
of her embrace,
Body numb with expectance

She  smiles needles and scurries forward,
Barbed legs bring no pain as they sink in
To willing flesh

Leaning in to inhale your death-musk,
Blackened lips clasp on to  your own
A dessicated form is dropped

Remains join the others,
Strewn upon the cavern floor
A warning to those who dare to act as predator near her

Feasted, she slumbers anew
Limbs furling around her distended womb
The brood spreads