| Orphicgoblin |
| Swiss Poem Account Collection |
| Poem Account Poets orphic goblin wylde Paul Kren Barry Fitton Craig Moore panta rhei Joshua Griffin Jota judih |
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| Contact the Poet: Eyeosphere@aol.com |
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| ALL MY RELATIONS Seeing Hearing The buddha in jazz sparkled spirals of a cacophonic vision applaud before me marbled melodies of all my relations delightful deities washing over me adorned in one harmonious veil saxophones snake charmers all are one Buddha Jazz The setting sun |
| Today I was reminded of ... The power of habit. It's habit it's habit, that lucid moment when flicking through files of my cortex cabinet I found, the compatible concept, the emotional neutraliser, the missing glove of my inner hand. Time passes . . . feelings return rise, temptation to disbelieve, no clarity only a trick of the temporal jester, beaten and bruised by punches of the fistless cynic that lies within. It's habit it's habit not to remember change impermanence the everlasting flow being seeing feeling knowing it's habit, it's habit. Cry and let go cry and forget cry to remember it's habit it's habit to . . . |
| Shame seeping veins of recognition crawling upwards translucent exposure upon the slippery surface of my memory where my pillared thoughts once stood in shameless clarity a validation of my convictions the inverted fascist of positivity sacrificial principles martyrdom of madness or madness of martyrdom locked inside the temporal tabernacle adoration only by time's allowance enables the ego's recompense |
| Poetry I All My Relations Shame Today I Was Reminded Of... Confusion's Precipice |
| Confusion's Precipice Pondered on blue skies that left we when you came dispersed the clouds of anger with lucid visions taking we to a place where all clowns don't hide behind painted smiles rushed towards laughter 's edge hung there for a while screaming watched misery drop before we inviting us down shouting ME! - in my voices laughing animation of suspended - choice walk away leave we here the hung world is our heaven let the hungry birds feed on this mocked flesh let the frayed ropes of unfulfilled pleasure ...suspend me where is I? |