Author: poetryfest

the yogacara speak
of a form of consciousness

where all the seeds
of past deeds
are deposited.

one by one these seeds
come to fruition
simultaneously

creating a person
and a private world.

a universe of closet sized cinemas
each occupied by a single person

eternally viewing a different film.

everything is of the nature of consciousness

the product of one’s own projections.

ignorance and suffering
believe the yogacara
result from feeling
the movie to be real.

Long have I searched through old things
And new things and torn things
And used things
And things of the flesh
And the sky and air
And humble beasts
And rulers of everything
And nothing in between

Where kisses lie on fabric
And passion rises out of concrete
And hate is washed in the blood
And love speaks in flowers and new seasons

And the moment when we say “ecstasy”
And submit to believe what we once did not
That all things can be beautiful
And ugly
And lost
And found
At once

That a day can mean nothing
And everything

That a hand can hold the world
And the sea
And emptiness

At once

Life can be beautiful if you let it

The ecstasy of the moment is when
You stop asking what it is
And let it bloom

The air is warm on the walk today
Scents of freshly blooming flowers
Trees and plants with colours of all sorts
Trail is well used by people and animals alike
It is hard to see though through half closed eyes
Each step laboured by pains
Every breath feels harder to take
Slowly and with great effort another step is taken
You see someone enjoying the park
On the inside MS is tearing me apart.

“A tree which has lost its head will never recover it again,
and will survive only as a monument of the ignorance
and folly of its tormentor.” ― George William Curtis

I remember when the first men came
Taking what they needed from the forest
Vestiges of a balance long extinct.

I remember when the next men came
Viscid sap and cracked branches
Etching their names into my memory.

I remember when those men came back
Hatchets in the hands that once held penknives
Actions practiced and deliberate.

I remember as they stripped me
The cold taste of Copper Naphthenate
The blistering heat of the sawblade.

I remember being split and splintered
Joints locked with iron spikes
Paralyzed and beaten on the cracked earth.

I remember every wail of warning
Creaking with each step that met me
Begging any end to the destruction.

I remember as my admonitions were ignored
As the cities sank, and the fields burned.
You should have listened to the trees.

Drifting on the bluish oceanic water
Crowning yourself as the world’s only godly father
Legalising your visions philosophy as so much smarter
Leaving the innocent open for the monstrous Leviatan
Incredibly stormy waves will destroy your secret work, adulter

Walking on the earth as on the glittering water
You are nothing more but a bitter little evil, virus-rumor starter
Taking your destructive and Wicked lies more than farther
Twisting mathematical evidence you became the world’s scientific slanderer
Hades will turn you over to his underworld’s fiery wanderer

Drowning in the depths of deadly icy, worldly water
Dying in your own deception, the lies you used to gather
How could you do this to your own sister and brother?
Could you not have shared the truth in love rather?
But you desired to follow Lucifer’s attempts to go higher
Now, for eternity drowned in your watery grave as a lost purgatory fighter

Remember the time when we were swimming together in the water
Our molecules waited millions of years to combine in this way
It took millions of attempts for us to find each other
We swam together in the swarm
Sometimes at the front, at the back, on the top, or at the bottom

Remember the time when we wanted to go ashore together
It took millions of attempts for us to be able to breathe together
We shared life in different ways and drifted with continents

Remember the many attempts to walk upright
It took millions of lives for us to be able to walk together

Remember the time when we wanted to be bigger and stronger
We crowned our willful heads
And conquered the most remote corners of the world
How many times have we lost our peoples because our heads lost their way?

Remember the time when our unity between good and evil fell apart
We attacked each other and did not recognize ourselves
We had to wage countless wars to find peace
You have fought for your values, too
We took each other’s lives out
Of fear of losing our own

Remember the age of Enlightenment – when we became mature
How many attempts did it take for us to share the crown?
How many cruel mistakes did we endure so we could trust each other?
How long did we have to wait until everyone could adopt their own nature?
How many lives did it take until we could love each other?
And swim peacefully together – in the sea of man
Sometimes at the front, at the back, on the top or at the bottom

Your genes remember all of this
If the right spirit leads them

The temp’rature’s higher
The bigger the fire
A planet-wide fryer, no beer–
We’re nearing the tip-over year.
We’re nearing the tip-over year.

The countdown began so many long years ago,
Years being years, it seemed to go slow.
Yet now we’re all here, just a few years to go:
We’re nearing the tip-over year.

The temp’rature’s higher
The bigger the fire.
We’re down to the wire, it’s clear:
We’re nearing the tip-over year.
We’re nearing the tip-over year.

We’re not yet lock-stepped to an iron-clad fate,
It almost is, but it isn’t too late.
‘Til the birds and the bees disappear,
we’re nearing the tip-over year.

