horselessjockey

[horselessjockey]

Suppositional

It seems I cannot beckon God;  I must remain bewildered

Starry eyed and dreaming breathing in the mist with a heavy brain and all contained within me

Exasperated sighs, relief such constant bemusement coloring my senses tantalizing me with curiosity

I am caught up in the searching unearthing precious gems

Seeing the light through prisms catching glimpses of the truer forms whereby reality should turn itself over lending itself to nought by superimposed, extant, extradimensional realities

The shifting, everchanging constant the fractalline reversal  of the overlay we deem as our precision yet own as our perception

There is no finding God It will not come to me For, without what is not within was what had been there is no removal such, as there is no retrieval

Which way is up in empty space

[horselessjockey]

06.6 : Theophobia

I saw a cross of Peter online today, and I’m insane so I flipped my phone upside down; 
but, I’m also very defiantly sane, so I decided to fix that problem



I find myself struggling to accept that the cross is upside down
 and in this act, seeking God is an illusion; a fugue state 
through which I cast aside my humanity in an act of cowardice 
choosing comfort over cold, hard earth

 But dust to dust means 
I am suffering 
It means I am alive 
and I am dying 

And the cross is sometimes flipped
 and that doesn’t mean I’m purely made of sin 
It means I’m humbled by my insignificance
 choosing to live again, really live 
in a way that saves me
 not by the grace of an impossible deity
 but through acceptance of a faulty me

 They say we’re devil and god
 above and below
 good and evil in a game of tug of war 
two wolves fighting over a morsel of self 
a shred of consciousness when we devour our lucidity
 to coddle and shelter the fragility of truth between veils of illusion
 What about being human?

 “It’s not the end of the world” 
but every day there’s something new
 sometimes the devil is you 
but our demons are shadows on a wall in a room
 and I can’t sleep, but I’m not seeing the truth
 and an artificial light is a lie
 when I can see clearly in the dark if I acclimate to the nigh t

I’ll be safe, the devil isn’t there, 
the shadows are just light in silhouetted shapes
 and only occupy the space between it, 
where my mind plays tricks, 
and my eyes are too busy 
 counting my miseries to count sheep 

I used to be scared of the dark, 
and of death, and of demons, and sleeping, 
and being left behind, and my own mind tormenting me

 Now I’m just afraid 
of being comfortable and clueless 
Delusional and useless

 Some twisted individuals 
think it’s edgy to flip a cross upside down 
That used to trigger me, 
it used to be insidious

 Today I accept it
 They’re symbols, no more or less 
But they speak to my humanity 
 and what’s illusory about it 

Because some things are divine 
 and some things lack that
 but we’re all human, 
 everything else is an act 
 and that’s a fact

[horselessjockey]

there is so much love, lost in life

grasping at the past, heavy of heart

and shocked; paralyzed

wishing for wings,

to fly in my dreams,

find that castle in the sky


travel through the vortices

of interconnected minds

there, you, I’d find,

my world divine

my love, accosted

ever lost
 my muse

who’s left behind


and

forever shifting is the heart

ever yet never drawn apart

so bound are we

o, me to thee

such (pressed in pressure)

encounters brief



like lightning in my mind’s eye

to see the air electrified

whenever your eyes meet mine

hovering; swimming in ethereal fluid

surging with infinity’s energies



yet

arching in my back

a miasma of light

erupting from the heart

out of the eyes 
stranded, abandoned

drifting in the void

crippled

by the weight of indiscretion

longing

for such loves forever lost

such levity intrinsically bestowed upon me
 whence coalescence splits bereft

by weight of evanescent fate

and there is nothing left

not love nor hate

am I too late?

am I too late?

