Is It Your Own?

When you start to feel it

Taken over by those beyond

Who say it’ll all be fine

And before you know it

You’ll be back home

Familiar, yet dissimilar

Lost track of what’s known

Signs point away

They’re all here to stay

Without reason to go

Magnum Opus

A themeless tale to speak of truth
On graceless, hallowed ground
Sauntered still, the ambled will
The past tensed future’s found
Drifting through the mirrored halls
I find myself still here
Harkened dreams or so it seems
The watchmen’s eye to leer

Mirages of a long-lost sea shows solace in the sun
Perpetrated by the sovereign state
So seamless it begun
Will they come?
There is but One
He stands amongst the trees
Natures child, hides its smile
Shown falsely, so too we

Fortune strides, the godless fly
To seek such tales beyond
Throw the flames your kindred soul
Baptised by sacred bond
By virtue of the mythic dove
That glides wingless across the plain
Gravitating to the source of all
The beginning of our shame

To summarise and prophesize
I leave you with such truths
That I and you and we and me
Can ponder on our youths
Though we speak with portend rhymes
Pay heed not to our speech
As if you know, “what’s there to know?”
Such treasonous beliefs.

Human Beings Considered Collectively (short draft – intro)

I seldom had these paradoxical thoughts come to me, though when they did it was usually manifested by my own hypochondriacal way of seeing the world.
This day started much like any other, the same grinding migraine burning through my membrane.
To paint you a picture of what they felt like, can you imagine for a moment, a wax candle and how after a certain period of time the flame has heated the base to a high enough degree that it’ll cause the candle to break apart from its core?
Admittedly, this analogy is nonsensical as I’m comparing my cerebral cortex to an inanimate object, but descriptive writing has never been a strong point of mine and the Sun has only given birth to the day for approximately 27 minutes now, and I’ve seemed to of wasted this time by providing you with an inapt, unnecessary description of how my mind operates at this early hour of the morning.

Anyway, I feel like I have to clarify my earlier musing, I find the concept of paradoxes fascinating, with it being purely a logical exploration of what we as human beings know to be true.
How a seemingly absurd or contradictory statement can be found to be correct when delving deeper into the bottomless caverns of exploratory findings, we call this neuroscience.

Neuroscience, the research of the human brain. How paradoxical it seems that it is in fact the mind researching itself.

This isn’t usually the thought process one would have at 5am, but so it seems, I have been gifted with a mind that is often at its most intuitive in the transition phase between semi-consciousness and enlightenment.

Agra Tales

Majestic as it stood. showcased by the ever-rising sun
Without registering the much desired emotional response, I approached with wide eyes
The kind of smoke-stained eyes you’d see at 6am in the Indian summer
Captured imagery and imagination could not encompass what laid before me
And yet I was left wanting more
As if the thirst of my childlike idealisation had not been quenched
Perhaps my self-composed recluse
Personified by tales of a fallen fabled foe
Where reasons for my anticlimactic rise
Are left to let the alter-ego glow

Surrounded by the symmetry of the shadowed wondrous behold
Where the voices in your head speak in riddle
As the lawless rules of time runs linear as if by will
Before their eyes they’ll see the fallen
The inter-dimensional sphere of solitude.

Lotus Collaboration (Part III)

The idea began to grow
As if divine intervention willed it so
Articulate, immaculate
Such shadows show sand and snow
Lastly comes the twilight hope
Designed to never know.

This One’s For You

I think its a very rare thing to find someone who’s mind/body/soul can be compatible with your own.
Someone who can really make you contemplate over what is truly important in life.
Someone who can help you grow and evolve into a higher state of cognitive reasoning about our place within this world, and also to mirror this feeling back.
And yet here we are, through destiny or free-will, we now share this space in time. In this single moment of our lives, we are focused on one-another, myself the writer, and you the reader.

Knowing full well that life is always moving ever closer to the end, with this awareness in mind we begin to understand how precious life really is and how each second is one second that you’ll never get back, and choosing to spend your time within this mindset that promotes awareness, kindness, compassion, etc etc is the only way to live a life and a lifestyle as we believe to be purest.

The people I choose to submerse myself in are people who get the mind racing to better myself intellectually and cognitively, people who are my gurus in the sense that they pass on their life experiences onto me, piece by piece, brick by brick, in order for me to build myself a better understanding of who I am as a person and what my place is on this earth.
In popular culture, the word ‘guru’ represents these figures you see in the Indian mountainside that wear white robes and beads round their neck, but these shouldn’t be seen as the metaphysical standard for what is ‘a guru’.

A guru is a teacher of wisdom, of life itself and of living ones life to its fullest.
And for that everyone who I hold close to my heart is my guru.
Everyone that has passed on a certain level of understanding in order for me to better myself as a human being is my guru.

I don’t know where I am in this piece of writing, the mind rambles, and I know you’ll read and think and understand. It doesn’t need to have a format of introduction/point being made/ending as the paradigm of what a piece of writing should be set as.
I pour out of the wellspring that is my mind with the knowledge that you’ll read and listen.
And that’s all the understanding I need to type these words you’ve already read and continue to read.

– Written from a work laptop( as I sit at my desk), primarily used for corporate business. A system created and popularised as we know it in the early 1930’s. A system of business and economic evolution, a constant battle within itself and without itself, constantly striving to be the supreme entity above all.

Instead, this work laptop is being used for the development of the human mind.

Outward Bound

There’s nothing for us here
Lest we stop and stare and wait once more
Beyond the horizon
There’s a place that you’ve dreamt of
There’s a face that you’ve searched for
What you’ll find is nothing but mystics
Intwined pieces that fit with precision
You’ll leave and then find a purpose
To feel and to be and to search and to live with a reason

Into The Wild

Serpentine patterns, so serene, so sure

Walking between the minuscule pathway that separated the road
from the wiring, I found myself looking out beyond the horizon. My gaze took to
the crescent-shaped glow that the distant sun moulded between the hazed sky and
the mountaintops.
It was times like these where I found myself at my most intuitive.

Call it wishful thinking or misplaced hope, it was only when I was here, lost in
the meditative-like trance that I thought of home.

Vacant eyes repelling those approaching.

Not in a reminiscing kind of way mind you. More of a kind
reminder that with each step I was drifting away from the destiny that I had so
often rejected, that my faith in fate itself was forevermore denounced.

I didn’t need the other side of a confession box to pass on
this wisdom, nor did I wish it seek me out. But I knew it was looking for me,
just like I was once looking for it.
‘It’ being the higher power that we force ourselves to devote
our lives and our livelihoods to, basking in the glow of its cosmic rays, a
futile lifestyle in which my reward comes with deaths bittersweet release.

Seizing The Day

Read these words, they’re all I have
Through the clouded haze of summers glow
There is no place I’m going
To see out this winter, no

Face the storm with plan in mind
And calculate your measure
Only for others to point and laugh
As they televise sorrow at our leisure

Drift away to think of better times
The day where the autumn leaves doth fall
Hear whispers through the trees
Turn and face the Shepherd’s call

Climb upon the hilltop peak
And foresee your bitter truth
Destiny proceeds itself
As you squander upon your youth

All that is left to see
Is yet to be revealed
The mirror image steps forward
To appear before you, kneeled.