07/30/2012
Oh, Kahlil your wisdom is great
though I say that I see the beauty differently than your grace.
I see the beauty in the eyes and in the face,
the gateways to the heart, the heavenly place.
* I wrote this after reading a quote by Kahlil Gibran on Marna's FB.
Monday, July 30, 2012
Olympic Games of our Time
07/15/2012
Olympic games of our time.
Victories are celebrated and romanticized.
Losses are rationalized.
It is an Olympic time to build the body and the mind to shine.
Commercials are selling the products that kills the body and the mind at the same time.
Muscles and the minds are tethered, doped, and brutalized.
It is an ironic time.
It is a conflicting and contradicting time.
It is an Olympic of our time.
It's a global exploitation and consuming time.
It is a religious extremist time.
It is a drone killing time.
It is a race of parallel fake diplomacy time.
Our time is no different than any other time.
It is a time of framing the narratives of the old times.
It is a time to control the human mind and the soul in a "new" frame mold,
the multinational corporate mold, the emperors of our time.
Olympic of our time.
It is an everlasting game of power and control.
Control of freedom to be bargained, and bestowed.
Control of water, food, and world resource to be marketed, and resold.
Control of human mind is the goal of our time.
It is an Olympic time.
Building of body and mind, and killing them at the same time.
It is a McDonald and the likes time.
Olympic games of our time.
Victories are celebrated and romanticized.
Losses are rationalized.
It is an Olympic time to build the body and the mind to shine.
Commercials are selling the products that kills the body and the mind at the same time.
Muscles and the minds are tethered, doped, and brutalized.
It is an ironic time.
It is a conflicting and contradicting time.
It is an Olympic of our time.
It's a global exploitation and consuming time.
It is a religious extremist time.
It is a drone killing time.
It is a race of parallel fake diplomacy time.
Our time is no different than any other time.
It is a time of framing the narratives of the old times.
It is a time to control the human mind and the soul in a "new" frame mold,
the multinational corporate mold, the emperors of our time.
Olympic of our time.
It is an everlasting game of power and control.
Control of freedom to be bargained, and bestowed.
Control of water, food, and world resource to be marketed, and resold.
Control of human mind is the goal of our time.
It is an Olympic time.
Building of body and mind, and killing them at the same time.
It is a McDonald and the likes time.
Saturday, July 28, 2012
Particles Flickering Mind
07/05/2012
Time creeps, and the destiny reaps, so it seems, hooray for the living streak,
the fantasy of human imagination.
The particles enumerate the mind in time, the unchanging time, the ironic time.
Subatomic particles seek only to not to be found, or
there was nothing to be found in a static time.
But nothing stops the fantasy imaginating minds of human kind.
.
The words, the thoughts, and the consciousness slip away
in momentary times, a rehearsal of a kind, the fainting of the conscious mind.
Is it a crossing of horizon, or a closing of a horizon that not to be?
Consciousness returns to it's momentary living
to dwell the knowing and of the unknowing conflicting grinds.
There seems to be a contradiction in what I think, and
what that surrounds the particle, and it's mind.
My mind is a rotary of particle design, or it is an independent
singing subatomic rhyme free from the particle mind.
Time creeps, and the destiny reaps, so it seems in particles' playful chimes,
the particles flickering mind.
Time creeps, and the destiny reaps, so it seems, hooray for the living streak,
the fantasy of human imagination.
The particles enumerate the mind in time, the unchanging time, the ironic time.
Subatomic particles seek only to not to be found, or
there was nothing to be found in a static time.
But nothing stops the fantasy imaginating minds of human kind.
.
The words, the thoughts, and the consciousness slip away
in momentary times, a rehearsal of a kind, the fainting of the conscious mind.
Is it a crossing of horizon, or a closing of a horizon that not to be?
Consciousness returns to it's momentary living
to dwell the knowing and of the unknowing conflicting grinds.
There seems to be a contradiction in what I think, and
what that surrounds the particle, and it's mind.
My mind is a rotary of particle design, or it is an independent
singing subatomic rhyme free from the particle mind.
Time creeps, and the destiny reaps, so it seems in particles' playful chimes,
the particles flickering mind.
Sunday, July 8, 2012
THE FREE TIME
Shake off the colonial spirit and themes of our time.
Free our hearts and minds from colonial enslaved minds.
Colonial living has been with humanity for a long time.