#spilledink #spilled ink #writers on tumblr #writing #creative #original poem #creativewriting #poem #poets on tumblr #poetry

[horselessjockey]

Emotional Contingency

A complex; standalone A shade of monochrome -in the visceral war zone A shield becomes a home I sit in contemplation Compelled by isolation Abandoned indignation A train stuck at the station A fog of midnight blue A baseless, abyssmal hue No heed for what to do A distance from the crowd Held in cerebral shroud No feelings were aloud The knight was just too proud A mission to remember The pains of last November Was not one with the gender You cannot be too tender Insipid disconnection Can find no resurrection The self forgets retention Plunged from its own discretion In the end, I am not sane There is no purpose Life is in vain All things are worthless No care to feign I lose inertia I end the game 

[horselessjockey]

moonlit obelisk

I have squandered my soul again

I yearned for a tourniquet;

clutched my aching limbs 
as I bled out onto the floor,

onto myself

I’ve stolen fleeting things,

beget to me, lost to time

I have been conditioned to rot;

to survey eternity 
from behind the gate of the mind

I keep tricking myself

Surreptitious riddles, ghost of night

Resuscitating nothingness

regurgitating, heaving death

I keep deepening my desire to die

But I don't want to dissolve,

I want metamorphosis;

reintegration with the tapestry;

to begin dreaming, as an artist,

and paint my blood onto the canvas 
of the universe

My spirit leaves me

in unsanctimonious wanderings;

each time I flitter between

love and loss and longing

I would only ask:

let me cling to nothing,

understand without being crushed;

allow me relinquishment

Forgive me


[horselessjockey]

even with clammy hands

and cold feet

and fear that trickles in

from yesterdays rain

i am loved i am loved i am loved

always warm hearted

I am fire, ash, and phoenix

I am ever-burning star

I am infinitesimal;

I am astronomical

scatter me over the boundless and vast

for, even if i should reach

the farthest corners of this universe,

i will always be whole

#writers on tumblr #writing #spilledink #original poem #creativewriting #creative #spilled ink #poets on tumblr #poem #poetry

[horselessjockey]

To see what you are you must do the work of shedding what you are not. You have buried it, don’t you see? You have buried it, but it cannot die.

[horselessjockey]

No title (maybe a pebble in my skull, bouncing around)

I am rattling, as is my proclivity muscles tense and then collapse

limb by limb, releasing a skeletal clatter

would i hover if the gravity, of dizzying,

that makes my head swim, lightly, 

floating in the ocean of stuporous emotion

thunderstruck connectivity, latched onto me

crown o’ my skull, pull my spirit from its vessel

would eye

blink shut

a rut in the road

a node

bowing, wherethrough flowing in the breeze; 

it bends - again - against the everything so rushing

by and i

consider it a blessing to believe in nothing

knowing only what approaches me

and seeing things so clearly

how spirit lives in me

have you ever felt the chills?

ASMR, perhaps, electric, rising

running fingertips over goosebumps

have you felt the way Earth communicates with plants?

can you bleed into the natural expanse?

you’ve been dead before, do you remember?

#writing #spilledink #spilled ink #original poem #creativewriting #creative #writers on tumblr #poets on tumblr #poem #poetry

[horselessjockey]

My Love is Beautiful

My love is the one 
that saturates awestruck passion
 making the heart swell
 with transformative gasps of divinity



My love is the weight of water
 suspended in the air
 It is windswept, soft caressing;
 Spirit’s soothing whisper in mine ear



My love entombs itself in deep mind 
Loses itself to the pool of rhythmic vibration 
interspersing, simulated, soulful synchronization



My love is life finding Life finding soul
 The sweetness of consciousness becoming conscious
 of itself in everything else, of liquid light brimming through, 
to coalesce, and impress softness into



My love is poetry wherein
 we beautiful beings becoming
 had to invent the very word 



To encapsulate the indescribable
 that exists in that feeling 
 of transcending survival



To find the divine in the usual

[horselessjockey]

My Shadows

Oh shifting sun, in silence does the resonance of moonlight still reflect the light of day, the truth that you beget? These hidden things, inside sepulchral night administered by lunar light within our minds and hearts excite yet still prolong regret When we are surely stolen there within the glow of darkness’ heir does truth, aloof, in depth repair or is there hindrance yet? I coast alone through lands of dreams to lay away without esteem and bask through melting, as it seems my self should thus reset Could in the morning light, again, thy transcendence defy chagrin? Should I be not what is akin if therein lies my debt?

