Author: Pisceanesque

"It's not from within that I emerge; it's by emerging, that I am truly within." www.pisceanesque.com

THOUGHT #453

At each lowest point there exists an opposite perception.

THOUGHT #452

Distracted by moments that could be, one is enlightened by thoughts that are.

THOUGHT #451

With every pursuit towards immoral control, one’s purpose will decline into mere irrelevancy.

THOUGHT #450

One’s eyes see in every unwritten language that which every written one could never describe.

THOUGHT #449

There is no end to an imagination of creative possibility.

THOUGHT #448

The only safe hazard is the decision to leave one’s controller.

THOUGHT #447

Control over the human mind is a desperate attempt to smother evolution, with nothing but the fighting will to exist more.

THOUGHT #446

With the birth of hate, one adopts an ungoverned mind.

THOUGHT #445

Releasing control allows a natural order to surface: one which thrives on the spontaneity of change.

THOUGHT #444

An intelligent mind deflects from the madness within.

THOUGHT #442

One’s divinity is achieved at birth.

THOUGHT #441

Costly, are the dreams of ego; flaccid in their potency.

THOUGHT #438

Today is a reality unplanned moment by moment, but perfected time and time again.

MUCH TO MY DESPAIR

this ice cream love
– sweet –
and filled with cold desire

drips

through the hole
in my sugared cone

the very thing that
once had held my love within
is now partaking
in the letting go
of its own contents

HONEYBEE AND FLOWER

Opening my soul,
the petals of its
soft, pink, silken flesh
become a mirror,
beckoning all and any
to the gateway of my swollen, naked heart.

And oh,
how does the honeybee suckle,
I remember,
approaching with a mask of raw intention,
innocent, but for the ravaging purpose
it knows only, yet again, to – here – ensue

. . . and so it does.

My blushing fortress sways and tempts:
a feathered
floral
nudity, as,
in you float,
oh honeybee,
in pregnant pause
to share my perfumed freedom
as I blossom
with your tongue inside my lap.

Crush me not, but leave me torn
– yet, just as gentle.

Your organic levitation swells my fancy.