the seamless infinity ..

What if there exists a reality parallel to the prevailing existential continuum ..

Could you believe such a context, a notion that you would hardly rely on ..

the truth could be far from this notion’s ideology or might even utterly be a contextualy real idea that would make this matter of fact fall not close to lie at all ..

Though certain different minds may argue that the idea would lie neither close to lie nor too far from it, while trying to figure the elements to take in such a notion as really a fact and to prove its prevalence ..

Cosmonauts have assumed there really exists more than one galaxy and the galactic space seems to strech seamlessly like infinity ..

Some merely percieve it as a baseless mind space thing, and what if this mind space perception might prevail inside the heads of people existing parallely about our very realism .. quite intriguing aint it ..

So what if there exists a parallel realism so real and so true to our existential continuum ..

you never know, not with a solid idea on whether or not the parallel galaxy exists, yet such notions prevail among scientists and others dealing with space, cosmos and beyond ..










moon in a dew drop ..

Stnding in front of his antique mirror, he wonders in awe ..  he could see the brimming effulgence  in burning light of golden glow all around his reflection’s imagery .. oh dear, the mirror falters not .. oh dear, the mirror lies never .. it reflects neither parallel realism nor anything afar from the existential bounds ..

Such thriving glades and glaze one could rarely contemplate with .. such prolific circumferential halo burning with dense light of ethereal serenity .. like the calmness of still waters in the wee hour the continuum holds such lull and calm air of an instigated midnight muse .. kinda muse that would picture a beautiful moon in a leaf’s dew drop though for such great celestial body it is .. even for such a miniature the dew drop is ..



Stnding in front of his antique mirror, he wonders in awe .. alongside a brimming effulgence of the halohead’s irradiaance and burning denser light of a midnight flawless muse’s ethereal serenity ..

the speaking tree ..

Lately i ve been on a search,

seeking a vision of my dream

that would certainly impart a wisdom

so rare and so unique

unlike every other dream’s connotation

that would either be a nightmare

or a subconscious residual picture

that would coalesce the traces

in a re-gather and might bring out

the screening  of interwoven ideas

perhaps though it could fall illogical in an odd day,

yet it holds indeed a real connection

with reality’s path which tries to drag on

the subconscious traces

trying to capture your rare day’s expectations

or a downfall, perhaps could even

be a fervent yearn so closer or deeper inside.

the sight of the speaking tree,

they say is so rare and so unique

not often a person could end up with

such a tree’s spectacle and its radiating refulgence,

with such remarkable traits of wisdom,

knowledge, love and light ..  

the paths beside the tree

will lead one toward attaining

the foresaid  traits and even more

it exfoliates people with its prominent glow

and profound illuminance of  radiating love.

‘ o ye better men amongst people,

let thee know, what are you seeking is seeking you ..

come here and let you people dwell

inside the realms of higher contemplation

oh, so deep and serene someone could

perceive its contour and bounds,

oh, so indepth a yugen

as a wee hour moon

in a  dewdrop  of a leaf ..

so limpid a limn

you could hardly surmise ..

as a discrete droplet  of rain

in the vastness of an ocean ..

so limpid a yugen’s limn

you could hardly surmise ..

o ye better men amongst people,

let thee know, what are you seeking is seeking you ..

come here and dwell inside

the uno conscious for

what you seek shall seek you ..

for your uno prominence

in your higher awakening

that reflects your

inner awareness, enlightenment,

and your ultimate transcendence,

in reaching closer to the levitating nirvana ..

in the depth of an ocean’s muse .. ‘

the purple lilac and pink lavender ..

Its freezing cold out here in the terrace,

underneath this sanguine moonlight

that shimmers in the lake waters with quite an unusual lustre,

when the moonlight kisses the shimmering waters

in a rare sensual indulgence.

they play around in the outside silver light

beside the lakeshore, kissing and caressing,

running around the sizzling shore,

cuddling in the chill zephyr,

in hay and gay, in love and blithe,

inside this exquisite tryst of moon and merry,
alluring his lady moon in wooing ballads,
the glistening waters looking at its very half

converges the gleams of white ablaze through the sexual
flames of mangata indulgence,

reflects the enthralling
moonlight serenade

amidst this silver light of scintillating rendezvous.

the sizzling silverlight and glowing shimmers

burns bright and white .. inside this exquisite tryst of moon and merry .. the sizzling silverlight and glowing shimmers

burns bright and white .

they cuddle and caress in the rope hammock

between those palms ashore,

beneath the gleaming lake view

that seems to allure them and divulge even the

aphrodite arousal and her passionate songs of love lust and romance .. and even the lewdland lilac and lavender’s

potioned seductions of its petal’s patina .. the neon petal’s pigment rather its soft purple and pink

feathers of seducing floral flight would lift a persona

to the aphrodite’s aura and all her highness’

ardent passion and avid amour.