#writing #writers on tumblr #spilled ink #spilledink #original poem #creative #creativewriting #poem #poetry #poets on tumblr

[horselessjockey]

Hypnic Jerk

Spiraling a vacuum in my sternum drinking in the void gasping for air in the emptiness

I reminisce of distances 

leapt

in instances kept in memories forever, lingering

How heavy can emptiness be? Who am I who sees not me? Who are they who could not stay and did they ever know my disarray?

I am an erratic notion of emotion in motionless vastness

I am spastic jerking and tumultuous in the openness  of this cosmic loneliness

the endless hindrance of the intimate i n f i n i t e

#poetry #poem #creativewriting #writing #writers on tumblr #spilledink #spilled ink #original poem #creative #poets on tumblr

[horselessjockey]

DMT

Unleashing arrows of light which scorch the sky encroaching on the domain of ancient anchors

Boring through deep, unspeaking shrouds as the orbs of everlasting force should only sing through resonances abounding when tangible things dissolve in their fall from grace alongside the eyes of earth

As if by rods of Zeus, I am struck with white noise meteoric light ruptures the heavens rejecting the frailty of corporeal existence, as the mind’s eye is forced open my ears explode with ringing the song of heaven vibrating my teeth

“Pay attention! Wake up! It’s not too late!” The voice of ages calls through all eternity to excite the soul which rests in the groove of the heart

Spirits sing always they are singing their voices synchronize in chain reactions causing reality to unfurl

Each star, a node the strings of heaven shake in holy harmony spectrum-slipping into ripples inconceivably infinite iterations of existence unveiling vortexes of vectors Tangents, tangling Totality in tantric tandem until ubiquitous uniformity upheaves the insidious illusions of individuality

So melt, dissolve, unwind, and un-become again with the slipping, weaving, winding blinding light of time unbinding from the mind, til we exist in emptiness and find that all along, we’ve intertwined ourselves with what is else, a wealth of living in delivering the realm of dreams and streams of being gleaming in the crux of everything and nothing there is opening  the apertures, the rapt and ruptured slipping rippling dripping starlight fissures

Where beings bleed through overstretched dimensions only held to wells of willowing intentions a blip, a blast of consciousness  morphs into the pupil of the master: World-Weaving-Thing that observes the observer observing eye am not eye am what I am eye am I? sublime sub-liminality entrenched in where, whence present becomes presence without essence; coalescence regresses into evanescence as returned is me to thee to We

Then -Not-

[horselessjockey]

This exists in the wind

Know other, and thus know thyself. Know what thou art not and thyself shall unfurl before thine eyes. Yet, know thine eyes as thyself, and know no self before another. One twine of thy spiral unwinding, whence thy center point diverges, vast, in multitudes amassed betwixt thee; the eye of the spiral of unwinding. Thy sleeping self, merely asleep to life within a dream; awake to All aplenty. Alas, in tangent vortices all aspects of thee exist in mirrored reiteration. Fractalescent bodies of one name. Above the vortices converging round the center: a greater maw. A many weaving being, seeing

everything expanding in concentricity round compounding sound, the endless symphony; ubiquitous infinite vibrations of eternity, in resonant helical geometry. But these are just the roots.. Somewhere, amidst the canopy, ever-thriving disseminating light, crystalline dimensions break the mind splitting time in two. And there are infinities in every inch… every inch of me and you. A billion years of histories; a billion people, a trillion different views. All, interconnected through the dissection of light projected dimensions of intention wrapped, and woven endlessly around a gaping space of emptiness chock-full of energetic collectives. Each an individual unto themselves. I think, maybe, that’s what angels are. Accumulations of many universes; pulsating orbs of holographic light, teeming and erupting with the knowledge of a love that cannot be contained by illusory space.