Evolve to be free from the "faith" and "blessing" minds.
It's time for human race to be free from colonial enslaved minds.
Be free from the needy and the greedy minds that breeds the controlling,
fighting, and warring minds.
It is our time. Make it a free time.
Oh, how I wish the dream to turn into a real time, the free time.
Free our hearts and minds from colonial enslaved minds.
Colonial living has been with humanity for a long time.
Evolve to be free from the "faith" and "blessing" minds.
It's time for human race to be free from colonial enslaved minds.
Be free from the needy and the greedy minds that breeds the controlling,
fighting, and warring minds.
It is our time. Make it a free time.
Oh, how I wish the dream to turn into a real time, the free time.
Monday, June 25, 2012
HEART POUNDS
Heart pounds to hear it's sound.
The sound submerged in pollutants of our time.
Heart pounds it's beat in synchronous with the moments,
so it seems.
the mysterious moments of life, love, and it's feat
comes with it's sweets and deceits.
Heart pounds to hear it's sound.
Oh, how I wish the heart to sing, dance, and
keep away from the prance of the controlling and fooling political beasts,
yet I find the freedom slipping away to slime political rhymes to render
security, minimum wage, and a dime.
It is our time when wars had taken a mass murderous incline.
Atom bombs compete with more treacherous killing machines, the human minds.
Heart pounds the mind's sounds in the color triage of thoughts
enslaved by mass media hounds of our time.
Heart pounds, pounds, and pounds in search for it's sound.
The sound submerged in pollutants of our time.
Heart pounds it's beat in synchronous with the moments,
so it seems.
the mysterious moments of life, love, and it's feat
comes with it's sweets and deceits.
Heart pounds to hear it's sound.
Oh, how I wish the heart to sing, dance, and
keep away from the prance of the controlling and fooling political beasts,
yet I find the freedom slipping away to slime political rhymes to render
security, minimum wage, and a dime.
It is our time when wars had taken a mass murderous incline.
Atom bombs compete with more treacherous killing machines, the human minds.
Heart pounds the mind's sounds in the color triage of thoughts
enslaved by mass media hounds of our time.
Heart pounds, pounds, and pounds in search for it's sound.
A Sleepness Night
In the darkness of planetary sight, it is a sleepless night
bringing memories the ones have come and gone by.
The silence is out there in the thickness of forest.
Mind is not silent.
It is a sleepless night.
There is no flight.
There is no plight.
There is no blinding sight.
Nevertheless, it is a sleepless night.
The blinks of eyes,
the heart's beat, and
the thoughts pleats
are keeping pace with heart's beat,
making the night,
a sleepless night synchronous with delights of passing time.
bringing memories the ones have come and gone by.
The silence is out there in the thickness of forest.
Mind is not silent.
It is a sleepless night.
There is no flight.
There is no plight.
There is no blinding sight.
Nevertheless, it is a sleepless night.
The blinks of eyes,
the heart's beat, and
the thoughts pleats
are keeping pace with heart's beat,
making the night,
a sleepless night synchronous with delights of passing time.
Monday, June 18, 2012
THE TIME
Our time is no different than any other times.
A time is the time of all time, nothing but time.
Time has no color, sect, or shrine.
Humanity is born in time, lives in time, and
passes by in time.
Time lives in all time.
Humanity is circling a constant conflicting beating time.
Conflicts of minds, and the conflicts of souls
reflect humanity's uproars, and
the the political whitewash galores.
Middle east burns and turns.
Drones fly and churn.
Europe forgets the economic dark deeds, and
scales and sells the austerity beat.
Rodney King is dead.
The history of brutality simmers, and lives.
It's time, a time, nothing but time.
Conflicts of minds, and the conflicts of souls
live in a time warped rhymes, the time sublime.
A time is the time of all time, nothing but time.
Time has no color, sect, or shrine.
Humanity is born in time, lives in time, and
passes by in time.
Time lives in all time.
Humanity is circling a constant conflicting beating time.
Conflicts of minds, and the conflicts of souls
reflect humanity's uproars, and
the the political whitewash galores.
Middle east burns and turns.
Drones fly and churn.
Europe forgets the economic dark deeds, and
scales and sells the austerity beat.
Rodney King is dead.
The history of brutality simmers, and lives.
It's time, a time, nothing but time.
Conflicts of minds, and the conflicts of souls
live in a time warped rhymes, the time sublime.
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