Never would you have seen such delicate flora

Of sensual mood’s lilac and lavender,

Never would you have seen such ethereal fragments

Of blazing lustre’s purple and pink.

It seemed truly magic underneath the moonlight,

as they revelled inside the potioned spell

Of lilac liquor and lavender milk That made them glow
like never before

That truly casted a
spell on them

underneath this moon’s lucency

That made them glow like never before

In the lambent midst of brimming

silverlight ambien’s beautiful white moon and

its scintillating moonlight kiss ..

the sizzling silverlight and glowing shimmers

burns bright and white ..

inside this exquisite tryst of moon and merry ..

the sizzling silverlight and glowing shimmers

burns bright and white ..

the seeker ..

how long do you think the way of a seeker is  ..

the journey might be too far say apart a seven hills,

seas and lands as you would read in mythical tales

rather it could even fall short of a couple of months time

say quite a distance in timeline ..

so deeper are his contemplations

with such  a solid notion inside

the concerned contextual dwelling 

to converge the elements rather the conceptions behind,

upon the innate slate of an individual

to perceive the reflections inside

in its relevant intensity rather the magnitude

of the light that you would throw

on the pertaining thread of an idea

while musing over a  context’s need or

the necessitated inside demand

surrounding the thread of a muse ..

the destination a seeker is afar from

that he is yearning to reach

the sort of innate desire that is binding

him toward the constant urge

 in looking out for his objective,

the urge that is gentle yet stern

in moving the seeker in his peregrination

in attaining his aim, the antidote, rather the panacea

for the lag owing to the distance of separation

that he has to traverse, that he has to go through,

overcome, rather he has to learn to raise himself

in gathering the relevant understanding or the exposures

that unravels him to the light,

perhaps rather the inner light,

the effulgence and beyond ..

what the seeker is seeking rather

his objective or the goal he has to attain,

the light and its radiance the seeker has to awaken himself with

entails persistence beneath the journey and the road

in converging the necessitated elements behind

the yearn that he has to satiate,

enduring the road, pain and the time

over the journey that might even be harsh

and obscure in its traverse,

at times might even be vague and dark

diverting you to a maze and oblivion,

despite the prevailing notion that

there is always this constant

proclivity inside this whole of nexus  

toward him for what he is seeking

though the mystery surrounding this

unknown nexus fibre that begets this subtle link

is still not known to many and

remains quite difficult to perceive and obscure.

how long do you think the way of a seeker is  ..

the journey might be too far say apart a seven hills,

seas and lands as you would read in mythical tales

rather it could even fall short of a couple of months time

say quite a distance in timeline ..

a half-soul lad ..

kobieca_sesja_buduarowa_monika_stachura_005

alone in his apartment,

that seems so wretched and devoid of light,

he is all down and wrecked lacking his soul’s half

feeling the eerie ambien’s black hues.

with the phantom ache inside and acerbic pain,

he is all arid and dark

deprived of sleep and stamina,

starving himself sans his soul’s aria,

sans his soul’s luminance,

and even perhaps its pulling him down

to a nadir of sour acrimony

sans his very soul as a whole.

 

amidst some surreal hallucinations,

that  seems to relay his half  soul’s

voices and visions exuding from his subconscious,

screening him his delusional aura,

rather a lucent panorama that has taken

its stance right from his mind’s array

of indelible instances and deeply residing

meme ordinates beneath his grey and white matter.

such illusory paranoia and obsession

seems to bifurcate him away from his actual continuum

and migrates him across time to the past,

framing his visions and illusions

of inerasable prominence and depth, 

like a consoling potion, a drug,

rather a ephemeral cure

or to the least a transient solace

for this half soul lad,

hovering him away onto a different peregrination

from the prevailing scene of sinister’s clutches

and its ugly tentacles.

alone in his apartment,

that seems so wretched and devoid of light,

he is all down and wrecked lacking his soul’s half

feeling the eerie ambien’s black hues.