Poems about Knowledge
Consciousness
My mind was awash with opportunity;
brought forth by sentimentality;
awareness, driven to the brink of lunacy;
confronting the puzzle of reality.
Consciousness created all that is seen;
and all of the unseen, as well.
Consciousness is the ultimate dream;
everything, outside it, is hell .
Consciousness possesses unlimited power;
…Energy Walking
I wish to pay tribute to the creation of life;
but I’m too limited to understand how;
energies converted, by the centrifuge of light;
to my Lord and Master, I bow.
Consciousness; an accumulation of diverse energy;
driven by the inexplicable power of thought;
only the I
In The Fullness Of Time
Time is a most mysterious element;
directing the unfolding of reality;
only in a physical world is it relevant;
dreams are a subtle form of neutrality.
A song speaks of capturing time in a bottle;
as tho its in need of confinement;
our main goal
Clutter
My thoughts and life seem in disarray;
disorganization has become a brother;
my very world on the brink of decay;
I am living and swimming in clutter.
I have great respect for those, organized;
for they always seem to get things done;
but, I’m organization, compromised;
and, clutter
World Of Dreams
Regarding those things that we hold dear;
life doesn’t match up with dreams;
just take a good look in life’s mirror;
for, nothing is, at all, like it seems.
Dreams are travels, without preparation;
where we don’t even go anyplace;
they’re not like
The New Leaf
I’m the new growth in the Master’s creation;
lost in the midst of his infinite reality;
not likely to cause a big splash, or sensation;
tho giving evidence of creation’s duality.
By myself, I’m an example of insignificance;
a solitary leaf, falling on
A Walk With The Master
My mind is taking it’s daily stroll;
wandering thru a forest of thought;
the mind, is the voice of the soul,
and, it spoke of heresies brought.
Reality is full of truths, to uncover;
but the river of time flows thin;
so much the
The Flood Of Feelings
Why do deep feelings flow out of control;
are we unable to stem their flow?
Can we not be master of our own soul?
Please tell me why it’s not so.
How is it that feelings even begin;
where is it they get their start?