You must understand
There’s no time, no debate,
Change the world now,
The future won’t wait.
The future is already here–

The temp’rature’s higher
The bigger the fire,
Wake the town crier,
Wake the town crier,
Wake the town crier—
We’re nearing the tip-over year
(nearing the tip-over–)
nearing the tip-over
nearing the tip-over year.

One thing we agree on
Like it’s up there in neon,
We’re nearing the tip-over year.

w/m c. 2022: Matt Levin

He left me a voice message that we had survived a shooting.
His voice was shaky, nervous, maybe excited to be alive, or ashamed.
He said there was a shooting the night after we left, on the same street,
south of Philadelphia.
He said it could have been us, the two of us, holding hands,
I told him I guess god liked us this time
And only this time
Like so many other times, I had said the same thing.
He said my mom would have died of this sorrow,
And I said I don’t have a mom
But I have died of her grief once.
And the good thing about dying is that you don’t die anymore.

Standing up for Ukraine civilians means standing for 20 percent of the Russians living there, too.

Time to realize the following is true.

Americans are liars to state they are for democracy by rigging an election in 2014 Ukraine.

Now Americans are to state they are for peace by sending weapons of mass destruction to Ukraine 2022.

Dreaming of 1984 Americans state they have a booming economy when shelves are empty.

I live in a world of doublespeak is something I did not expect I lived in all my life.

Now to live in a world where Teddy Roosevelt was a mass murderer by deception of Spaniards for the Spanish American war; read history and realize the Maine blew itself up, not a Spanish mine.

Great War, Woodrow Wilson classified the RMS Lusitania, which was an ammunition carrier until 2008 – meaning for 90 years a lie to start the Great War World War I.

Upon reading about LBJ lied about the Gulf of Tonkin killing two million Vietnamese for what reason?

People say, Oh, but that is the past people say.

Forever watching Syria bombed by Obama, Trump, Biden, Bush for gassing their own people – turns out that is a lie proven by both the BBC, and the UN.

Opened my eyes when I look at in horror Afghanistan with the awkward question the Taliban did not fly into the Twin Towers.
Reality was not one Afghanistan was onboard when a plane hit the Pentagon.

Ukraine photos from Syria, Syria which is bombed by Obama, Trump, Biden, Bush for gassing their own people – turns out that is a lie proven by both the BBC, and the UN.

Keenly I look at in horror Afghanistan with the awkward question the Taliban did not fly into the Twin Towers.

Reality, not one Afghanistan was onboard when a plane hit the Pentagon.

American funding stolen elections, and weapons of mass destruction even gets into bio-labs.

I was hoping for a hero to hope and root for.

Nowadays I see 1984, Revelation 6, Revelation 13 with the nanobots in the vaccine.

Eternity watching the end of humanity is not good with United States threatening humanity with thermonuclear war.

Clinton Siegle is a blogger, disabled, expat, filmmaker, poet, and writer living in La Paz, Bolivia.
https://www.minds.com/Talon123/

Walking the halls of an empty building,
Devoid of nature, of feeling, of life.
The beat of my feet,
Steady, my own personal drum.
I was not aware that I was moving,
I was not aware that I was living.

My existence, but an iota of a spectacle,
Of a story.
Had the Fates cut the lifeline of my being,
It would be no different than
The drying of a creek bed,
The fading of an echo.
A means to an end.

Time ran away, hand in hand with reality.
I stopped, suddenly tired, and curled up into a ball.
And when I opened my eyes,
I was back again, concrete,
Alive.

A piercing beam of sunlight hit me in the face,
I blinked, spots of grey and black dancing before me.
An overwhelming smell of grain and heat filled my nostrils,
I looked around, an unfamiliar location.
A place, perhaps, of some notoriety.
I wiped the sweat from my brow,
Dripping down the sides of my face and into my mouth,
Before stumbling into the monoculture of wheat,
The scratchy stems of wheat cutting into my skin,
Etching ever-lasting tattoos.

Over a hill, there was a little creek, a cute cottage,
Painted blue and green.
There I stood, on the precipice of materiality,
And a hand touched my shoulder.

Welcome.
A sweet voice, soft, lyrical.
I turned around, and stared into the eyes
of a beautiful boy.
Tousled hair, bright eyed,
Red rosy lips.

We stared at each other,
Exchanging silent words,
And he took my hand,
Pulled me into a tight embrace.
You’re safe.

Synchronous breathing, and we became
One.

What’s down there?
He hugged me tighter, steady heartbeat
Echoing in my ear.
Is this real? Is this my life?

Could this be my life?

He stepped back,
And I saw the amusement,
Glittering in his eyes.

You didn’t choose this.

We held out trembling hands,
Linked fingers.
Two hearts, two beings.
So close, yet so alien.

Do you wonder what could have happened,
If you did?

A kiss to the cheek and he was gone,
summery voice fading away,
over the hills of rolling gold.

Do you wonder?