CPoetry

yesterday; yest is a teacher that is best. thank yest and he will bring today. welcome today and you are royalty; you are rich by another day. yest will say: T ell my friend Tomorrow that you welcome whatever you do not know is coming. By the day's end, you always become me; more learned,  more burned by the kiln, more wise. Tomorrow (I call him Tom for short), Tom will greet you with open arms. ::: wish and hope to be a soul that swims in salt water; wish and hope with all in you to be in that kind of water! dream to inhale and exhale it someday. fresh water dwellers look for replenishment in saturated freshness; those who swim in fresh water seek healing outside themselves. salt water fish have cried and tasted their tears; on the palate of hopelessness they, with their own tongues, tasted exaltation! now they embrace pain, for they know salt water heals wounds. :::  the one w

try to see not through a black narrow pupil but the white of, the, eye as you attack a view of pov, er, ty. pov, er, ty inside e, terni, ty we are all lookin' for a home without money a land where honey runs long may we bake, bake, bake, bake it again make it again a new love, let us eat again never starvin' rich or poor, forget those words and lines boundaries defined, forget all of that let's find that oven and that air inside that, can, rise our souls again ::: so open. so full. so fragrant. mmm. a place where you rub your lips together. you taste the Sensual of it all. watch your feet sweetheart. the right vine will make you fall. infatuated, you are, by the Marilyn Monroes, crested and bending over. how bold are they?! these flowers deflowered throughout every hour. hide your eyes if you can't take it! oh so vulnerable and oh, so, venerable this vice garden is. ::: i will say

when a hill knows its part sky, when a fish knows its within breath, when a bird knows its continuously falling, when a human being knows its be-ing, when a rooster wakes from its own call, when a waterfall knows its emptiness, when a knot untangles itself, when a horse knows its majesty, when Sherlock Holmes unlocks his own mystery, when olive oil knows its levels of virginity and says, "Less crushing and pressing please!", when a sunflower knows its own heat, when an infant knows the person looking back, when a miracle knows its learning;  Real Purpose. ::: watch the fool, walking with an empty bucket on his head. a short while ago he dumped a hundred thousand poppy seeds he had collected for the past thirty years. he walks around like a drunk saying idiotic things: "I found what I lost, lost what I found, found what was here and never gone! Oh what have I done all these years looking for eve

at day's opening, i see before me a good omen--- a day of celebration. i stood and watched, as my window-friend did--- in transparent awe--- at what we were seeing; a gentle white falling everywhere. so calm, so serene. whomever died in Fall and was loved by Winter, has ascended and was now falling not from a tree but from Heaven. enlightened souls are bringing a new joy. someone prepare the appetizers,      a party will soon commence.      ::: there was a certain prayer i would say to God. i will call it the Central Prayer. it is simple and reads as this: "You give me Guidance, I'll give you Greatness." now, i can see where i went wrong with his; the "Greatness" is implied as something separate and detached from myself. finally stripped of the fallacy, i know what the real prayer is; we are what is Great. God is simply the -ness  in noun connection; this is how t

triggered Your greatest hurts. pleaded for You to cry.      conquer stride conquer      across Your own tears. i feel a new warmth inside. ::: surround the impatient one with black sheets, so he may not see with his eyes. force him to see with his other eyes. only then, will he know the unknown was what he has always known. ::: you are neither special nor unimportant. you are neither rich nor poor. you are neither wise nor foolish. you are neither courageous nor fearful. you are neither scent nor odorlessness. you are neither city nor grassy plains. you are neither knowledge nor ignorance. you are neither belonging nor be-drifting. you are neither here nor nowhere. you are neither miracle nor coincidence. you are neither these words nor their definitions. you are both excluded  and included among all. ::: cut wood as planks and you see its knots and its shredded scars. cut wood as cylindrical

loneliness is the greatest path towards personal enlightenment; when you sit at a mahogany circle with your mind, heart, and soul, you have no choice but to ask for one of them to pass the wine. No-One is there to help. in fact, the best help is No-One's existence. ::: beyond the forest, he saw the valley. beyond the valley, he hoped for the river to run. beyond the river to run, he saw the ocean ready to be poured. when he stood back, this preacher saw the Promised Land. he saw the green beauty in a rusted, copper penny;  oxygen breathed rust on this penny, yet to him, it oxidized new, green life. this preacher saw a Greater love in a cent's worth of evil. ::: turn off your lamps. unplug the street lights from their places. Mr. Lighthouse, sir, if you could be so kind as to shut your eyes just this once? why do we believe so much in fear's brightness? if we all, for a moment, shut off all the ligh