Understand These

Understand the heart's longing
...and sense vibrations
At a timbre that probes viscera.

Understand the mind's circuitry
...and view pathways
With a clarity that pierces stone.

Understand etched dreams' shows
...and find fantasies
With performances beyond grandeur.

Understand music's infusions
...and feel it's fueling pulse
With pacing the pairs with you.

Understand intuition as it weaves
...and steer your constructions
With seaming firm and sturdy.

Understand art's revelations
...and smidgens of another's expressions
While gaining richness of new dimensions.

Understand desire's oft determined drive
...and experience external pull
Beyond preconceived bounds.

Understand yearning, desires echoes
...and become weakened
Often succumbing to stagnation.

Understand wit's darting plunge
...and radiating infusion
Make one more with more.

Understand the duality of soul
...and collapse and expand, or the inverse
While shuttering during that blink of vision.

Understand strength by deconstruction fears
...and discover solidarity
Build with your own tenacity's mesh.

Understand the wiles of temptation
...and experience fragility's skeleton
Void of any engineering strategy.

Understand the whittling of weakness
...and no longer be as the reed's bending
Rather drive as an implanted stiletto.


copyright 2007

Emptying the crevices

It is really a first in my living, that the ranging and unlimited volumes of inner space have become measured by me as lessened.

There has never been a time or section of my rolling days that found a void or seemed bound by a limiting lack of energy.

Yet in the recent months there has been sapping of the FLOW that I declare proof of living. I muse. I ponder. I weigh my state of being.

Measured by any former stick of evaluation, I cannot solve the weakened state I experience. By moving this pawn piece in my daily passage or shifting that component of 'me', I find an incongruence, that is but an ill-fitting garment or a rhythmic pacing of foot that is out of synchronicity.

What shall be done? Where can I find the roadways to flow and flourishing? Do I need supplements in nutrients? Shall I steep my brain in rich readings? Should I stand in the solitude of nature's elements?

Again, one must pause and allow... time's expenditure [those minutes one can sense as one's own possession] and real observations - either of experiences or of simple sensing,they MAY BE the best healing and nurturing cure.

Giving myself advice and sharing the dilemmas and evaluations aloud via word lines, I will declare that this process is a worthy effort, and in stating such, I will grab renewed zest.

What more shall one desire, save more, a bettered more by one's own enrichment of living by shoving more thoughts and energies into the act of being?

So to the gusto, it just wanes a bit. Let me manifest a new ration to thrive.

swelling and swirling

It's the point in our lives, where the input [the gathering of much] not only weighs so heavily within one's self but my being is experiencing a mixing into a homogeneous blend.

The needed combing of parts and compartmentalizing of pieces must be wrought.

What will result? A Revelation! A composing into a creation! What more...self cast into reality.

Cloaked existence, a cowardly way to exist.

Brash disclosures, imposed pressure.

What better? A gentle trailing of line and words upon pages [of posting to the internet's air] to give anyone who might read, reason to realize and know and largest wish, cause to respond.

It is the solitude, within which this soul does thrive, that solitude should cultivate exchanges.

Would you do a brief response?

If now, I will walk further, scattering more seeds and crusts of bread for another's scooping.

Grounding and gathering energies...

One walks. One follows footsteps of other walkers. One envisions the millions of footprints over the centuries past, that have been pressed upon the soil of China.

No matter where one goes, wandering, chasing, skimming the soil and surfaces of our earth, one will notice a connectivity with the terrain at times.

Yet in venues, new or ancient, there are subtle 'pulls' or repulsion that exert their forces upon our own feet.

With a consciousness, one feels unity and connectedness with some arenas of landscape and the opposite.

In China, as I moved my own being over the convulsions and slopes and steps, I found a invisible force drawing, from me, energy. The outflow brushed my awareness with a stroke overt enough to take from my stored chamber of 'chi'.

The outflow, though vital in a dialogue in the process of living, carved a gaping incision into my being. I experienced outflow and knew the loss.

energy in the air!!

The air once drawn in..permeates:
One's cells in dutiful dispensation of oxygen
And instigates the triggered release of the
Most precious spark - creative conception.

Ah, yes, the bathing of cells and soul sows
Seeds and seams ideas into that thing...the
Very wonderment of our day: an impassioned creation.

With that ignition, one spins, then idles, then zig-zags with the
Flight path of a bee and the energy of an ant and the
Precision of a spider.
Celebrations for the insect inventions that inhabit the
Mind when in that nameless GAP between stimulation and response.

Summer..it's arrival!

The air has the hand of draped fabric,
Clinging and layered upon our skin's surfaces.
In the shielding and protective qualities,
We find ourselves with refuge
And pause for reflective thought.
Were not more moments made for such use?

Ah, summer's duty...to place pause in our palms.

The foot dragging of spring's full flush has allowed hearts and steps to wane. No robust vigorous energy outflow into the dreamt projects of yard and home enhance. Nope not this year. The swirl of snow and blast of inclement winds have brought the beauty of winter to the edge of May nearly.
The extension of cool just allow the inner workings to rotate one's plottings through another cycle of planning. It is best to turn shivering into simmering and make hay when we can-say in August.
Bubbling pots of ideas, for me, brew best while the hour's hands ascend. It is the chi of me that I have identified to be loose and limber in the a.m. minutes. So my creative flows, if given open spicket, rage and rear their unbridled heads as the sun ascends. Notes to myself: be advised to seize and arrange as many mornings as you can to pour self to page, compose and conceive in every directions and simutaneously, making the p.m. hours ones to edit and refine the earlier moments' fertile acts.

Senses

On the senses and one's involvement... the stoic repression of sensory data-is the allowance for the data's fueling oneself. In the consumption of the flood of sensings, a person must be selective, allowing the flow of those energies that feed but do not poison one's self.

dpm 14 April 1994

That day..that Thursday..a turn

It is the needless truth to say that there are so many eyes that will never see nor read these lines. An in that omission my mission missed. So the potentiality of one's self is lessened or heightened by neglect of other's eyes...or is it better that one's own self see with the critical vision that chisels into a solid form..one's thoughts?

The day's hours were filled with a scattering of goodness and a bash of boring laced with the surprise of the airing of thought by works spoken or thoughts conceived.

When the silent moments find no echo, then one should shoulder to shoulder find friend to share.

Implement and imagine and ink it!

For all the conceptualization, over the flying months of 2006, I fail or rather I succeed in letting the advice flow and form and ferment! Ah, yup, that is what has been brewing for months. A little Alice in Wonderland am I, expounding on the 'this and that that' whilst aimlessly wandering in not even a wonderland.

A pox upon me, to repeat a phrase. The fleeting clarity I can make, is thin in it's impact upon the NOW!

So, I to, making seen the unseen. Trusting that I have in me the ALL needed but must extrude that OUT and shape 'it' and sell it to someone Else. They will love the results. They will build the excitement of managing their children and their Love's benefits...when my ideas, soon available in Technicolor and to the touch...bring value to the user's life and skills.

ME, oh, me..read this once and do it thrice and then even more. OK Done.