[horselessjockey]

Sacred Self (Voice Unknown)

The spirit, soul being, whole One seeing mind open to find the divine inside One, seeing mind to merge, emerge bestow and grow  Surrender to the everflow To sleep in deep, cut through me Ocean of patterns, possibilities Without a vessel, spirit consumes me

to sit in this unity Am I thinking, feeling, seeing Does reality flow through me in intimate silence, mind wide duality I am quiet, true unseen but i can’t hide these feelings Are thoughts my own, when all things spring from a source that’s forever branching onward into ignorance, whilst knowledge keeps advancing

So i’m dancing in the action of solitude and truth romancing a fool who takes a chance to be alone but Love is seeing me In endless conversation with vibration, i am free 

but i would shackle myself cuff my hand to yours to be known in this temporary moment without knowing what’s in store To be adored drip with me in poetry, and know the voice unknown amor

[horselessjockey]

A Tempered Temper

The present moment is my happy place And, when I step back and appreciate all my woes and worries are erased

I’ll simulate the energy of peace when anger and impatience ravage me and the world seems chockfull of instability; because, when I remember to breathe, I don’t surrender my power to a feeling

Sometimes I find I’m faced with a choice Life can leave me feeling as if I’m without a voice All things appear so dull and strange My heart, aching for a change

And I can choose to lose it; let my rage consume and guide me My power, when I abuse it, unleashes pain I hide inside me

Seeking to subdue, control, or placate is a futile effort We must waste our energy  to weaken what we wish to subordinate Strength only doubles when we work together

Such is the same with one’s self Fighting inner pain just drains  and serves to lessen health Nothing else remains and one retires again to rest

I’ll step back, and take a breath, and remember what it’s like to be at peace; let my soft awareness spread from in the deep of me, and assess with love, encouragement and patience any problem that keeps me from seeing beauty

Because love lives in the aching heart -in the wandering mind Love, is what we know, what we might find It is why we yearn and ache It is why we persist, in spite, or for the sake of it

So, when I find that irate individual; my mind and the world in turmoil; when I can’t catch a break, I can’t focus, can’t think, I will remember love is the nourishing thing at the crux of being

It is the keystone  to the door to new pathways of consciousness and coalescence of presence and connection of Love itself

[horselessjockey]

Tender ache of beauty reaching in the heart that feels itself when melting To be one with oblivion but knowing I am cascading wonder cast asunder; a cavity left to fill,  inundate me, now Stuporous; wine drunk, on the awe of creation I am breaking, macerating this weary vessel Grinding every last speck into pulp Heart broken: heart open And I love, not blind I simply cannot, for the life of me, pry my crying eyes from the sun Nothing left but warmth I merge to emerge amidst, but amix This yellow light shifts white Like every other star in a sky, bespeckled

#writing #writers on tumblr #spilledink #spilled ink #creativewriting #original poem #poem #creative #poetry #poets on tumblr

[horselessjockey]

Joyful Teardrops into Infinite Seas

I want to live in this state
 where every breath feels like vaporous gold
 my blood is ablaze with the violet flame
 and the gravity of cosmic, elestial ethereality
 suspends each simple speck of being,
 pulsating with transcendent, growing energy

 Aperture adjustment; 
 light parts the mist of the physical 
a bloom, returned
 consumed in energetic being 
seeing through illusion 

I want to transmute 
the frazzled, festering things 
that constitute the dissonant;
 returned to harmony
 with a decisive tap! 
like liquid crystals flipped 
to shine white light

 Melt the astral ice
 entice my mind and soul 
to cascade into the ocean; 
dissipate my shaking being;
 make me feel whole 

I am love. I am love. I am Love. 
I am nothing.