The Universal Migrator

Been a long time since anything was on this page. Here goes a little something … for if anyone happens to stop by for some unknown reason.
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Behold!
These broad doors
Always shut, it seems
The storm of God-man rises
Ever raging beyond
Sparked from ego’s greed
Eternal pressure pounds
Tendrils of the soul all tingling

Enter my thralldom! proclaims the blacksmith

Blacksmith!

In what chamber was forged this tempest?
Set to ruin these walls constructed in prostration

Wanderer!

My molten iron rages through your veins
Your kind are wont to feel its scalding

This oaken heart
Behold!
As it splinters and screams
Yearning to join without
Pulsing from within
The sinuous serpent’s fold
Forcing all that lies within
Our own creation set adrift

Enter my thralldom! proclaims the earth shaker

Poseidon!

Guide not my vessel to the belly of the whale
Mind’s eye reveals a voyage into the abyss of desire

Wanderer!

In mindless hunger fire overflows the heart
Release your hold, balance wills its nature to transform

Rays of golden light, pure
Bursting forth throughout reality
Wrath of ignorance, incoherent
Smoldering in the warmth of creation

Realize its brilliance as grey reveals as light
Unfolding eternally outward, all-encompassing
The greatness of truth knows each one as all
And in knowing will be found that all is but illusion

Filed by Chris 大斌 at 2:39 am under Adventures In Poetry
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In this heart will you dwell
Forever as one—strength and fallibility
In the overflowing pool of emotions
Forever circulating—love and memory

Toward the eternal dark of night I look
Its void—the celestial majesty—seen
Into the depths of starlit oneness I venture
Your gaze-—warm yet piercing—draws me

Betrayed by its logical nature
My mind struggles to contain your mystery
Heart’s wisdom overcomes the struggle …
Humble purveyor of love and serenity

The taste of your name on my lips
Brings a sweetened quickening of breath
Your pale moon face forever in mind
Memory calls forth every groove and plane

Many fair faces have these eyes seen
Always come and go … have come and gone
Though in this night sky yours will ever be
As the full moon pales the stars with its sheen

Filed by Chris 大斌 at 11:59 am under Adventures In Poetry
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Although this is not my poem, I wanted to share this with the few people who actually read this little blog of mine. I hope you enjoy it as much as I did . . .

In the Quiet Land, no one can tell if there’s
someone who’s listening for secrets they can sell.

The informers are paid in the blood of the land and
no one dares speak what the tyrants won’t stand.

In the quiet land of Burma,
no one laughs and no one thinks out loud.

In the quiet land of Burma,
you can hear it in the silence of the crowd.

In the Quiet Land, no one can say when
the soldiers are coming to carry them away.

The Chinese want a road; the French want the oil;
the Thais take the timber; and SLORC takes the spoils . . .

In the Quiet Land . . . In the Quiet Land, no one can hear
what is silenced by murder and covered up with fear.

But, despite what is forced, freedom’s a sound
that liars can’t fake and no shouting can drown.

Filed by Chris 大斌 at 9:57 am under Adventures In Poetry, General, Reflections
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This fleeting world of dew seems now to linger,
how rests the dew upon fragile blades of grass?

Often has the wind changed since love’s passing,
yet still my sleeves are wet with thoughts of music?

Made with the humming of passion and release,
such beauty between giving flesh has never been.

Even now love’s memory scatters to the wind,
each passing somehow more beautiful than the last.

When in haste this world of dew is left upon the grass,
will we meet again upon the petals of the lotus?

*Note: this is a slight variation on the version of this poem shown in the February, 2006 issue of the eZine, Scrawled.

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Filed by Chris 大斌 at 10:02 pm under Adventures In Poetry, Reflections
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Out of the charred remnants of our sins
was risen a man who was destined to be
the initiator of a metamorphosis in reality

A vessel of the gods to bear the beginnings
of humankind’s altered destiny
Humbler of tainted souls—betrayers
of hope in vestigial tranquility

We’ve searched our hearts
and minds for enlightenment
Sought the answers through
individualism and conformity

Hoping through our pain
we will achieve salvation—
the culmination of volitions
made each and every day

Is wisdom the result of an empty void . . .
Or the knowledge of differential
perspectives of a common reality?

Will we find truth in self-meditation? . . .
Will it be found in the embrace of another,
Through outward exploration?

Filed by Chris 大斌 at 11:12 am under Adventures In Poetry
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